What's new pussycat...whoooaaaaaa...

So it's over...they're over...all of these shows that have ruled my DVR for the past few months. Seriously. The weather is getting nice and I cannot be addicted to any shows anymore.

Taylor Hicks wins! SOUL PATROL! SOUL PATROL! SOUL PATROL!

I loved him even when I didn't like him...when I wanted him to do more than "act" like Joe Cocker and Ray Charles. And over time I came to realize, this isn't an act...it really is him...and he can't help himself. He won me over very early on with "Levon" and cemented it with songs like "Living for the City" and "In the Ghetto"...he's the real deal and I'm so happy. His first CD will be total crap, they always are. We'll see what he does 2nd and 3rd after the AI production monkeys are through with him.

Enough of that AI bullshit...on to less important drivel...

My boss came into my office this morning and said "I have to give you credit, I don't know how you do it." He does this often...walks into my office assuming I've been lingering in the conversation he started in his head and just blurts out whatever is in the middle. Huh. "What are you talking about?" I ask. "The multitasking busy nights with baseball and homework and dinner and getting the kids to bed at a decent time. " Oh...THAT. It IS an artform, and one that I've perfected I might say. It's a team effort in my house, I have to give props to the Kev-head for helping with the chaos. (Although I fear that help is short-lived now that there's the HD in the picture)

But it's no wonder my boss is amazed and utterly confused by the whole thing. Multi-tasking is not a male trait. None of them can do it...nor do they try. It's genetically infused in them to only think about one thing at a time, and to not remember ANY scheduling that they themselves did not initiate. And even then it's a crapshoot. I have to remind Kevin every day ... EVERY DAY for a week before we have something coming up on the weekend. And every day is a new day, and everyday he exclaims "WHAT?" like it's the first time I've ever mentioned that we have people coming over, or a wedding to go to, or that we're flying out to Pittsburgh. WHAT? That's THIS weekend??? Yes, dear. There was one weekend when we had a dinner or something on Friday, a party on Saturday night and there was something on Sunday, too, but I can't remember what. We're laying in bed on like, Tuesday, and he casually rolls over and says "We don't have anything going on this weekend, do we?" I sat straight up in bed, STRAIGHT UP and shouted "You are fucking KIDDING me, right???" Because sometimes he is. But he wasn't. He had NO idea. NO IDEA. Unbe-fucking-lievable.

So it's no wonder that even though he's Coach Kevin I have to tell him when the games are and where they are and make sure the uniforms are clean and set out. He tried to trick me today by pretending he forgot about my eye doctor appt and that he has to pick up the boys. Yeah, really funny. I have nightmares about him forgetting shit like this and Alex falling asleep in some cubby in the library drooling all over some library book that I'll then have to pay for. Luckily school is almost over.

But why...why can't men remember anything? Kevin remembers lots of stuff for work, but nothing about home. It's like he gets out of that truck and leaves his brain there...nothing left for me but food...drink...sex...sleep...sex...work...it's his thing and for the most part I don't hold it against him. Like my birthday...or the kids' birthdays...or HIS birthday for that matter. He will never remember. I'm not offended. I just know that he won't remember a thing I tell him and that I'll have to repeat myself over and over. And then I'm nagging. And they wonder how we become nagging bitches?? Like it's just naturally there, like they haven't socially conditioned us for YEARS to remind them about everything, and then all of a sudden we remind them about one little thing and WHAM! They jump down our throats - "I've got it! You don't have to tell me 97 times!" Well excuse me Mr. Memory...but history has made it very clear I DO! It's a fine line...to balance the "reminders" with the "orders" and as my hubby likes to call it "Macho Woman Syndrome." But don't they realize that when they literally put us in charge of everything (dinner, shuffle service, making doctor's appts, prescriptions for life-saving medication, DVR programming, whether or not you have clean underwear/socks, social calendar) - it's very hard to know when to stop? And very hard to know when they'll want us to stop.

ETA: Today's musical selection: Nikka Costa...get your funk on y'all. It's that kind of weekend.