Speaking of excess baggage, anyone want a roomate??

First off I'm going to pat myself on the back here, yay me for running almost everyday this last week! I took two days off however, one to put a whole bunch of new music on my fancy schmancy MP3 player and the other to just sit and eat cookies, oh I mean carrot sticks.....yeah, yummy yummy carrot sticks.

Today I think something has finally sunk in however, that yes I may deserve the pat on the back for getting off my couch every evening after baby goes to bed, but I also need a pat on my ass to remind me that its still there and will continue to grow if I don't stop with the absent minded eating. I am not going to say that I'm going to start to count calories today, fooled ya didn't I! I will instead start on Monday, after I go camping and eat all the yummy things that go along with it, including beer!!!! I will be more aware of what I'm putting in my mouth between now and then though, and will probably enjoy every single tantalizing chew....

So the other day, I went into my fridge to pull out on of my....er....carrot sticks, and there sitting in the fridge in a black garbage bag is a half eaten turkey. You may be thinking wow, they're so healthy and on the edge, eating turkey when it not even a holiday. You would be correct in assuming that I am on the edge, on the edge of going frickin crazy!!!!!!!

Let me begin back in December when Tom the turkey first showed up on the scene. My brother, The Roommate, won a 20+ pound turkey at his Christmas party. Let me just say here that he had the choice in what size of turkey he wanted, and yes my friends he chose the biggest one, because I guess in hie eyes bigger is always better. So Tom came to live in the little freezer that is built into our fridge. Don't ever get one of the fridges with the freezer on the bottom, they are tiny both upstairs and downstairs!

So, Tom snuggled down in his new digs for his long winters nap. When I say long I mean long. You would think that this turkey would have made its way onto a table somewhere, being that is was Christmas and all. But oh know, not when The Roommate is concerned. He decided that he was going to take it to our dads place on the island, two ferries away, when he went to visit. Thinking that he would be going in the next few weeks, whatever, we could work around the turkey.

So Christmas was what, 6 months ago, and Tom was only just taken of ice, two weeks ago!! 6 months!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So The Roommate, who is sans vehicle at this point in his life, puts Tom in his duffel bag, yes his duffel bag, and proceeded to the island. First of all, who eats a turkey not on a holiday, isn't there some un-written rule that says you can't, and if there isn't, when did Vancouver Island run out of Turkeys?!?!

Finally, Tom flew the coop!! My husband and I literally peered into the freezer together, head to head, like a frozen dinner commercial, and smiled at our new found space! Gone, gone, gone was Tom, and The Roommate as well for 4 whole days!!! Now, when I say gone for 4 whole days I was referring to The Roommate, however, as I opened the fridge the night of The Roommates return home, I realized that I was also, apparently, referring to Tom. There he was, albeit in a slightly altered state than I had last seen him, poor skinless Tom, partially devoured and placed in a black garbage bag, like a forgotten mob hit.

So I got what I wanted, Tom out of my freezer, how the heck was I supposed to know that the Damn turkey would come back and move up in the world, into my fridge! Whats really sad in that Tom has travelled further than I have in the last 6 months!!! So a few days after Tom came home to roost, he started to do what most dead things in black garbage bags do, smell. He wasn't rotten, it was just that cooked meat smell that your fridge takes on,, letting you know that its time to deal with it. So I mention to The Roommate that its time to do something with it. What does he do, eat it, make some soup......oh know!!! He sticks in back in freezer, black plastic bag and tin foil tray and all !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF, is all I have to say.

I called him on it, there was no flippin way that Tom was going to be around to see another Christmas, not in my house! I kindly pointed out that IF he ever got around to eating him again he would have to eat the whole thing, so why not just pick the meat off and separate it into individual ziploc bags. Simple solution right? Wrong. The Roommate flipped out and slammed Tom back into the fridge and stomped out. Soooooo, Tom was once again in my fridge.

Two days later, on a rainy and blustery day, I had really had it, and as The Roommate stood making a sandwich, PB and J, not turkey, I told him that I wanted Tom out of my fridge! Well, the PB knife was slammed on the counter, and once again he stormed out. He came back in wearing a hat and grabbed Tom and went outside. As it was garbage day I figured he went and tossed Tom in the can outside. However, 10 minutes later I realized poor Tom was being treated to a more dismal farewell. The Roommate, instead of freezing the meat in nice one-person sized ziplock bags, which any non-lazy non-food wasting person would do, instead took Tom into the back woods, dug a hole, and threw Tom the turkey in there! I think it took more work to get his rain gear on, find a shovel, carry Tom out into the woods, dig a hole, and fill the hole back in, than it would have to have picked the meat off, but that's just me.

So I learned two things, one: boys suck, or maybe its just roommates. Yup, I think its just roommates. Secondly, things wrapped in black garbage bags always mean trouble.

Rainy Day Thoughts....

I'm feeling in one of those moods where you just want to curl up in one corner of the couch with a huge cup of coffee and a good friend in the other corner of said couch and talk for endless hours about absolutely nothing. It could be the rainy day or possibly it was the text that I received last night from one of my favorite people....It wasn't anything sappy or fluffy it was merely a quick note to let me know that I was considered a good friend and thank you for being there.

It made me think about all of the things, good and bad, that have created the vast amount of memories that make up our relationship. We all have friends, but there are some who mean more than others. You know, the ones who make those lasting imprints in our lives. The friends who can tell from your Face Book status that they need to give you a call, or the ones who send you flowers for no reason other than the fact that they thought of you on a sunny day. Friends who know you, the real you. I am lucky enough to say that I have a few friends like these.

As I sit here being all nostalgic and reminiscent I can't help but think about whether or not I'm truly being all that I can be.....No, not in the army sense but the friend sense. In between late night sleep interruptions, care of my sweet sweet baby boy, the everyday adventures of my new babyfied life and of course trying to be the caring and supportive wife that I am (lol), do I really have that much left of myself to give to yet another person....I must being doing something right, after all I received a text confirmation from a real person, and I didn't even have to pay them! But is it enough, could I be doing more, should I be doing more.............

I think, in a round about way, this is mother guilt. Because I am now a mother, and have, as mentioned, a babyfied life, the time that used to be spent on creating and maintaining friendships, now is mostly spent on mothering. So, for a change, I am not feeling guilty about not mothering enough but instead am feeling guilty for not friending enough! (Wow, how do you like my creative vocabulary.) Where does the guilt end? And when did I become so emotional that I can turn a perfectly wonderful sentiment, such as a text, into a huge guilt ridden rant......Oh right, since creating life and taking a trip down the hormonal road called motherhood!

There is a saying, "It takes years to grow and old friend." And it was years ago, before my babyfied life, and even my married life in many cases, that many of my most dear friendships were created. And it is these "old friends" who I, and I'm sure you, my faithful reader(s?),have come to rely on. The ones who accept the changes in our friendships, who understand the reasons for such things as a missed coffee date or the delay in returning a phone call. So I suppose that there is no reason to feel guilty for not being able to spend as much time as I used to on my friendships, as long as I remember to make what time I do have count, and to remember that one day our lives won't be quite so busy.