You can't handle the truth!

The other day, DH told me that he feels as though I don't tell him what's really on my mind; that I squash things down in the interest of keeping the peace. That someday, I'm going to explode and he's never going to see it coming.

hmmm...

Now, there is some truth to what he says. DH and I are a clear case of opposites attracting. He's a pessimist and I'm an optimist (no, really. Stop laughing.) He says something is black, and I say its white. When he gets worked up over something, I try to make things better instead of worse. I try not to get into shouting matches with him because it serves nothing, in fact it generally ensures that things will hit the slippery slope that much faster. This doesn't make me a pushover; I just pick my battles and put my foot down only when its something I'm serious about -- I'm not about fighting just to fight, you know? I also tend not to fight with DH over things that will never change, such as his relationship with his mother. This little blogspace is an homage to the things that I willingly overlook. But it annoys me when he says he wants the truth, because he doesn't really. He's sticking a loaded gun in my face and telling me to pull the trigger. In the words of the immortal Jack Nicholson, "you can't handle the truth" - he doesn't REALLY want to know what's on my mind. He'd just use it against me. So lucky you, you get to continue reading my internal monologue.

The girls are doing so well. The Early Intervention folks are discussing another evaluation by a psychiatrist, but I'm not going for it. The other day one of the therapists took out a pair of pom-poms for Dr. D. to play with -- in the past, the therapist has always taken them out and said, "RAH RAH RAH!". When Dr. D. saw them this week, she said, "RAH RAH RAH!" She's getting so good at imitating your tone of voice when you speak, two therapists swore she said, "thank you" this week...(we're working on "give me" and "thank you")

This weekend is going to be so busy its going to be over before it even starts. I have my sales team meeting tomorrow, so DH is taking the babies to his mother's while he does his usual Saturday errands, and two of my nieces are coming over to sleep Saturday night. In case you're new to my blog, I HATE having these kids in my house, so I've given DH the directive to keep them out of the house -- take them to the park, the diner, the mall...I don't care. I don't want them in my house acting like the animals they are. Never mind the fact that both girls have siblings that have been sick in the last couple of weeks - my nephew had strep throat apparently. DH laughs at me and calls me a germophobe, and maybe I am (did I mention that I think I've given myself dermatitis from washing my hands too much? Hello OCD...) but having S. in the hospital last year was a nightmare I'm not looking to repeat. Why invite trouble? Why bring these germy kids into my house to slobber all over my kids? Am I crazy? Probably.

Here's the Friday Fiver, have a great weekend!

1. Have you ever been to the ocean? - yes
2. When is the last time you wore a swimsuit? - The summer of '03, I think.
3. Do you respect people more for staying through difficult times or knowing when to call it quits? - Hanging in there takes the most strength and the most balls.
4. Name a TV show that made a huge splash in the beginning, but has since gone downhill: - "Survivor" and "Apprentice"
5. Have you ever eaten shark? - no