My Genius Husband

This last week has been absolutely NUTS!  Mostly thanks to my genius husband.....

He's wasn't winking at the camera!  His eye was swollen shut!  It was kind of blue and purple too, but since his skin is so dark it doesn't really show up on camera.

Tuesday at work they called me to the office over the intercom.  The secretary told me that my mom was at the hospital with my husband and that I needed to call them.  Duh, I needed to call them!  So I call my mom, I can here Cangrejo MOANING in the background and all I really understood was that he drove the 4-wheeler to my mom's work and he crashed and they were in the emergency room.  Fantastic.

So I get to the hospital and his face is all bloody and his eye is GINORMOUS and he keeps mumbling about how it hurts and he keeps asking me for Isabel.

This is what happened:  He had the day off from work and he got bored so he thought it would be a good idea to go on a 4-wheeler ride.  (Now let me make this clear...our 4-wheeler isn't like one of those little, light, sporty ones that are made for like sand dunes, and trick riding, and stuff like that.  It's a Honda 4x4 Rancher, so it's really heavy duty.  Heavy duty like, my dad uses it to haul dead animals out of the mountains and to plow sometimes up to 5 feet of snow.)  Turns out, it wasn't such a fabulous idea!  He was going up a hill of dirt and the wheeler didn't make it and flipped backwards on top of him (not wearing a helmet).  One side of the handlebars hit him in the eye and the other side hit him in the chest causing the handlebar to BEND IN HALF.  He said he thinks he passed out for a few minutes and when he woke up there was blood GUSHING OUT OF HIS FACE!  He couldn't see out of one eye so OBVIOUSLY he starts freaking out because he thinks that his eye has fallen out of his head.  So thank goodness for adrenaline he somehow flips the 4-wheeler back over and drives it about a mile back to the house.  He tries calling me and my mom on our cell phones and neither one of us answer.  He went to my aunt's house next door and no one was home, so what does he do?  He gets BACK ON THE 4-WHEELER AND DRIVES 2 MILES TO MY MOM'S WORK.  He had to go on the highway to get there.  So he gets to my mom's work (she works at an elementary school) but he couldn't remember what room she was in.  His English is no bueno, but he goes to the office and asked for my mom by name.  So the secretary (who is a really scary lady) called to my mom's room and told her to come to the office.  Picture this: Hispanic man, one eye swollen shut, clothing torn, blood all over his face, can't really speak English, and this lady gets an attitude with him asking "How exactly do you know her?  Why do you need to talk to her?"  My mom gets to the office and he hugs her.  My mom tells her that he's her son-in-law and the lady suddenly changes her attitude, "Oh, would you like me to call 911?"  Uhh.....no thanks.

So my mom took him to the hospital, they got hold of me, and I got there.

They came to get him for a CT scan and x-rays of his chest.  Want to know something really funny?  I can only share this because 1-he doesn't read my blog and 2-even if he did he couldn't understand it anyways.  They injected him with some liquid when they did the CT scan.  The nurse explained to him that he would get a sensation like jumping into a jacuzzi and that it might feel like he wet his pants, but not to worry, because he wouldn't.  So they injected and he told me that his body was getting really warm and then all of a sudden he exclaims "AY! MIS HUEVOS!"  Which roughly translates to "OH! MY BALLS!"  I would have completely lost it at this point, but he was genuinely freaking out so I had to just try to calm him down.  I'm cracking up now just thinking about it.  SO we were there a while longer while the looked at the CT scan and then they sent us home with a pain prescription and an antibiotic (because he hadn't had a tetanus shot in like 8 years).  

Now get this, we had been home for TWO HOURS and the hospital called to inform us that they FORGOT to take x-rays of his chest and we needed to go back right away.  He had a CHEST CONTUSION and they FORGOT to take an X-RAY of his CHEST.  So we took him back to the freakin hospital and they took x-rays of his chest.  Says there's nothing wrong (thank goodness) and not to be alarmed if he coughs up blood for a few days (which he did.)

Thursday we went to a PLASTIC SURGEON (OMG I never thought I would go to talk to a plastic surgeon about anything).  Here's the low down.  Usually, you break the bone that's under your eye.  My talented husband broke the bone that's in between his eye socket and his nasal cavity and the muscle that moves his eye is in the place where the bone is supposed to be.  Fabulous.  If they operated they could do damage to other muscles and his eyelids could go all droopy SO we're hoping it will heal itself up.  Until then, we have to go back to the plastic surgeon once a week to check on progress and he's out of work for a while because he can't get dust in his eye or do to much heavy lifting.  Hey, doctor, this shit is gonna be expensive!  So yesterday I gave my 2 weeks notice :(  As bad as I don't want to be a temp and work in a factory, I'll be making more than double what I'm making now.  Poop.  At least he'll be home and I won't have to pay a babysitter :)

Spanish Friday

I decided to participate in Spanish Friday over at Latinaish today!  I know yesterday I said I would vlog, but then I didn't put any make-up on today, and I didn't feel like broadcasting my plain old face.  HOWEVER, I did upload some pictures for you.  (Not of me.)

Cuando me casè con este Salvadoreño guapo tambien me casè con una cultura maravillosa.  Una cultura en que la gente me acceptan con los brazos abiertos y una plata llena de comida rica!

When I married this good-looking Salvadoran, I also married into a marvelous culture.  A culture in which the people accept me with open arms and a plate full of good food!

Hablando de comida, hoy fui con mi esposo a la unica pupuseria cerca de donde vivimos.  El otro dìa yo tratè de hacer pupusas para el y salieron algo mal.  Cuando uno va allà te hacen sentir como parte de la familia entonces me siento mal educada cuando no quito mi propio plato de la mesa.  Tienen ''En dios confiamos'' pintado en una de las paredes.  Los dueños del restaurante son una pareja bien amable.  El señor pica las verduras y lava los platos y la señora prepara toda la comida ella sola.  Parece que tienen unos setenta años pero allì estan trabajando juntos todos los dìas.

Speaking of food, today I went with my husband to the only 'pupuseria' near where we live.  The other day I tried to make pupusas for him, and they came out kind of bad.  When you go there they always make you feel like part of the family, and so I feel like I have bad manners when I don't clear my plate from the table.  They have ''En dios confiamos" (In God we trust) painted on one of the walls.  The owners of the restaurant are a very friendly couple.  The man cuts vegetables and washes dishes and the lady prepares all of the food by herself.  I think they're about seventy years old (maybe older...) but there they are, working together, every day.

Blog Stalk Friday

Only 4 hours until Blog Stalk Friday over at Rockin' Mama!  Go link up and meet some awesome knew people.  

Vlog coming tomorrow! Let's just say I am WAY glad that September is over because it has been one hell of a month.  I'm not gonna get 9 posts this month (BOO) because I've been taking care of my husband.  He spent Tuesday afternoon in the emergency room.  More on that tomorrow.

Sad Day

I really wanted to do a vlog for you guys yesterday or today, but last night I got some pretty rotten news.  One of my very good friends passed away.  He was in the Marines and was stationed in Hawaii.

I've never experienced a feeling like this.  I feel.....helpless?  I'm not sure that's the right word.  I'm planning on doing a longer post about him.  Some sort of a tribute.  But I can't tonight.  My head won't let me.  I'm still kind of in shock and I can't really get all of my thoughts together.  For now, I'm just trying to calm myself down and pray for his family. . .and I don't really pray.  I can't begin to imagine how they must be feeling.  He was an amazing guy, and he will always be remembered.  Love you always, Sammy boy.

This is he and I about 2 years ago.  He was home on leave and was nice enough to take my pregnant ass out to lunch so we could catch up.

Furry Balls

I for real heard this conversation today. . . . .In my very own home :

Dad to Mom : Have you seen my little furry balls?

Mom : What furry balls?

Dad : You know, the furry balls that you squeeze with your fists and you roll 'em around.

Mom : What?!

Dad : You know, the ones for my upper arm exercises.


And that's when I realized that my dad WASN'T being a freaking pervert.

Oh, and my mom didn't know where they were.  Just in case you were wondering how the story ended.

How I Learned Spanish Pt. 1

People always ask me how I learned to speak Spanish, and sometime, somewhere, while I just sat there going "Uhhhhh....." someone answered for me, "en las calles"-in the streets.  That sounded like a pretty good answer so now that's what I usually tell people, accompanied by a shrug of my shoulders.  I realize that's kind of vague, so.....I guess I'll put the whole story here!  And then when people ask me, I can direct them here.  Yay.

We'll start at what I think is the beginning.  It doesn't really have anything to do with speaking Spanish, but it led up to it sooo.......here we go.

It all started back in 9th grade.  I was kind of racist in the sense that I was afraid of anyone that wasn't white.  Mostly men.  I don't really know why.  This is partly why I now believe the whole thing about 'people are afraid of what they're not familiar with', because that's pretty much how it was.  According to the 2010 census, about 95% of the town that I live in was white.  And I'm guessing that's gone down from whatever the percentage was 20 years ago when I was born.  When I was in elementary school 3 Hispanic kids rode my bus and I was afraid of them.  (One of them is now my very best friend.)  Anyways, I'm getting off track.  Point is, I was kinda racist, now I'm not.

Back to 9th grade, I had drifted away from the girls that I had been friends with since I was a little girl.  I felt like they were prettier and skinnier than me, and boys liked them, but not me.  (Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but they really were skinnier.  I couldn't share clothes like the rest of them.)  Boys probably didn't like me because I knew that I was smarter than them and I talked down to them.  I had a crush on this boy, and he didn't like me because I was better at percussion than him.  Ugh, off track again.

So I got new friends.  It didn't matter if they were better looking or skinnier or anything, because I felt like it didn't matter to them.

Meet Tori-Half black, half white, but adopted by white people.  Soo.....see how I justified in my 14 year old mind why it was 'okay' for me to be friends with her?

Meet Dotta-Half Hispanic, half white, but doesn't speak Spanish and neither does anyone in her family.  (See the justification again.)

Let me say this, if the me today met the me back then, I would bitch slap my silly self.

Anyway, we were pretty punk.  We hung out with 'skater boys' and listened to stuff with face melting guitar solos and some screaming.  Some people were afraid of us (which was weird, but invigorating).  Dotta would say things that made people angry and then expect Tori and I to defend her.

Tori played bass guitar and I 'played' the drums.  She had some guy friends a year older than us that wanted to start a band and guess what they were missing!  That's right, a bass guitar player and a drummer.  Tori convinced me to go check it out.  So, we went to the lead guitarist's house.

Long story a little bit shorter, I was afraid of him for like the first day (cause he was Hispanic) and then for every day after that for like 2 years (or maybe more) I was infatuated.  This is where the Spanish language comes in, and I'm ending Part 1 of How I Learned Spanish.  In Part 2 I'll introduce you to George.

Take THAT writer's block!

I'm having serious writers block.  I've had it for a long time.  And it's pissing me off.  So let's see how this goes.....

I went running last Thursday.  It's the first strenuous activity I've done since before I was pregnant.  That was 2 years ago, and I'm paying for it.  Ever since Friday I've had like weird, awful, contraction like pains all around my stomach, and my legs feel.........swollen?  But they're not?  I don't really know, but I can't go up or down stairs or sit down without.......whimpering?  Yeah, I guess you could call it that.

Uhh......yesterday I froze 114 ears worth of corn OFF the cob, which is definitely not as wonderful as corn on the cob, but I guess it will do.  It took me like 5 hours and I only got like 15 quarts of corn.  And I gave 2 quarts away because, well, I'm a good person like that.

OH!  I had a nail appointment yesterday with a 10 year old haha.  She did a pretty good job, and it was definitely worth my 2 dollars.  She even gave me a punch card and my 5th appointment is FREE.  She was ridiculously professional, for a 10 year old.

I'm watching the original version of the movie Arthur.  It's different, but it's still pretty funny.  I still love Russel Brand and it's kind of weird that the original Hobson was a man, but I'll get over it, because I've decided that I love Liza Minnelli.

Wellllll, I shouldn't really be blogging because I have to make 10 or 12 (I haven't decided yet) soft baby blocks before Saturday because I have two baby showers to attend.  I'll put pics up because they are fabulous.  Maybe a tutorial???  Hmmm.......I've never done one.  But if you want a tutorial, leave a comment and let me know and I'll see what I can do.

Peace out for now, bitches.