"How I Met Your Mother" is one of our favorite shows and Monday was one of their best episodes ever. The slap bet is a running gag and Marshall owed Barney a slap to be redeemed whenever he wanted. He sent Barney a link to a countdown clock to Slapsgiving. Barney was saying how it wasn't scary since he knew it was coming, Lily got mad and said Marshall couldn't do it and... watch the show. And be sure not to be drinking anything while you watch it unless you want to spit it at the TV. And then check out the video for Marshall's song.
Today was a good day. I'm in Tulsa with Ryan's parents and sibs and the nieces and nephews. All went well today without any major meltdowns. And the kids were good, too. Ba-dum-bum. I was able to eat turkey & gravy, stuffing, sweet potatoes, rolls, corn, and pumpkin cake. I did have to pass on the mashed potatoes, which was sad, but they usually don't have them here (this house, not Tulsa) so I wasn't expecting them. I haven't had too hard of a time with food here, although I ate one Cheeto and 8 tiny Tostitos last night and finally fell asleep at 3:30 after worrying that they did indeed contain soybean oil (they say "may contain soybean or ____ or ____ oil) and I was going to have a hypertensive crisis and die. Obviously, I didn't, but I'll be good from now on. It's not worth the worry--or the danger.
Today we went to visit one of Ryan's high school friends and his wife and children. They're lovely people and Ryan asked for advice on having children. Not that anyone can tell us to do it or not, but he really respects his friend and wanted to know why someone like him would choose to have kids. And those two kids they have are absolutely adorable. Even when shrieking like banshees at the mere thought of being bathed.
We're still talking about having kids, but the fact that this new dosage seems to be working so far is a good sign. I also want to talk to a therapist a little about some things, too.
Funny story: I've been getting a little impatient with Ryan. I'm terrified but I'm really thinking that this is something that I want to do and he'd alternate between maybe we should do it and maybe we shouldn't and isn't our current life great with our running and lazy Saturday breakfasts and naps until noon and lying on the couch and going and doing whatever, whenever. I started to think that we need to get started soon if we're going to do it. ("Soon" = summertime. Or later. I'll be 34 then.) The other night I was cleaning the downstairs bedroom and Ryan walked in and did his walk and mutter under his breath thing. He turns to me and says something about having to get rid of almost all of the current furniture before we turn it into a nursery.
SLOW DOWN, BUDDY! (Hyperventilating)
Yeah, I'm insane. Poor man is stuck with me, but a child? Should I really be a mother? Should I inflict myself on some poor, helpless child?