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Archive for the ‘Male Traits’ Category

There is no single more recurring topic in this blog than laundry.

 

Since they say a picture is worth 1000 words… so today, I’m providing you with 4000 words.   Or, a pictorial glimpse into “My Life Through Laundry”

 

To start, you will see a basket filled with hubby’s clean & folded laundry from almost 2 weeks ago.  Behind this basket of laundry is an un-packed suitcase from a trip we took this past weekend,  filled with – yep, you guessed it…. dirty laundry.  And, oh yeah, beside the clean basket of clothes…… well, don’t ya know it…. more dirty laundry.

laundry basket

 

This is a snapshot of our bed (yes, it’s un-made – Don’t judge me!)… but, more importantly, it’s a shot of hubby’s jammies from last night – aka laundry.

bed laundry

 

This is a quick glimpse of hubby’s dresser.  It looks just as it always does… with a pile of folded & clean laundry on top.  (Laundry winds up here because some days, I actually need the basket  – you know, the one holding the clean laundry –  to go and carry more dirty laundry to be washed in the basement.  When I need the basket, I place the clean laundry on top of the bed… and then, it gets mysteriously moved here – to the TOP of the dresser.

dresser laundry

 

This is a view into our bathroom…. Or perhaps more accurately, more dirty laundry.  This laundry usually consists of what hubby wore yesterday.  It’s ever-present.  Perhaps not for more than 1 day – and hubby would have you believe that this laundry is, in fact, a gift to me.  In-so-much-as, if he comes to bed after me, he takes his clothes off in the bathroom so he won’t disturb me (there he is – my genuinely loving guy… always looking out for me).  Until of course you realize that Every-Day there’s the previous day’s outfit on the floor of the bathroom (and quite possibly – assorted other bonus items – do I see more jammies??!!)

 

bathroom laundry

 

I will also have you know that I literally just snapped these shots… each picture is not from a different day.  They are all from TODAY.  From 10 minutes ago.  I can take the same pictures tomorrow and then again on Friday.  This is my life.    The life I have chosen.   And…. You all wonder why I blog so much about laundry??

 

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You would think that after being married for almost 11 years – YIKES!  I would inherently know what to expect from hubby.   You’d think I could no longer be surprised by any of his quirks, or his actions.  You’d think that I could complete his sentences and just know what he’s going to want for dinner or how he’ll answer a question.  BUT, if you really believe that, you haven’t been reading the blog for very long.

 

Because the only constant in my life, is change.  When I’m POSITIVE hubby will only eat plain pizza, he orders sausage & peppers.  When I’m certain beyond any reasonable doubt that his favorite beer is Heineken…. today it’s not, it’s Arrogant Bastard (yes – this is really a beer.. and very aptly named for my hubby – HA!).  But tomorrow it could just as easily be DogFish Head… and next Tuesday it just may be some sort of Dead Guy Ale.  You see, hubby likes to be difficult, annoying… ok, he likes to keep our marriage spicy and fresh and new – he does this by constantly changing his mind and by constantly making me second guess everything I think I know about him.   Now, that’s love.  I’m sure he’s doing this for my benefit – so I get to re-discover him each and every day.  I get to fall in love with someone new all the time.  UGH!  Really, I just want to smack him upside the head and say… “you can’t be absurdly adamant about something one second and then pull a complete 180 in your opinion 2 days later!”  And he would ever-so-lovingly reply “why not?”

 

And so here I sit… always wondering what new thing I will learn about hubby today.  Maybe it truly is that men never grow up…. Because his behavior is not unlike that of my toddler.  He’s easily distracted. He can immediately forget what he just told me.  He’s difficult simply because he’s testing his limits.  He’s engrossed in something so completely for 10 minutes and then he’s moved on to something totally different.   I think I just discovered something.  I live with TWO 2 year olds (although, only one can annoy me with his beer choices!)

 

Sometimes, I write these blog posts and I find myself way off on a tangent… but I guess that’s what happens when you’re in love and you simultaneously want to smack your spouse upside the head.  You’re pulled in two opposing directions and reeling yourself back in when you’re ranting can be tough.  Today’s post was supposed to be about t-shirts… and geez… look where I am.  So, here’s my graceful transition to t-shirts….

 

It all has to do with that consistency thing again.  There is generally one thing that’s IS consistent.  Hubby has preferred clothes.  So, while he may have a full closet and many drawers full of options, he wears like the same 5 things… over and over and over and over.  He is imparting this lovely “style” to our son.  Any time I send hubby upstairs to grab an outfit for mini-hubby, he comes down with one of the same 2 shirts.  Every week, the same 2 shirts.  His response “well he likes these shirts”.  My response “YOU like these shirts… he’s 22 months old – he could sort of care less what shirt he has on…. unless you make an issue of it!”.   I suppose if I wait long enough, like almost every other “consistent”, one day I’ll wake up and hubby will have decided on a brand new “every-day” shirt for our son.  Or, one day I will wake up (this one is probably more likely) and our toddler, will indeed have his own opinion of shirts – and he will demand the same shirt every day.  Will this be learned behavior directly from his Dada OR will this be normal toddler behavior that will now be exhibited by BOTH of my children??

 

I can only imagine a day where mini-hubby and Hubby are now teenagers and they are both eating the same thing for lunch every day, drinking the exact same beverages, giving the exact same reason that cannot (or will not) do laundry, wearing the same shirt every day (still)… until that one magical day.  The day where they wake up and decide that the lunch-of-the-week has fallen out of favor only to be replaced with another “new” lunch that will get consumed for the next month straight.  OR,  at some point, will my toddler surpass my hubby and actually grow up into diversity?   If there’s anyone taking pity on me from out there in the universe… the latter will be my future.  Please, oh please, let this be my future!

 

Here my friends… is one of the 2 favorite shirts (and yes, my Super Men are mighty cute!)

Super Men

 

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In the almost 5 years I’ve been blogging there is one recurring topic that I can’t quite seem to stay away from.    In case you’re a new reader I’ll share just a few posts with you (HERE, HERE , HERE & HERE)

 

Most people dislike 4 letter words but me, nope, I like a lot of 4 letter words. … words like Love, Food, Hugs & Beer (and probably too often, just about all of those 4 letter words that are incredibly inappropriate in mixed company – yep, I have a mouth like a sailor!).  It’s generally the 6 letter words that I hate.. words like, crumbs, chores, toilet,  but there is one word that can top them all….the ever-so-dreaded 7 letter word that I quite simply, just despise – LAUNDRY.

 

I hate every aspect of it.

I hate the piles of dirty laundry in the closet.  The piles of dirty laundry in the bathroom.  The piles of dirty laundry next to the bed.

I hate the sorting.

I hate the process of carrying 6 baskets of dirty laundry to the basement.

I hate dirty towels.

I hate dirty sheets.

(I hate that I’m the only one who recognizes that linens actually need laundering….)

I hate remembering that I have clothes in the dryer before they become a crumbled mess.

I hate the absurd missing sock conundrum (which has apparently extended to actual toddler clothes – since I never seem to get out what I put in)

I hate the countless hours on any given weekend where laundry looms just underneath the surface and permeates just about anything we do.

I hate the weight of the laundry as it pushes down on my shoulders if I should opt to focus on any other activity (besides laundry) during a weekend.

I hate, Hate, HATE folding all the clean laundry.

And, I hate putting all the clean laundry away.  (or leaving it to be put away on the bed only to find that hubby has moved piles of it to the dresser and will live like this for the next 2 weeks – but that’s an entirely different blog post)

 

But the one thing that I don’t HATE (or at least not in the way I hate everything noted above) is the need to flip inside out laundry to be right side out.  I know this is the nemesis of Mom’s around the world.  And I know that many a woman has instilled a laundry rule… that you get back laundry exactly-the-way you put your laundry into the basket (assuming it makes it into a basket).  And, perhaps, when my toddler becomes a teen, I will be instituting this exact same rule (ok – it’s likely I probably will) BUT, for now.. this has never been a huge deal to me.   If I take a moment to self-analyze I think it’s because I hate the laundry folding process so much already, that there’s virtually no way to make it worse for me.  Inside out – Or right-side-out  folding… they both pretty much suck!  So, while I may grumble under my breath as I flip t-shirts to be right-side-out… I’m grumbling because I’m folding laundry… not because 50% of the load is inside out.

 

Which makes where I’m headed below highly humorous to me.

 

2 weeks ago hubby did a load of laundry.  WHAT??  You may be saying……  So, I’ll say it again.  Hubby did a load of laundry.   Trust me when I tell you, I’m more surprised than you are.  It probably only happened because he ran out of underwear.  And, after an interesting recent conversation, about the under-wearing habits of most men… he was probably guilted into doing a load.

 

Anyhow… after he folded his basket of laundry he decides to take a dig at me.. or, perhaps from his point of view, he decides to “point something out to me”.

 

Hubby: “Hey hon, do you know that a ton of your shirts were inside out”

Me:  “Uhhh… hmmmm..”

Hubby:  “I just wanted to let you know….”

Me:  “You did….. Huh?”

Hubby:  “Yes.  You know, it makes this task even worse when I have to right-side-out every t-shirt”

Me:  “It does, does it?”  trying to wrack my brain for the last time he did any laundry

Hubby:  “Yes.  Maybe you could take them off right-side-out before you put them into the basket?”

Me:  wondering the last time he even put clothes ‘in the basket’ “You know, most of your t-shirts are usually inside out”

Hubby:  “No they’re not”

Me:   “Hon, I hate to break this to you but you’re mistaken… almost all of your shirts are inside out”

Hubby:  “I’m positive that you’re wrong.   I’ve always been good at taking them off right-side-out.. because my Mom had a rule growing up that if you didn’t she would fold them inside out”

Me:  “ Really…. All your life you’ve been good at making sure they’re not inside out.”

Hubby: “Yep.”

 

And I just let this conversation die… in the midst of the inaccuracies in which it was becoming increasingly buried.

 

Last weekend things were “back to normal” and I did laundry.

 

As I folded the laundry, I counted the total # of hubby’s shirts…. There were 17 in total.

 

Hubby came inside from doing some yard work.

 

Me:  “Hey babe… I would never normally do this but……”

Hubby:  “Yeah?”

Me:  “Remember last week when you so graciously pointed out that I didn’t right-side-out my t-shirts?”

Hubby:  “Yes?”

Me: “Remember how you so matter-of-factly told me that you never put inside out t-shirts into the hamper?”

Hubby:  “Yep!”

Me:  “Well, I did laundry today”

Hubby “Ok….”

Me:  “And again, I would never be pointing this out if you hadn’t opened the door to this conversation……”

Hubby:  blank stare

Me:  “Well, I counted your t-shirts… there were 17 of them.”

Hubby:  “Ok”

Me:  “Do you want to know how many were inside out?”

Hubby: “I’m not sure….. Do I?”

Me: “You do.  It was TWELVE of them”

Hubby:  silence………………………..

Me: “I just feel the need to remind you again….. I have done 16,928 loads of your laundry (give or take).  And, I’ve never complained about having to right-side-out your shirts”

Hubby:  more silence……………

Hubby: “ I’m sorry.  I will try to be better”

Me:  “I honestly don’t care…. But I’m sure your Mom would be very disappointed in you.”

Hubby:  “Hmmmmmm”

 

And there you have it my dear readers……………….I will let you know how the next load of laundry goes!

 

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I hate to admit this to you all but I watched an episode of Celebrity Wife Swap this week.  Now, the mere use of the word “celebrity” is probably a stretch given who appears on that show.  And, this probably helps solidify hubby’s position that reality tv is rotting my brain but.. either way, the damage is done.  I watched it.  I cannot undo it.  I lost an hour of my life into a dark abyss of mind-numbing morons.  And, I’m no better… and quite possibly more stupid for having done it.  But oh well…..we all do things we regret!

 

Anyhow, this particular episode featured the Speidi couple.  Spencer Pratt and Heidi what’s her name… from that show that whatchamacallit show, that many people watched but I have no interest or knowledge of (pretty sure it’s called The Hills).  Needless to say, I’m unsure how these nobody’s could be known as “celebrities” because of this show.  But, I suppose it if can happen to somebody named Snookie… this isn’t a far stretch.

 

What struck me as absurd, was this bozo Spencer’s inability to behave like an adult.  Now, I’ve often referred to my own dear hubby as a child.. but this Spencer moron takes it to a whole new level.  His equally vapid wife desperately wants to have children and I got the impression he wouldn’t give up his self-indulgent, extra hour of sleep to tend to his wife’s severed limb much less a crying infant.    If I had ever married this kid (which I wouldn’t) I’d have to smother him during his blissful nap on the lounge chair.

 

So, it got me thinking about men taking that giant leap into adulthood.  Some men go willingly and welcome adult responsibilities – they hum happy songs as they mow the lawn, they make their own “honey do” lists with household projects, they learn all the settings on both the dishwasher and clothes washer. Some men get dragged (or rather nudged) along, kicking and screaming the entire way as they are pushed out of Mommy’s house into their own place so she can finally have an empty nest.. but they return home every weekend with a bag of laundry, they open mom’s cupboards and fridge and pack to-go bags of food, and they even cling desperately to a life with no commitments.  But, the vast majority of men, step into adulthood very slowly, by dipping one toe into the water with a solo trip to the grocery store… then, if all goes well, they may try to vacuum, perhaps an attempt at a pasta dinner, followed possibly by a made bed (WITH all the extra pillows!) and then maybe, just maybe – if they are feeling extra confident… a load of gentle cycle laundry (this one takes a lot of trust ladies!).

 

Before you know it… your husband has become an adult.  Ok wait… I took it too far.  Your husband is on his way to becoming an adult.  We all know that this is a long term project!

 

So… here are just a few ways you know your husband is “growing up”

 

  • He not only takes a trip to the grocery store but he actually looks around the house and in the fridge to create a shopping list. Not long ago hubby wouldn’t have even considered bringing a list to the store but after 10 years of marital training he did just that this past week…. I’m such a proud wife!
  • He returns from his Saturday morning outdoor chores and stands in the house admiring his own lawn. While the lawn itself may not dictate when it needs to be mowed (even though a normal person might disagree)… hubby does , in fact, set aside an official “lawn mowing day” each week and he (generally) sticks to this schedule for the entire summer. A scheduled, recurring, chore is a BIG step towards adulthood!
  • He runs out of undies and decides to do a load of laundry (all on his own!).  I’ll admit this one is still a work in progress… since only recently did I realize the underlying male struggle with understanding the need to wear clean undershorts each and every day. Hubby has, albeit on the rarest of occasions, popped in a load of laundry because he’s run out of something.
  • He, unprompted, puts sunscreen AND a sun hat on your baby/toddler. I know this goes against every fiber of his being to somehow be this domesticated.. but, he recognizes the importance and takes action to protect someone incredibly dear to him!
  • He actually hears the baby crying when it’s “HIS” night, without needing you to nudge him. This is likely never going to apply when it’s YOUR night (and he is obviously deaf).. but always remember this foray into adulthood comes in the form of baby steps……. And this is a BIG step – a BIG kid, taking care of a little kid!
  • He actually notices AND stops to pick up something dropped on your kitchen floor. Once your hubby is able to direct his Selective Vision towards things that actually need attention you’ll know he’s growing up!

 

 

I’m sure there are others and your list may indeed be longer than mine!  Some of the indicators I mentioned above may not actually be perfected in our home.    But as I mentioned before, it’s a long term project.  It’s a marathon, not a sprint.  And, it’s the path I have chosen… each day, my hubby grows up a teeny, tiny, bit.  Someday, hopefully before my son starts catching up to him, he will firmly step into adulthood and then we can begin to hone some of the skills he’s acquired to start coaching our son –so his wife-to-be will not have nearly as much work as I did!!

 

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Last year I was on a mission.  A mission to find a cool gift for hubby.  A mission to give him a gift that he would tell his friends about.  A mission to buy something that stood out.  While he may have a variety of hobbies, some of which fall pretty far down on my “approval” list (things like his motorcycle –which I despise.  Or his video game interest – which I don’t understand.  Or his obsession with new tvs – which I can’t support for fear we’d have a new tv every 6 months!).  It’s not always easy to find him a gift that he will like, that is unique, and that has some sort of longer term appeal – you know, something beyond an enormous box of cookies (although – I did give him a Cookie of the Month subscription once – which I *think* went over well??).

 

So, as I scoured the internet and asked around, I found myself… like usual…. coming up with nothing.

 

Then one day I was feeding my reality tv addiction.  An addiction that hubby despises (probably as much as I despise his motorcycle!).

 

“Why do you watch this crap?” he asks.

“Because sometimes it’s awesome, mindless entertainment!”  I happily reply.

“But, you have it on all the time….  Who can possibly watch this many house buying/renovating shows?  Who cares about these moronic celeb wannabes, or the failing bar/restaurant, or the cupcake baking, or Donald Trump’s ridiculousness, or the.. – fill in just about any blank- ?”

“Lots of people do.  That’s why there’s so much of this crap on tv!”  I solidly state my case.

“But you’re a smart, successful woman.  How can you possibly be interested in this nonsense??” as he worries about my brain becoming mush – he’s such a caring guy!!

“But see, that’s why I watch it.  I’m under so much pressure all day at work AND I have to actually use my brain all day.  When I watch this garbage – there’s no brain necessary!!”

“But, it’s rotting the brain you have.”  Again, such concern for me (see why I love him??)

“I suppose that might be true – But, even you watch it sometimes!”  touché hubby. touché.

“I only watch it because you have it on….”

“Not true” I snarkily reply

“Ok, tell me what I watch… if you’re so certain.”

Shark Tank

Silence…….

Gotcha!

 

So hubby has to admit.  Even if it’s by silence, that he does, in fact, watch (and enjoy) Shark Tank.

 

mission beltSo, back to my original story.  I’m watching Shark Tank (wishing and praying that someday, I will come up with an idea that will be marketable and make me some moolah).  And they show this awesome product.  This seemingly nice guy has come up with a belt, called The Mission Belt – a belt without any holes…. It’s friggin genius!  You can wear the belt, like….. FOREVER.   You put on some baby weight (and I’m referring to hubby… not me!) no problem.. just loosen the belt.  You go back to the gym… no problem… just tighten the belt.   You consume too many slices of pizza & beer at dinner… no problem.  No holes, no fuss… the belt is like a magical solution to the ever-changing man belly.   It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen…. And BAM!  I’m like, that’s it!!  Awesome gift for hubby!

 

So, I run to the internet and buy a belt… (actually I buy 2 belts – one for casual wear and one for dressier occasions – in the dreamy (aka wishful thinking) hopes someday hubby will take me out on the town).

 

Well, I think I hit the jackpot.  Hubby tries on the belt.

 

“This is sooooo cool!” he says. 

“Wow, this is awesome!” he says.

“This is the smartest idea I’ve ever seen” he says.

“I will never wear another belt” he says.

 

And then……

 

“Why did you buy 2 versions?  I’ll never take this one off.. no need for 2”   And poof, in half a second he crushes all my dreams of a dressy date night.

 

Ahhhh well, such is the life I live!  My next Mission….. if I chose to accept it, is to get him all dolled up for a date.  The good news is that since the belt is so versatile, I can make it small enough to fit around my own waist and maybe, just maybe, if I dance around in only a belt, I can convince him to put it on himself and take me out??   I’ll have to let you know if this mission is successful (only – I probably won’t blog about that …..so don’t expect a full report!)

 

So, the long story short is.  These belts are awesome.  We have since purchased one as a gift for almost every male family member.  Hubby still loves his and, while he still despises my penchant for reality tv, he can admit (albeit in a whisper and behind closed doors) that sometime, just sometimes, there’s some good to be had from my “addiction” and *gasp* reality tv

 

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Any good dad realizes he plays a significant role in a child’s life.  Whether it be teaching life lessons….. like when cursing is appropriate while driving.  Or, the importance of treating others kindly…..  like sharing some of your Twizzlers, but never the last one. Or, how to make smart decisions….. like only trying to “ride” the dog when there is some sort of adult supervision.  But perhaps some of the most important lessons come by way of every day interactions with Dad.  These are the moments that shape a little one into the person they will become in the future.

 

So, I’d like to take a moment to focus on some of these interactions.  My son, who is only 21 months is already a little mini version of my hubby.   He idolizes Dada, the way a little boy should and he mimics everything he does – including the things we wish (OK- maybe I wish) he wouldn’t.  I suppose this is where my thoughts and hubby’s thoughts become divergent.   As any man with a son knows, whether he admits it to you or not, watching your little one do everything he can to be like his Dad is a tremendous ego boost and a very proud moment for every Dad.  Even when some of the mimicry looks like this:

 

Intense Food Discrimination:  When I first met my dear husband he ate probably 5 things:  Hamburgers, Hot Dogs, Pizza, Pasta and maybe an occasional piece of chicken.   My miniature version of hubby has a phenomenal knack to refuse just about anything I put in front of him (must make hubby so proud!).  If he could, he’d simply eat yogurt all-day, every-day.  Do you want pasta with meatballs?… “No, Gogurt”.  Do you want chicken nuggets “Hmmm.. Gogurt”.  How about grilled cheese for lunch “NOOOO.  Gogurt”.  You get the picture.  The more time I spent with hubby, the more he opened up his food repertoire but this took almost 10 years and I just can’t wait that long with our son!!

 

Footwear Rebellion: Let’s just say that hubby’s wardrobe is…… limitedHe’s a jeans, t-shirt and sneakers kinda guy.  Luckily (for him!) he works in an office environment where this style is perfectly acceptable.  It’s not however, lucky for me when my mini-hubby only wants to dress like Dada.  I love his Dada.. but, I’d also love some khaki’s, maybe a cool button down and god forbid a pair of hip sandals.  YIKES!  You’d think I asked him to sport a pink tutu and a pair of heels!  Well, our little guy is already following in these sneaker covered footsteps.  He has one pair of shoes he will wear, and ALL other options result in a complete meltdown.  A meltdown that I can’t help think makes hubby inwardly smile as he proudly watches his son resist my attempts to make him look different from his Dada.

 

Utensil/Cup Selection:  I once wrote a post (HERE) about hubby’s need to use the “appropriate bowl” for the “appropriate foods”.  I suppose this could be classified as OCD.  Or perhaps, it’s more aligned with the desire to be difficult (this one gets my vote!).  Or perhaps it’s just a silent, but very powerful, training method for raising a mini version of himself.   It’s amazing how similar our son can be when I try to give him milk in his “water cup” or I grab the blue fork for dinner when it’s completely obvious that the appropriate fork for this dinner is the white one.  Hubby’s response… “well, why would you try to put milk into a water cup?”

 

The Ham Switch:  For all of hubby’s annoying qualities, he can be quite cute and charming (this is obviously why I put up with him……)  I learned some time ago that he likes to “perform” and can turn on his charm and charisma just as quickly as he can turn it off.   It’s like a light switch of manipulation – one I affectionately call his “ham switch”.  One minute he’s cranky and grouchy…. The next he’s all nice, smiley and dare I say adorable… and “hamming it up”?  Well, it’s sort of like having a toddler and watching the absurd range of emotions that can all happen within about a 90 second window.    The rolling on the floor temper tantrum that occurs when you won’t give them the knife off the counter (that they must have NOW).  That’s quickly followed by silence and happy head nodding as you offer a cookie in place of the knife. Immediately followed by a sweet smile as they peek around the corner to catch your eye and the giggle that follows as you play peek-a-boo behind the cookie.  And then, the switch flips again as you mention that one cookie was enough and that giggling, adorable little guy drops to the floor and writhes in a screaming fit because you’re obviously the meanest mom ever.   Yep, our little one has fine tuned the ham switch of manipulation at 21 months…. Well done Dada. Well done.

 

So, with all these wonderful lessons being learned every day.  I can’t help but think that hubby just loves the role he plays as a Dad.  He imparts wonderful tidbits of learning and coaching, he molds a young and impressionable mind and he proudly looks into a miniature mirror every time our son demonstrates something he’s learned from his dad.    OR…. I’ve actually just proven that I live with TWO toddlers and the reason they are so alike is because men take so long to mature that, at the age of 39, I’m still waiting for hubby to take his next mental leap into adulthood.  (Where’s that chapter of The Wonder Weeks??)

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Hubby is a smart man.  A caring man.  A compassionate man (unless of course you’re driving below the speed limit and making him late for work).  He is a good dad.  An involved dad.  A dumb dad.

 

Wait……. Did I say dumb?  I guess when you type free-flowing thoughts, sometimes your fingers get ahead of your brain…. OR, sometimes your fingers type the truth –even though your brain is saying geez… that was mean.    Your fingers… as they type (and apparently talk) say “shush brain…. I type truths….. You may not always like how they come out but the truth shall set you free…. (or at least make people laugh in an entertaining blog post).

 

So, perhaps I should explain why he’s a dumb dad.   It couldn’t be the fact that he watches bloody war movies while our 21 month old plays with his train in the family room in front of the tv.  It couldn’t be that he occasionally slips a naughty word into conversations while the mini-version of himself is within ear shot.  It’s definitely not because he lets our son eat graham crackers on the couch and then NEVER cleans up the crumbs (heck – he himself does this regularly!).  No, it’s none of these reasons.  These things are silly oops moments where hubby’s not necessarily being dumb.. he’s just being forgetful or oblivious or perhaps just being….. A Man.

 

The dumbness can best be illustrated by this past week.

 

We (and by we – I mean poor little mini-hubby) were lucky enough to contract Coxsackie this week.  If this specific word means nothing to you…. You may perhaps know this toddler illness better as Hand, Foot & Mouth disease (or if you’re a bit older you may know it simply as Hoof & Mouth disease  -which, I’m sorry – is just a horrible way to refer to a virus).  In case no one remembers what this looks like.. I’ll give you a few highlights.

 

High Fevers – Also known as 48+ hours of no sleep for Mom & Dad.  As your poor little one tosses and turns and whines and cries and you can’t do anything at all to make it better but hold him, cuddle him and pray for the sun to rise.

 

Sore Throat – This is a tough one because you don’t immediately realize what’s wrong – and you debate with each other about which tooth is causing such horrible pain as your toddler refuses to even eat yogurt.  You surmise (mistakenly) that the mere chunks of fruit in the yogurt are painful to chew… until you realize that he won’t eat anything at all, no matter how soft it is.  Add to this random outbursts of crying which makes you wonder what the heck could possibly be wrong – and if it would be horribly inappropriate to just buy some ear plugs!?

 

No Appetite – Mini-hubby can usually be bribed with yogurt to do just about anything.  But now he not only won’t eat yogurt but, no applesauce and not even ice cream.  You wrack your brain to try to come up with something that’s softer than ice cream (btw.. the answer is nothing……………)

 

Sores in the mouth/throat – You finally get a Dr diagnosis because he has that special knack of getting your toddler to let him look into his mouth – you know the knack of “let me shove this tongue depressor into your mouth no matter how much you scream or writhe (“Hey, Mom – can you please hold his arms so I can get a better look?”).  It’s a knack most parents are lacking as I have yet to even master the “let me get this toothbrush far enough into your mouth so I can brush your molars”  or the “sit still and let mommy see if you have a new tooth coming in” without getting bit or into a wrestling match with a new species better known as squirmy, tight mouthed, non-cooperative toddler.

 

Blistery, Red Rash (normally on hands & feet)  – Oddly enough, though this seems to be the driving force behind the non-scientific name of this virus.  You may, or may not ever see this rash.  We did, in fact see it, 3 days after the fever and on his knees.  Maybe I should rename the virus as Knobby Knee, Throat virus (which  honestly still sounds way better than Hoof & Mouth).

 

Now that you know the virus, the symptoms and the fun-filled week we’ve had, here’s the crux of my post.  This is VERY contagious.   I’ll say it again…. VERY contagious.   Hubby knew how contagious this is because he’s a Googler.  You know the type.  He must Google Every. Single. Thing. that we experience with our little guy.  Sometimes this is great and we are WAY informed… sometimes it’s awful because, as you may remember, hubby is an awfulizer and mini-hubby’s normal low-grade illness will sometimes be overblown into a non-existent problem beyond your wildest dreams.  Ahhhhhh…. Such is the life I lead……………..

 

Anyhow.. it’s contagious.  Oh, wait I said that.  And hubby knew that.  So tell me why……………..

 

  • He wanted to finish mini-hubby’s uneaten cup of ice cream (with mini-hubby’s spoon). And when I asked him “Why???” He responded.. “well, should I just use a different spoon?”
  • He ate the half gnawed on pieces of leftover graham crackers from mini-hubby’s dish?
  • He binky shared with mini-hubby (which is not abnormal –during illness free times) as he played a cute game with our sick little one to make him smile
  • He took the toy trumpet from our little guy and put it from mini-hubby’s mouth directly into his own, as he tooted the tune of “Mary Had a Little Lamb”

 

All the while…. I’m washing my hands 500xs a day.   Using hand sanitizer in between hand washing.  Spraying Clorox on every surface.  And, washing and re-washing binkies like there’s no tomorrow.

 

I’m happy to say… mini-hubby is on the mend.  He’s even back at school today.

 

Hubby… well, he’s in bed right now with a raging fever, shivering, moaning and whining about how awful he feels.

 

DUMB?   I don’t know, I’ll let you be the judge.

 

(and, as I type this…. I do realize that the timing is almost perfect for me to come down with this illness just in time for the weekend………………so I just may eat my words  – but it did make for a good post today!)  :-)

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