On High Blood Pressure...

I like weeks that start out with a holiday. Especially when I didn’t realize there was a holiday almost until it actually occurred. That’s like waking up thinking it’s Monday when it’s actually Saturday. I’m not Buddhist, but I think that is pretty much Nirvana. This Monday we went apple picking. I’d never been apple picking. Frankly, I thought they just picked themselves and showed up at the grocery store. I’m not really an apple guy. Since I got older (and fatter) and acid reflux decided to be my personal nemesis, the acid in apples just does not do this body good. Still, it was a chance for K-Mad to experience the great outdoors near the Shenandoah Valley. She needs to get acquainted. Her middle name is Madison for crying out loud…you know, after her parents alma mater in said valley. She seemed to enjoy it. I picked apples with her in the “snuggly”, and she picked leaves.

Tuesday my wife had an early doctors appointment, so I got to hang with K-Mad while taking the morning off. My wife has developed high-blood pressure since she gave birth after years of having perfect blood pressure. The doctors wanted to rule out the possibility that something had happened to the artery that goes to her kidneys, so they ordered a sonogram (or ultrasound…I get them confused). She came out clean, which in essence just means that she has high blood pressure for some unknown reason. Imagine her relief…

I have a theory though. I think that it has to do with her being at home. I believe, through careful and reasoned analysis (it is, afterall, what I do), that this woman thrives in the stress of middle school education. It’s like her happy place or something. At the very least, I think she would tell you it is the place that she feels like she knows what she is doing, and that is reassurance that few of us have. I certainly don’t.

On the other hand, staying home with one child that you are truly responsible for is new territory. Not only has she given up doing what she knows how to do through schooling and other training. Now, she is taking care of a child that shares her DNA for the first time ever. It’s not like they teach this stuff in school. I take that back. In my high school there was always a week or two during the year where the student body somehow procreated 5 pound bags of sugar. Seriously…the girls taking home economics would “learn” what it was like to have a baby by caring for a bag of sugar for a week. A bag of sugar. That’s not a child, that’s my idea of lunch.

As my wife and I struggled with the decision of what she should do once K-Mad came, I started to be a little more sensitive to the arguments, struggles and cultural debates that women participate in about child rearing. I’ve already blogged about some of that. I found a pretty nice blog about the working women’s perspective on things motherhood at washingtonpost.com. I found it when I saw one of the headlines from a male guest writer that was talking about fatherhood. That’s a subject for another day though. The blog is called On Balance. One of the entries stuck out to me the other day. Here it is linked. Not sure if you have to sign into the website or not….

I found this entry not only interesting but true as well. I can’t say this is what my wife is thinking, but I find the concept of being 100% sure that you made the right decision, but still not feeling great about what yourself to be interesting. I can tell that my wife loves being home with K-Mad, but really misses the opportunities and camaraderie she had at work. I don’t envy being put in that position one bit. Actually, that's not true. I'd love to be put in the position because I know my opinions about work life are way different. But still, I wonder if that has to do with her high blood pressure. I know she is constantly worried about how she is raising K-Mad while being home. I hope she sees what I see on a daily basis. She is an awesome mom, and K-Mad just adores her. Seriously, adores her too much if you ask me.

It’s actually a bit ridiculous… Hello, Daddy is pretty cool too ya know!

On Foot In Mouth Disease...

This will be the first enstallment of what I hope is almost a weekly series here at the Halls of Mental Midgetry. I find that many of my phone conversations with my wife while I'm at work are marked by their hilarity. Today, I give you an example of one that was not marked by its hilarity, but by its totally idiocy on my part.

Beeley: "I'm no longer talking to Matt and Jill."
Better Half: "Why?" (said it a hushed tone like I'm about to spill some really good dirt)
Beeley: "They signed up for Blockbuster.com rather than Netflix and then had the gall to announce it on their blog like it was something to be proud of. Seriously, that's something you try and hide. Like having a third nipple or something..."
Better Half: (no longer impressed) "Whatever. Atleast they update their blog unlike someone I know."
Beeley: (sounding coy) "Oh reeeeeally. I guess you are right. I certainly haven't updated my blog lately."
Better Half: "Wait. You've updated? After I begged you all summer? How many posts do you have?"
Beeley: "Just two. But they are already roundly noted by the masses for their literary merit."
Better Half: "I can't believe you didn't tell me you started posting again. Did you post about how awesome your wife is?"
Beeley: "Huh....yes?"
Better Half: "You probably said something embarrassing didn't you? What did you say."
Beeley: "You'll just have to read it. It's that good. I just don't feel right about taking the privilege of reading it for the first time away from you."
Better Half: "I'm here feeding K-Mad. I just finished two hours of working online for school. Just tell me what you blogged about."
Beeley: "Whatever. Read it for yourself, you have more time than I do anyway."
(silence)
Angry Better Half: "What do you mean by that?"
Beeley: "Uh..."
Angry Better Half: "I'm hanging up now." (hangs up).
Beeley: "So, so smooth there Beeley."

Seriously, I know I like to call this place the Halls of Mental Midgetry... but do I have to go around proving its truth?

On Shameless Displays of Cuteness...

Those eyes are my kryptonite. If you have a way to deflect their powers, please forward it to my wife. I'm already too far gone...

On Dreams...

I’m a very vivid dreamer. It’s frankly a bit disturbing the lunacy that occurs in my head during my non-awake hours. Frankly, it’s disturbing what goes on my in my head during my waking hours too, but that is a blog for another time. I have all kinds of dreams too. Some are recurring, some are based on the movie I just watched, some involve me naked in high school, some involve me naked in college, some involve me naked…well, you get the idea. There is a lot of personal nudity in my dreams.

As disturbing as that can be, the non-naked dreams are quite interesting. The problem is that I’m not a great rememberer. I remember most of my dreams for about the time it takes me to shower in the morning (which is actually a fair bit of time, if you know me). I usually stumble into that sweet utopia of hot water with visions of my latest, and epic, insanity. What I do tend to remember is the general theme, especially if I’ve had something similar to it before. Seriously, I am one of those guys with the recurring dream of forgetting to study for a huge exam in college. I actually really like those dreams mostly for the euphoria I feel when I wake up and realize that I’m almost 10 years beyond my last incident of schooling. I think that dream is based on a real occurrence though, and not on any latent desire I have to be a good student. I did once go into a college class (that I had skipped that previous two class sessions) and have the teacher ask me if I was ready for that days test. A test that I had no knowledge of...nor had read the material for...Needless to say, it did not go well…

…but I digress…

I have always had somewhat of a measure of control in my dreams too. I guess that is why I don’t often have nightmares. Usually, I can see just where my dream is taking me and either wake myself up, or change the dream for within. I know, for example, that that door in front of me is going to have some manner of horror behind it… be it a demon, or a guy in a hockey mask (probably a Devil’s hockey mask) or a Republican who wants to have email sex with me. So I do what no one ever seems to be able to do in a horror movie…I just ignore the door. Seriously, why is that so hard?

However, natural disaster nightmares I cannot control. The two recurring dreams that I have involve tornados and tsunamies. I am personally convinced that I will die in a tornado some day. My wife as barred us from ever living in a true tornado state (Virginia has had them from time to time, but not consistently). Usually my tornado dream involves multiple manifestation of those tubes of death, and my overwhelming need to be travelling out in them at the same time. My tsumani dreams are not the kind that actually happened a couple of years ago. Mine are the massive, wave a mile high sort. Or, they involve me being at our famly beach house and 30 foot wave after 30 foot wave forming while I'm on the beach. Freaky stuff really.

On the other hand, there is my wife. She is also a vivid dreamer…and worse, a rememberer. That’s a terrible combination. It leads her to not only remember her dream, but to want to discuss it. And by discuss, I do actually mean analyze. And by analyze, I mean with me. I admit some amusement remembering and thinking about my own dreams…when I can, but to have to sit and analyze my wife’s dreams. Kill. Me. Now.

Here is a quick analysis of my wife’s dreams though. Apparently her imagination is not as active as mine, and her dreams…well…they are limited in scope and they basically suck. I have done something bad. I have left her, cheated on her (sometimes even with a family member), killed someone in her family, killed myself, killed her or shot our dog. That’s the Beeley themed dreams. The other ones are that someone in her family died, was maimed or left. I can’t described to you the number of times I’ve gotten an evil look from her upon her waking up. Or, sometimes in the middle of the night she’ll role over and hug on me…hard…like can’t breath hard. And it’s because she’s happy to see that I am alive, or haven’t left her.

Occasionally she’ll have a good dream. Usually a sex dream. I like those. I think she needs more of those. I think we need to spend a significant amount of time analyzing those instead. Maybe even recreating them.

…but I digress…