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Archive for the ‘Marriage Truths’ Category

Many years ago I posted about some of the unintended consequences of marriage.  I wrote about all the unexpected responsibilities bestowed upon the wife as she (oftentimes) becomes the administrative assistant for hubby;  his chef, his housekeeper, and his personal shopper.  Getting married, from the male side, is a pretty dang good deal.  Because even in marriages where life is “split” evenly, it seems the wife may somehow take on more of these particular tasks as she earns a whole new job description.  It’s a slow process, like with most jobs… extra duties just creep up on you.

When you accept the ring after that romantic proposal, you read the posted job overview and negotiate your best deal with the hubby-to-be.  Then as the years go by, and your world begins to demand more and more with less and less time, you take on a few more tasks.  Then as other employees go on strike –or hubby forgets where the hamper is or burns his last grilled cheese….. you take on a few more tasks.  Before you know it your responsibilities have doubled – you add kids, pets, after-school activities, a bigger house.. and you take on even more tasks.  Then, years later, you wake up one morning and realize you’ve been getting the standard 2% cost of living increase via an extra back rub here and there, or maybe a sparkly piece of jewelry on occasion, and you begin to recognize that you are now doing the job of 3 people.  You are putting in extra hours, doing things you never said you’d do like darning socks (do people do this anymore??) and sending Christmas cards to your hubby’s crazy Aunt Barbara – who you only met once at your wedding….. and, you stop.  You step back.  You wonder… how did I get here?

 

You think back…… “Hmmmm… I don’t remember the job description mentioning anything about buying new undies for hubby or making sure he changes them every day.”  You sigh “ I don’t recall signing any agreements that said I would be the gift buyer for any and all holidays/birthdays/anniversaries of everyone we know.”  But here you are.  This is your *new* job.  You celebrate the fact that you still have a job.  Many other people you know have been downsized and are no longer “working”.  You still love your job.  You work hard and there are still quite a few perks.  And then you realize, that while your job may have changed,  you’re still your own boss (well – some days………… ) and the daily grind is still rewarding.  And, ultimately, you still love what you do… even though you’re now the designated booger wiper, boo boo kisser, cleaning fairy, buyer of TP and finder of lost things  - even though, these are all things that hubby can do for himself!! J  (and just for the record these all apply LONG before you ever have any kids!!)

 

So, it’s probably no surprise when I use the above info as a “warning” for all new brides-to-be.   This is just a glimpse into your future.  You may not think so.. you may say… “nope, not me”.   And, at the beginning, you may actually fight the good fight…. and, you may actually win on some occasions.  Or, you may be one of the lucky few who marries an award winning grilled cheese maker.  Or maybe you hit the jackpot and you have a man who just loves to do laundry (do these exist??).  But I can assure you that there will be tasks that you take on without even realizing it.  Because eventually, you will realize you need to pick your battles.  And you will discover that the definition of marriage, is learning how long you’re willing to wait to have a heavy item removed from your kitchen or recognizing how many days can pass before you give up and move the empty soda can from the counter into the trash.   Because remember, nobody ever looked at a married man who is dressed in wrinkled clothes, holey black jeans, white socks and a flannel shirt and said…. “Oh boy, he looks awful”.   Instead they say….. “How could his wife let him out of the house like that??!!”… and *poof* you have instantly become his personal shopper and wardrobe consultant… just one more of your job duties!

 

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It’s been a whirlwind couple of months at the THD household.

 

We kicked off November with ear tube surgery for mini hubby.    This was necessitated by about 14 million ear infections since we started day care (ok, maybe not 14 million – he was after all, only a year old.  But, let’s just say one little munchkin shouldn’t have been on as many consecutive doses of antibiotics as our little guy was).  About 2 weeks after surgery, mini hubby was toddling along, and as new walkers tend to do… he toppled right over……… fracturing his little mini wrist.  Have you ever seen an x ray of a of a tiny little hand.  It’s like a freaky, mysterious picture with tiny floating little bones…. It’s just NUTS!

Xray Nov 2013 (2)

None of this stopped him.  He still laughed, and giggled and toddled around the house like he was a skilled tight rope walker (minus the tiny balancing line and plus a whole new dimension to balancing with his itty bitty little cast).     Hubby could learn a lot from the little guy.  He’s tough as nails and none of this phased him.  No awfulizing.  No grumbling.  No complaining.

 

Then Thanksgiving week came and mini hubby brought home the plague from day care…. And, it wiped out the entire family.   I think it was Rotavirus. And, if you’ve never experienced lovely ailment… I’ll say a little prayer that you never do.   Hubby and I spent all night with dueling bathrooms as we raced past each other to vomit and twist ourselves into a pretzel as we agonized with the worst abdominal pain ever.  A few days earlier,  mini hubby had vomited a bit, cried a bit and then toddled around the house throwing blocks and racing cars.  Man, he’s a trooper… and he recovered quite nicely as his dad and I prayed for death for a full 24 hours as we dealt with this doozy of an illness.

 

You may recall how hubby deals with sickness (if you forgot you can get a refresher HERE).  For me, it was simply wonderful.  There’s just nothing better than throwing up all night and then getting out of bed the next day to care for your toddler and your sick husband…. All the while, wondering how you could possibly vomit more when you haven’t eaten anything for hours upon hours.  This lovely day ended with a trip to the ER to treat hubby for dehydration.  Yes folks, it’s been a fun holiday season.

 

So we are definitely in need of some Christmas magic… BUT, we are getting there….. S L O W L Y……

I have revived the Hubby Diaries version of “A Very Married Christmas”… if you’ve missed it (or would just a reminder chuckle – click HERE or on the image below!)

Christas Poem 2013

 

Now if only the Christmas magic would wrap my presents AND bake my cookies AND clean my house AND finish my laundry AND.. AND… AND……

 

HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!   Hope your holiday season has been less dramatic and more pleasant than ours so far……………………………….

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I knew it… I knew it… I knew it.

 

I just knew that one day there would be an article, or a study that would help hubby argue his case against me.   I mistakenly stumbled on one when hubby was suspiciously sleeping through our screaming baby at night and claimed it was because he “didn’t hear him” (if you didn’t read that one just click HERE) and I knew it was only a matter of time before he could take to Google to find some obscure report that he could wave defiantly in my face as he danced around me singing… I told you so… I told you so…

 

And so folks, today (or well, more accurately last week) was that day.

 

Please let me explain.

 

If you’ve been reading for any length of time, you may know that cookies have somehow played an oddly, ever-present, role in our relationship.

 

You could start with the fact that when we began dating I referred to hubby as my “cookie”… and some of you may even remember one of my first blog posts that seemed to stir up a quite an internet debate from a few naysayers, about what a shitty person I am.  When we debated the cookie vs cracker monikers that I bestowed upon my boyfriends.  (You can read this one HERE).

 

Then, there was the story of how cupid “shot an arrow through hubby’s stomach” as I baked him fresh chocolate chip cookies shortly after we met.

 

A while back hubby celebrated the day that DiGiorno added cookies to their pizza boxes….. as he happily declared “They’ve combined 2 of the best things in the world!”

 

You may recall a blog post where hubby, with utter abandonment, consumed every-single cookie in our cupboard as our snack battle escalated.

 

And then, there was the time where he demonstrated his true love for me by leaving one solitary cookie in the box, just so it would be there for me to eat (or for me to throw away the box – even today, months and months later, I’m still not sure which).

 

And lastly, not all that long ago… I shared a story about the 900 lb box of Oreo cookies hubby just had-to-have at Costco.  Only to realize that the Costco version of Oreo’s are not, in fact, the double stuffed Oreos… and that regular Oreo’s do not, shockingly, have……. enough Stuff.

 

So this pretty much brings me to last week.  Where somebody, somewhere, who obviously wants to torture me, or perhaps test the fiber of my marriage…… put out a study showing that Oreos are actually just as addictive as ……………ready for this (in case you live in a cave and missed it last week) ……………..COCAINE!  (to read the full article click HERE or on the picture below)

 Oreo Article

Yes folks, the fantastic research analysts, just gave hubby the support info he needs to never, ever, save me another cookie for the rest of my life.  Since he has a study to prove that he can’t possibly help himself…. He… Must. Eat. Every. Cookie. In. The Box.   And, he will forever have evidence to throw at me to illustrate how it just couldn’t possibly be his fault that I get none.

 

Thank you research scientists.  Thank you makers of Oreos.   Thank you ever-so-much for giving hubby permission to say… “Sorry honey, the drugs made me do it”

 

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Ever since we added a mini hubby to our lives last year, my days have all blended together.  My free time is no longer free and my blogging time has dwindled down to almost nothing.  Every. Single. Day.  I wish my job would stop bleeding over to my personal life, so I actually have time to do the things I enjoy (like write this blog).  But alas, work doesn’t care about my passions… they care about my productivity.  The baby also doesn’t really care about my passions… he cares about being fed and changed and creating a mini tornado of toys in my home.

 

So, no one cares about the blog but me.  And I have no time for me.  So here we are:  Stalemate.   Sad but true and I miss blogging every day.  Maybe, if anyone out there still reads the blog… you miss me too.  I miss you… and ME.   Hmmmmm….. what a downer I am!

 

Anyhow, I couldn’t let this week pass without finding some time to share a post…… BECAUSE….. THIS IS ANNIVERSARY WEEK at my house.  And, it’s a big one.

Hubby and I have been married 10 years this week.   WOW.  10 years.  I can’t believe it so I’ll write it again.  10 years.

 

10 years of crumbs.

10 years of stepping over stuff on the stairs.10th anniversary

10 years of repeating myself over and over and over.

10 years of debates over new electronics.

10 years of enough food quirks to fill an entire book.

10 years of holding hands.

10 years of zaniness and absurdity.

10 years of laughter & love.

 

In the past I’ve shared some Top 10 Lists with you.

 

10 Reasons I Love My Hubby (looking back – this was on our 7th anniversary!)

10 Things I’m Thankful For

10 things I would do if it was the last day of the world (ok, it was really 8 things… because heck, you shouldn’t overburden yourself if the world is ending!)

 

And today, I’m about to share another list.

 

10 Reasons That 10 Years is Just The Beginning

 

  1. It could take a lifetime to properly “train” my hubby.  Either hubby is a particularly obstinate case or I have won the jackpot.  [If my father-in-law is any indication, I have many, many, many (yes FIL – that’s THREE many’s!) more years ahead of me to help hubby be “the best he can be”…. Sorry mother-in-law.  I feel your pain!]
  2. I have only repeated myself self 14,687 times.   And, I can easily say the same thing 89,973 more times…. So I’m nowhere near capacity on asking hubby to wipe crumbs from the counters.
  3. Technology improves quicker than I can blink and hubby NEEDS me so he’s not hypnotized by all the magical promises made by those devils at Sony & Samsung that would entice him to buy a new TV Every. Single. Year.
  4. Without me, hubby wouldn’t eat pickles or pork or seafood or sushi.  It may take me 30 more years but Dang It… I’m not giving up until he’ll eat an ear of corn or a bbq spare rib!
  5. Fairies DO NOT exist.  And, if I wasn’t around, hubby may have to face the reality that the fairies wouldn’t clean up after him, do his laundry or cook his food… YIKES!
  6. There’s a lot more blog to write…. plus, I don’t have a book contract or a TV show yet based on hubby’s absurd behavior.  So, I will wait patiently.
  7. This is only our first year with mini-hubby, and it will take many more years for hubby to realize that all his qualities that make this blog funny, have been passed on to his son… and ya know what? Watching him, watch his son, repeat his behaviors, will in many cases be poetic justice  ;-)
  8. I like eating cookies…. And as long as he’ll always leave me one (even if this is only to not have to throw away the empty package) I know we’re a good pair for the long haul
  9. He always keeps me on my toes.  Even if I happen to be on my toes so I don’t hurt myself skirting stuff left on the stairs or maneuvering around crap left in the kitchen.
  10. Through the good times and the bad.  Through the tears and the smiles.  Through the laughter and the silliness.  There is no one else who I’d want by my side.

Happy Anniversary Baby…

Still holding hands as we walk together towards the future!  LOVE YOU!

 anniversay-date-humor

 

 

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If you’ve ever had a sensation, any sensation, then this story might just irritate you as much as it did me.  Because, contrary to many beliefs (most of which come from hubby), not all sensations are good sensations and what may be a good sensation to one person may not necessarily be a good sensation to another.  And no, regardless of where your mind just went… this is not at all about S E X.

 

So, please let me explain.

 

Sometimes I like to make impulse purchases.  You know, the kind when you’re shopping and randomly come upon something  that you didn’t think you needed, but now that it’s staring you straight in the face, beckoning you, you decide now is the time to buy.

 

I’ve wound up with random household décor items this way.   I’ve found a new home for a pair of sunglasses that seemed to jump out at me as I was on my way to buy cleaning supplies.  Just last week, I came home with new bath towels.  Not because I needed bath towels but because they were there.  I was there.  They were on sale.  I was there.  I imagined them in my bathroom and then *poof* they were magically in my hands.

 

Sometimes hubby benefits from this wonderful trait.  He’s come upon a new bathing suit, some shorts and even box of cookies all because of my fine-tuned, impulse buying abilities.

 

And sometimes, he benefits in a very unintended way.

 

I was grocery shopping recently.  You know, a task that I cannot send hubby to do because sending him to the grocery store actually creates more work for me (In case you didn’t read about the last time he tried to grocery shop please go HERE.  Go ahead, I’ll wait.)  As I was checking out, staring at that at the rack filled with impulse items, I had a weak moment and I bought myself a treat.  One of the best kinds of treats.  Better than towels.  Better than a candle holder.  It was one of those items where you tell yourself, I’ve had a hard day, I’ve earned this.  A treat of the edible, chocolate variety.  I bought myself a Kit Kat and a York Peppermint Pattie.

 

I tossed these treats into my purse as I loaded my cart with bags of groceries.  Then I got in the car, likely side tracked by God only knows what (since my brain doesn’t work anymore since I had the baby) and I forgot I had rewarded myself with these delectable bits of heaven.

 

The next day I’m getting ready for work and I spot the treats peaking at me from my purse.  So, I take them out and gingerly place them on the counter… right in the spot where my purse always sits.. to await my return.  Now, if I’d been hubby I would likely have stuffed these babies into my mouth right then & there.  Never mind that it was 7:00am or that I had just brushed my teeth.  He would have stood there wiping his mouth as bits of chocolate dropped onto the floor & counter only to be discovered (and cleaned) by a not so happy wife later.  But I digress.  I am not hubby and I wanted to leave them so I could savor them at the appropriate moment in the future.

 

So…. Imagine my surprise later, when I return to the spot where I stowed away my treats, only to….  W  A  I  T…… where are my treats??  I see the Kit Kat BUT, the Peppermint Pattie is gone.  Is it under these papers.. NO?!  Has it fallen to the floor…… NOPE!?  Uhm, did the fairies take it????  WTH.  I want my Peppermint Patty NOW and it’s gone.

 

I yell across the house… “Hey hon,  I had a Peppermint Patty here on the counter… did you see it?”

And from a distance I hear…. “Uhm, yeah, I saw it”

 

And that’s when the sensation starts….. a sensation that something is not right.  A sensation that something is amiss.  A sensation that I somehow, some way, got screwed out of enjoying MY Peppermint Patty.

 

 

And then, I’d like to say sheepishly, but it was probably more like - sheepishly proud of himself, hubby comes over.  And you know what he says?????????

Swiss Alps15

 

“I saw the Peppermint Patty.  I saw it on the counter.  I saw it unwrap.  I saw it enter my mouth.  And, then I had the sensation of the skiing in the Swiss Alps with a cool fresh breeze blowing in my face.  And, you know what….” He says…….  “ It was AWESOME”.

 

 

And then, he got to enjoy the sensation of me punching him square in the jaw.

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Well,  we started day care.

 

For those of you who have lived through this traumatic experience, this statement alone probably either brings back horrible memories or perhaps it brings back nothing – because you’ve blocked out just how bad it was…  on you, your baby and your sanity.

 

We started 3 weeks ago.  And, in 3 weeks, we’ve had a baby with 3 separate illnesses all accompanied by a significant fever.. some of which have lasted 5 days.  Which means that after 3 weeks of day care, we’ve only been IN day care for probably a total of 8 days or so.  Seems like some sort of scam since we pay for 5 days a week… and we continually need to keep him home.  We’ve made approximately 5 visits to the Dr and 1 trip to the emergency room.  If you are wondering… yes, it’s been an incredibly FUN 3 weeks.

 

After the 3rd visit to the doctor, he said to me.  “Oh, you started day care….. you’ll probably spend more time here at our office than you do at work and then you’ll start to wonder why you ever went back to work!”.  Gee, thanks for the reassurance doc!   So I asked, “Well, how long will it be this bad?”  To which he replied, “Oh, he’ll probably be sick for at least a year or so.  BUT, (his attempt at making me feel better as he sees look of utter anguish on my face) once he starts school, you will never need to come here!!!”

 

Wonderful.   A year of a sick toddler.. and an even longer year of a hubby who has to deal with a sick toddler.   It’s gonna be a doozy of a year.

 

Let me tell you a few things that happen when you have a sick baby.

 

#1.  You have a very cranky baby

#2.  You have a very cranky hubby

#3.  You do not get very much sleep

#4.  You have an even crankier hubby

#5.  There’s a lot of fussiness

#6.  You wonder who is fussier, the baby or the hubby

#7.  There’s a lot of crying

#8.  (The baby cries a lot too…..)

#9.  There’s a lot of boogers, and medicine and uncontainable poop

#10. There’s not enough cuddling, or rocking, or singing that can make the baby OR the hubby any less miserable

 

Then, as if all of the above is not bad enough, the Swedes had to go an invent quite possibly the most disgusting device ever known to man.  If you have infants, you may have heard of this device.  We were steadfastly against using it.  It’s just plain gross.  We were hold-outs for many, many months.  We wiped boogers all day long, and bought every imaginable bulb syringe to suck out as much snot as possible and we insisted we’d never, ever subject ourselves to such a revolting, loathsome activity. And then, mini hubby was on his 2nd week of illness and the boogers were taking over.  You could tell he couldn’t breath and he was starting to refuse bottles…..so, we caved and bought (read this in the most ominous voice possible)  The Nose Frida.    If you have no idea what I’m talking about, let me give you a quick lesson.

 

NOSEFRIDA

It’s a wonderfully designed tube that attaches to an elongated nozzle that is placed into the infant’s nose.  The end of the tube is then placed in your mouth…. YES, I did say mouth.  And you use your own breath to literally SUCK boogers out of the baby’s nose….. say it with me….. Eeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

 

It’s perhaps the grossest, most effective, instrument ever created.

 

But here-in lies the problem.  I apparently don’t have the lung capacity to properly dislodge the boogers.  So, in must step hubby, to use his manly lung muscles to remove the maximum amount of boogies…. Trust me.  He LOVES this job.  No lie.  I mean, what person wouldn’t want to suck someone else’s boogers directly into their own mouth?  Ok, so maybe I’m being slightly overdramatic.  There is a filter at the end of the hose so the boogers don’t actually go into your mouth.  And, maybe I was lying slightly, when I said he loves this job.  Cause he FREAKIN’ hates it.  And, ever since day one of booger sucking he’s complained that he’s sucked all the baby’s germs right into his own system and now he feels sick himself.

 

Which is just FANTASTIC… because what more could I want that a sick baby AND a sick hubby —- FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR??????????

(anyone have a gun so I can shoot myself in the head??)

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