Randy and Shari's World

You know how sometimes you read little tips on how to beef up security around your home?  Like not putting the giant box that held your Plasma TV out on the curb for all to see?  (I don't think we thought much about that when we disposed of our TV's packaging; it was about the size of a standard toaster box and would probably not arouse too much envy or curiosity from the neighbors).

Anyway, I'm kind of scared to write this post because I don't want anyone to try to steal my husband.  See, I'm gonna say some really nice things about him, but before I do, let me come up with this profile of our home security that may or may not be true: *1* Randy and I both have Black Belts in Karate  *2* We have a Black Cat who inflicts worse injuries than Karate *3* Micah can probaby dial 911 and tell them in great detail what's happening (and probably what he had for breakfast too, in case they were interested) *4* We live 2 doors down from a cop – who happens to be such a nice guy that he'd probably much rather listen to what Micah had for breakfast than beat up any evil husband-snatchers - (though I guess, for security reasons, I should have left that last part out).

Randy is VERY good at planning surprises for me.  Frighteningly good.  Embarassingly good.  He pretty much always has something up his sleeve, and believe me, his sleeves are very baggy indeed.

My birthday is today, and therefore, had been approaching for quite some time now.  I always get a bit suspect of what he's up to as my birthday or our anniversary (or even some random holiday like Second Cousin's Once Removed Day for that matter) draws near, and this time he enjoyed heightening my suspense by regularly telling me (somewhat smugly at times) for the past month or so, that I cannot be in certain areas of my house, or know certain places he is going, or how he is spending his time, or what he is doing with the children, etc.  He thinks it's great fun to watch me writhe in curiosity and try to beg for small details from him.  I don't really want to know the surprise itself, because that would ruin the fun, but I do want (or think I do anyway) little hints.  So I'll say, "Well, when will I know what you've been up to?"  To which he'll say something like, "Sometime."   

So after a lot (and I mean lots of hours of furtiveness) I thought I had finally figured some stuff out.  I thought I had caught him in something (and I kind of did, but because of how he handled it, I think all it did was serve to make me even more confused).  From my perspective, here's what happened:

Last Friday I got a call from a friend from church (Oh no!  Can I use their real names?  What if I do and they don't want me to?  Or what if I don't and they DO want me to?  Or what if this really isn't a big deal and they don't care one way or the other?)  I guess I can use fake names, like they do in magazines.  Yeah, that's what I'll do; then I'll feel all sneaky and yet somehow all grown up and responsible.  OK, so I get a call from Zessica.  She says that she and her husband, Zari, want to have us over for dinner.  She first suggests Tuesday, but because Randy had a meeting with Pastor Zen that night, we settle for Wednesday instead.  Cool.  I'm pumped.  I am looking forward to hanging out with them and their son Zayton.  So I tell Randy about this when he comes home that evening.  His reaction was just a little too something or other and I got a teensy bit suspicious (for the first time – I seriously thought she just wanted to invite us over for dinner!) but I figured I was just paranoid and didn't say anything.  Until later when I saw their names on our computer screen.  Then I asked him about it, and in a fashion that only Randy can master, within about 5 minutes he had me so confused that I wanted to scream.  (He did this all in a state of almost coma-like calmness of course, while I'm working up a sweat by hand-motioning and pretend-yelling all over the place).  He leads me to believe that he called up our friend and told her to call me and invite us over for dinner!!  Rude is not normally a word I would associate with Randy, but that's all my mind could think of.  "You called her and told her to invite us over?"  Was I hearing this???  We haven't even known them for very long, and I was really kind of hoping we could like, you know, be friends and stuff!!  So I try to educate/remind my rocket scientist, "the proper etiquette is to call someone and invite them to come to our house!!"  He acts mildly taken-aback and responds with, "Well, she's not mad or anything.  She said she is happy to do it."  GOOD GRIEF!  "Like she would tell you if she was mad at you!  Did you expect her to say, 'No, I won't do it!' ??"

So I was still looking forward to going over for dinner, but now I was stuck with the dilemma of whether to act like I knew how rude my husband was in order to get us there, or just play dumb.  Well, one of the problems with me (and why I always have so much fodder for blogging) is that I do not know HOW to just play dumb.  As we say about my sister's husband, my filter that controls what I say to other people doesn't work right, and many times, falls off entirely.  I become compelled to speak; am completely unable to remain silent.  Thus it came about that not only did I say something about the supposed social blunder my well-intentioned husband made to Zessica practically the second we arrived at her house, but I had also told another mutual friend Zebecca, and even my sister about it earlier.

So Wednesday comes and I am really looking forward to hanging out with these friends (whose kindness and tolerance I was truly admiring).  Randy gets home from work and I persuaded him to leave a bit early and chauffer me to some errands I had wanted to do all week, but with Serena having a cold and my wrist hurting, etc, it didn't happen.  So he dropped me off at Target where I ran in and bought a water bottle to replace the one I somehow lost at the county fair (sob, sob).  Then we all went into Babies 'R Expensive to get some diapers and a shower gift.  I'm checking my watch the whole time, knowing that we need to be at their house at 6:30.  I would occasionally be helpful and remind him that, "We really need to hurry now" so we can "get there on time." 

Well!  Randy is not known for his speediness, but this was ridiculous, even for his standards!  He was pushing the shopping cart like it weighed 8 tons, and cooing at Serena like he'd never met her before, then he was driving like an old man, even in the parking lot.  I was growing hungrier and crabbier by the nanosecond.  First he forces them to invite us over, then he purposely shows up late!  The nerve!  But the thing is, he's so dang NICE about everything, that I couldn't even get that angry with him.  He's just so calm and irritatingly cheerful, as he deliberately turns left where I tell he to turn right.  At one point, I jokingly (but only half so) accuse him of disobeying me, which utterly confused poor Micah, who then for the rest of the ride (which was way longer than it should have been) kept asking, "Why did Daddy disobey?"  So we get there and I see a car that looks a little bit like our friends' ZJ and Zach
el's car parked a few houses down and that is the first time I get concerned that this is more than just a dinner date with a nice family from church.  So we're getting out of the car, and I'm like, "Please tell me it's only them inside their house, Randy!  I'm way too cranky now and I've been annoyed at you and if there's a whole lot of nice people in there to surprise me, I just can't handle it and what if I end up being rude because I'm so cranky and that would mean that all your crazy behavior was warranted and in fact, for my own benefit…"  He remains vague enough that I can't figure anything out and that's when Zessica comes running out of the house to greet us and Micah tells her that, "Daddy disobeyed Mommy."  I tell her that I'm so sorry we're late and Randy wasn't driving normally and I'm so horrified that he commanded her to invite us, etc, etc.  My lack of filter issues going on and on, as we walk into the house, and run smack dab into… a surprise party!  AAAGGGHHH!! 

 Yep, he planned, way in advance, in a very non-rude fasion, for me to have an evening with 4 of my girlfriends, with no kids or hubbies.  Just us.  And Olive Garden food.  And ice cream cake.  And games that he knows I like (I'm so dumb too.  Zessica pulls out these games and I'm like, "Oh, I have that game too!" No really?  "Yes, that's because YOUR husband brought these for us!!!"  "oh." I say, sheepishly).

So after the momentary panic of, "Wait, you're leaving?  With the kids?  I have to leave my baby without days and days of notice and planning and worrying?  Just like that?  Bam!" I began to really embrace the idea:  "So you're taking them?  And you'll feed them and put them in bed?  And I can just be here with these friends and eat yummy food and talk and relax?  WOW!  YOU ARE THE BEST HUSBAND IN THE WORLD!!"

So we had a great time: Zessica, Zebecca, Zachel, Zrish, and me.  We ate, played a crazy game, ate more, and of course talked, talked, talked.  About what?  Well, mainly our kids of course.  (Maybe moms don't know how to talk about anything else?)  But telling other ladies about wiping your son's bottom is a whole lot more enjoyable than actually wiping said bottom.  And guess what?  I found out that not all the other women are perfect, have-it-all-together moms either!  Like, Zrish's kids didn't know what the ironing board was "Wow, is that a surf board, Mom?!" and Zebecca doesn't bathe each and every one of her 5 children each and every night, and Zessica's son loves to get out of bed in the evening and watch with glee from his secret hiding place as his parents scamper crazily around the house trying to find him to return him to his bed, and sometimes Zachel's baby has trouble sleeping and even sometimes cries about it!  Ah, the blessing of the assurance that I am not alone!

We all stayed out way too late (and Lily and Rose were ready to leave long before I was; in fact I do believe they led me out the door and home, in search of either Serena or the pump).  But it was so much fun!  And if any of the Z's husbands are reading this, please accept my deepest thanks for allowing your wives to be out until all hours to celebrate my birthday with me.  It certainly makes the dreaded 30 a little bit more bearable!!

The only bad thing about all this, and this scary feeling comes so often after one of Randy's fabulous surprises, that now I think I get stressed even during the surprise just anticipating its arrival is:  How can I ever come up with, much less carry out, something nearly as wonderful and thoughtful to do for him for his birthday???