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I hate washing dishes…..

 

Not nearly as much as I hate washing floors, but I do harbor a pretty strong distaste for this particular chore.    And we do have a dishwasher, so it’s not like there are a ton of dishes that need hand washing but, in my opinion, even 1 pan or  1 Tupperware container is too much.    Thankfully most items make their way to the dishwasher (thank god we have one of these or I might be using disposable pot & pans)  But regardless this is a task that I despise…………….

 

Now, if they’d only make an automatic floor mopping device, we’d be in good shape…. But, I digress…………….

 

Anyhow, this particular chore aversion has always been lessened by the fact that hubby doesn’t mind doing this chore.  Now don’t misunderstand, he doesn’t like it, but he does like playing with water (like any child) and he does like to eat – and he DOESN’T like to cook – so, the natural progression was for him to take on the bulk of hand washing dishes, when necessary.  And, they lived happily ever after.

 

UNTIL

 

The baby arrived.

 

As you may know, babies are messy.  There’s more laundry than I ever imagined could come from the addition of one tiny human.   And consequently, there’s a heck of a lot more dirty items in general.  One item in particular is bottles.   It’s amazing how quickly they multiply in our sink, and if you blink too quickly, you may have 6 bottles at the end of the day…. And there they sit; all beckoning, and taunting, and giggling amongst themselves at all they work they have in store for you.

This is only 2 bottles!

This is only 2 bottles!

You see, like any clueless new parents, we wound up with bottles that have like 426 different tiny pieces that all must be assembled, in puzzle like fashion, to come together to prevent excess gas intake, or maybe it’s to improve baby IQ, or perhaps solve global warming.  Ok, I’m not really sure why there are so many dang pieces.  But what I AM sure of, is that cleaning these mother f’ers is a royal pain in my posterior region (and just for the record, these are Dr. Brown’s bottles -and they DO work, even though I’d pay millions of dollars for a full-time bottle washer).     Each tiny, individual, piece must be disassembled, washed, brushed, poked, scrubbed and violated in a way that only long tubular bottle pieces can, to ensure they are clean for our little one.   And, my friends, these puppies can’t go in the dishwasher.  I mean, sure, they can in fact go in the dishwasher but…. once you take them out of the dishwasher, you have to put them back into the sink to clean them.   Cause, with all the contraptions they sell to help make bottles dishwasher-cleanable… the only thing that really works is a bit of elbow grease, some pruny hands and about 4 hours in front of the sink.  Not to mention the day when I tried to wash them in the dishwasher and the bottles all came out with a nice orange-y, reddish hue.  Thank you Mr. Marinara sauce.

 

So, this brings me to the “meat” of my blog post.  What you just read was really just the back story.  And, you were wondering up to this point….. why the heck is she talking so much about baby bottles????  So, stay with me people.

 

As I mentioned earlier, hubby is our in-house dishwasher.  That is of course until the baby arrived – since bottle washing is so daunting – I’ve had to suck it up and wash bottles……… which, in case you were wondering, I still despise!  And, in case you missed it, I will remind you again… washing bottles SUCKS and takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r.   So hubby, in his infinite wisdom, says to me.  “Do ya think you could buy us a kitchen mat to stand on while we wash dishes for 6 hours a day?”  And being the loving wife I am, I respond “Why yes hubby, I certainly can”.  And then off I went to help give us comfy place to stand in front of the sink.    And, if I do say so myself, I found a rockin’ kitchen mat – if you can, in fact, use that sort of terminology to describe a kitchen mat.

"The best thing to ever set foot on!"

“The best thing to ever set foot on!”

This mat is cushy, cozy, comfy and maybe even kick-ass (I was going for another “c” word there – but I ran out of adjectives).  You see, the mat is made of memory foam, and when you stand on it, your feet just melt into it and are nicely cushioned to provide some otherwise not-so-present-comforts, for your tiny toes, while you stand in front of the sink and work your way through your 300th bottle part.  So, this mat sat in place for a day or so before hubby assumed the position to tackle the day’s chore.  And, when he stepped on to the mat, his toes began singing, his lower back started smiling and his mouth started saying….. “holy crap, this is the best thing I’ve ever stood on!!”  And then, in true hubby fashion, he needed to expound on his statement with some of the following:

 

“My feet have never been so happy”

“Why don’t they make shoes out of this material?”

“Every floor, everywhere, should be made of this stuff!”

“This is seriously the best thing I’ve ever felt on my feet!!”

“I’m never moving out of this spot”

 

And finally…. “ We need these mats ALL OVER the house”

 

What he doesn’t realize is that I’d NEVER put that material all over the house…….

I have him right where I want him.  In front of the sink, poised to wash bottles, and never wanting to move.   I’m not nearly as dumb as I look…………………and perhaps, with a little luck,  some incredibly comfy feet, and an equally happy hubby……….. I’ll never have to wash a bottle, ever again!  :-)

 

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In honor of a blog link up being hosted this week at The Happy Wives Club (which is all about why we love our husbands) I’m re-posting a list that I originally put on the blog after my 1 year blogiversary.   It’s funny sometimes to go back and read old posts because it very clearly shows me that with time…. nothing really changes……   LOL!  (I’ve been blogging here at THD for over 3 years now, and hubby provides me with just as much material today *perhaps more with the addition of his mini-me* as he ever did 3 years ago).

 

So, without further ado….

 

I’ve decided to note all the reasons I love my dear hubby (read as: put up with all his annoying behaviors). Because let’s be honest, if hubby didn’t have at least some redeeming qualities I would have run screaming from the house a little over 9 years ago!    This list is slightly modified from it’s original form (with some “modern day” updates!)

 

And, in true Hubby Diaries fashion… I will of course put my own spin on the reasons hubby is so awesome! So, here we go….

 

10 Reasons I Love My Hubby

 

10. I only catch him rolling his eyes at me occasionally (and this is usually when I’m singing commercial jingles or 70s songs while we’re in public)

9. He actually does know where the laundry room is when it REALLY counts…  (just wish it hadn’t taken 9 years to know this little tid bit…..)

8. He tries to keep our bedroom clean (this is of course by filling his closet & drawers with trash & crap – and, I suppose this would actually be “clean” if I never opened any of these secret hiding places)

7. He helps me practice my linguistic skills by making me repeat myself over and over and over and over………

6. Sometimes he empties the dishwasher

5. He ALWAYS leaves at least one, solitary, lonely, cookie in the box (although I’m still not sure if this is because he’s thinking of me OR because he doesn’t want to have to be the one to throw away the box)

4. He has a firm understanding of the definition of an “insane amount of poop” and yet, he will still change a diaper!

3. His food quirks provide me with endless hours of entertainment

2. He ensures that our house is always filled with the biggest, best & newest technology (No, hubby… this does not mean it’s time for a new TV!)

 

And the #1 reason why I love my hubby…..

 

1.  He puts up with the fact that I blog about every silly little thing that he does!!

 

(and, after over 3 years of blogging… he still provides me with more material than I know what to do with!!!)

 

If you’d like to visit the blog link up to find other “Why I Love My Husband” lists please visit The Happy Wives Club by clicking the image below

Why I Love My Husband

 

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This post is about poop.  So, if you don’t like stories about poop, if you’re easily grossed out or if you have a weak stomach, you may want to pass on this one.

 

Or, if you happen to be on a lunch break and have a sandwich in your hand, you may want to come back later.

 

Consider yourself warned.

 

Babies poop.  Yep.  They poop a lot.  It’s messy.  It’s smelly.  It’s gross.  And, sometimes it’s explosive.  Now, this is not necessarily new information.  For centuries new dads have been avoiding poop as much as possible.  They miraculously disappear the moment a slight odor permeates the air.  They have all of a sudden remembered that the tires need to be rotated on the car, or the lawn needs mowing or (GASP!) the laundry needs doing.   Yes, I do believe many men would rather take on the dreaded task of laundry rather than change a poopy diaper.  But this post isn’t actually about poop avoidance tactics, although I’m sure you could each share stories of your own.  This post is about hubby’s participation in poopy diapers.  And yes, I’ll repeat it for those of you who think you misread…. Hubby does, in fact, participate in poopy diapers.   And that, my friends, is where the funny  comes in.

 

Our little one has had some gastric issues. He’s on formula that causes constipation… and medicine that, well, let’s say, eases the constipation…….  All this being said he can go 48+ hours without having a bowel movement.  The poor little guy pushes and pushes for hours and never seems to get anything out.  Now, this medication doesn’t just help get things moving, it helps set up scenarios that no parent ever wants to witness much less clean up.   Yes, this medication, added to 48 hours of pushing, very often results in poopsplosions, the likes of which you can’t quite appreciate until you’re elbow deep in stinky, smelly poopies.  (I warned ya, this post was pushing the poop story limits…………)

 

poopI am still on maternity leave.  This simply means that I spend all day with our little one.  I have had diaper explosions on my lap.  I’ve cleaned poop off his legs, back and even out of his hair. I’ve tactically figured out how to remove poop covered garments from over the head with minimal poop transfer.  I’ve unsuspectingly picked up our little guy without realizing the poop had escaped his clothes and I’ve had it all over my shirt.  Suffice to say, that in 3 short months, I’ve been covered in and cleaned up more poop that I ever imagined possible.  And, just like they tell you… somehow it’s ok, when it’s your own baby.  Still completely gross…. But somehow ok..

 

So, now that I’ve set the stage let me tell my story.

 

One day, hubby is holding the baby and he hears the sound we like to celebrate.  Yes, when you have a constipated baby… you DO actually celebrate each and every bowel movement.  So, he promptly takes the baby to the changing table to get a new diaper.

 

I hear him in the other room … “Holy crap…”  he declares “I’ve never seen so much poop!”.  “Hon” he calls to me  “this is an insane amount of poop”.  So of course, I go into the room to see.  Yes, this is another absurd behavior of parents (one that I couldn’t have quite imagined).  You actually share poop stories and even show poop to each other.   Ok, maybe this is just us………………..  Anyhow, when I look at the diaper, I simply say to hubby.  “That’s nothing!”  since I am now a poop expert, I know that this particular diaper filled with poop is not ‘an insane amount of poop’.  I’ve seen an ‘insane amount of poop’ – those are the days I’m cleaning it out of the baby’s hair.  So, I tell hubby “Honestly babe, that’s nothing.”  And, as hubby continues to rant about the amount of clean-up he must do,  I watch him as he pulls his three hundredth wipe from the container.    “Uhm babe” I say to him “Are ya gonna leave any wipes for the next diaper??”  He’s instantly defensive…. “how am I supposed to clean this all up without using this many wipes?”   And then, I’m on my way into the other room because obviously we need another trash bag to hold an entire bin of dirty wipes…………..

 

As I get into the other room I yell to hubby… “Honestly, that wasn’t a lot of poop.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to go agai……..”   and, as I say this, I hear hubby yelling….”OH MY GOD!  He’s going AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!”  And, I silently chuckle to myself as I realize that he now fully understands the definition of “an insane amount of poop”.

 

At this point I realize that hubby might need help… or maybe it’s just my evil side wanting to spectate as hubby tackles this mess.  So, I go back into the room where he’s changing the baby.  I watch him as he holds the baby’s legs way above his head so he doesn’t lay in the poop that’s now all over the changing table.  He’s grabbing handfuls of wipes… he easily must be on wipe #478.  He’s cleaning and shifting the baby and then……. I hear sucking.  And, as I look at our cute little guy who seems to be contorted like a pretzel, as daddy is elbow deep in dirty wipes and more focused on clean-up than baby.  I realize that dad has him bent so far in half that he’s now sucking on his own big toe!   “Uhm hon, look at what you’re doing to him!  You have him bent so far, his toe is in his mouth!”

 

And, surrounded by dirty wipes, smelly poop and one heck of a mess, you know what hubby’s response is???     “He’s been wanting to do that since the day he was born.  After all this, the least I could do is to help him figure out a way to get his toe into his mouth!”

 

 

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Some of you who have been reading for a while may remember that we have some traditions at our home for the Christmas holiday.

 

There have been a number of stories I’ve shared with you; from posts about light up holiday pigs, to hubby’s Santa wish lists, to the army of nutcrackers that station themselves in our dining room each Christmas.  These stories have taken us on the perfect Christmas tree shopping excursion and to the inner workings of my mind (scary I know!) via my rendition of ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas.

 

You may recall last year (like every year according to hubby) when I ruined Christmas.  This of course is hubby’s overly dramatic representation of my desire to add bows to our Christmas tree.  If you remember THIS POST, then you may also recall that I prefer white lights on our Christmas tree.  And after 10 years together, I have won this battle every single year (a small victory given how many battles I seem to lose).  Well, last year I went out after Christmas and stumbled upon an amazing sale on colored LED lights.   And, after much consideration and pondering, and agonizing, I decided to buy enough to decorate the tree with them.   I figured this would be a nice surprise for hubby IF he was a good boy all year (no small feat) and, if you are starting to know hubby, you realize it would take a LOT!  So, fast forward to now.  We have had a whirlwind year.  We found out we were pregnant (notice there’s that word “we” again… when we all know it was ME who was pregnant).  Our little one arrived very early (NOTHING… and I do mean NOTHING was ready for his arrival).   And, since he’s been a part of our lives we’ve had multiple trips back to the hospital, more tears than I can begin to recount and more worries than anyone should have when celebrating the birth of a precious young boy.   But, this post is not meant to be a downer…. It’s just to illustrate that it’s truly been a tough year despite all the joys and excitement of expanding our family.

 

Soooooo, the holidays are upon us and we take the gazillion tubs of Christmas out of the attic.  We then begin to discuss how the heck we are going to decorate amidst the baby swing, pack n play, bouncy seat, etc.. etc..  It’s a daunting task but we are up to it and we are trying desperately to cling to some normalcy to try to move past the difficulties we’ve had the last 3 months.  As we sort through the outdoor lights, hubby gets a glimmer in his eye… as he realizes there are enough colored  lights to put on our indoor tree.  He begins to plan his attack.

 

He pulls out a piece of paper.  He counts light strands.  He makes notes.  He recounts.  He write down more info.  He looks outside.  He looks at his piece of paper.  Then with all his homework done, he approaches me with a suggestion.

 

“You know,”  he says “those 2 trees outside have grown a lot since last year”  dramatic pause.   “So, if my math is right we’ll need 1000 lights on each one rather than the 700 we used last year”.

 

I’m silent…… quietly waiting to see where he’s going with this…….

 

“So, I think we’ll really need to use extra white LED lights, you know, the ones we used inside last year, in order to properly decorate outside”

 

I’m still silent.

 

“Look at my paper here.   We’ll need 1000 for this tree, 800 for this tree, probably 700 for these bushes.  Here’s how many we have (he shows me another column).  So, you can see that we don’t have enough white lights to do all the things we normally do outside… UNLESS we also use the lights we normally put on the indoor tree.”

 

And there it is…. His ploy to angle for an indoor Christmas tree with colored lights…. But he hasn’t said it yet.   He’s smart enough to try to let me get there on my own.

 

Ok, I’ll bite… so I reply “if we used the colored lights on the indoor tree, we’d have enough white lights for outside…. right?”  I can see the glimmer of  hope in his eyes…..   “Ok” I quietly reply.

 

Now I can see it slowly registering in his mind…. Did she just say yes?  Could this possibly be the year I get my wish of a colored tree?  Did I hear her correctly? I’m scared to open my mouth…. What if I say the wrong thing and she changes her mind???

 

Without hearing a response from him, I say…. “YES, you heard me correctly.  You can have your colored tree.  Just don’t expect this to be permanent, I’m just feeling mighty generous this year!”

 

Then, being the smart man he is… he feels the need to plant the seed, to build his case for future years.  He says “What if our little one prefers colored lights too??”   And, since I’m not about to squash all his future dreams I reply “Let’s wait until he can speak so he can let me know himself…. And no trying to sway him to your side!”

 

So there you have it folks… we are having a Christmas tree with colored lights this year…. Hubby won this round…… HOWEVER, we will STILL have bows on the tree.   Do ya think I’ll still be “ruining Christmas”???

 

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Hopefully you all enjoyed your Valentine’s Day.   Hubby & I had a very enjoyable evening where we both learned a few things.

 

  • Hubby learned that he can actually take on new tasks if he puts his mind to it. 
  • He learned that he has kitchen skills that he believed to be nonexistent 
  • He learned that it really is quite simple to make me happy…………….

 AND 

  

You see, my one request for Valentine’s Day, was that hubby cook me dinner.    I think in our 10 years of being together this has happened maybe 3 times.  Now, hubby will likely dispute this by quoting the times where he boiled pasta noodles and opened a jar of sauce.  Or the times where he took frozen taquitos out of the freezer and placed them in the toaster oven.   I, on the other hand, consider “making dinner” to encompass some sort of fresh ingredients being placed in a pan or an oven and combined to create a meal with multiple food groups.    Obviously we may not agree on the definition of cooking but I digress……………

 

Anyhow, hubby scoured the internet for a recipe, he went to the grocery store and bought all the necessary ingredients and then…. ALL BY HIMSELF…. he whipped up a fantastic meal.  We dined on chicken breasts stuffed with spinach, garlic, pine nuts & raisins, finished with a balsamic,dijon drizzle and accompanied by steamed broccoli, zucchini and cous cous.   It was AWESOME!  And I can honestly say he did it without asking me 900 questions.  He found the pans by himself, he sautéed, steamed & baked by himself.  He even cleaned up the kitchen afterwards.   It was almost like I traded in my hubby and got a loaner for Valentine’s Day!   Let’s just say I was a very happy wife!

 

As I mentioned, I think we both learned a lot yesterday….

 

I learned that I truly do have a wonderful husband….. even though sometimes, he’s deserving of a smack in the head.    He (hopefully) learned the pleasure of cooking dinner for your wife……….

 

AND, beyond all that,  I have to say that I probably learned something far more important than anything that hubby learned.

 

I learned that he’s full of BS when he tells me there’s something he “can’t do”.    Thanks again hubby…… now, What’s for dinner?

 

On a slightly separate note, I found the perfect Valentine’s Day card for hubby that I couldn’t help but share with you all.   Inside it says “Honey, it’s the little things you do that make me love you”

 

 

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There is potentially nothing I despise more in the world than car shopping.

 

I hate the entire process from the moment you walk through the door, to the fake conversation, to the irritating salesman yapping in the back of the car during the test drive, to the “why don’t you sit down for a bit”, to the pass off to the manager, to the annoying follow-up calls after I have long decided I do not want to buy your over-priced, under-performing, gas guzzling vehicle.

 

I guess you could say that I’m a bit over-the-top on my hatred of car shopping.

 

It’s actually ironic given that it’s 100% due to car shopping that I ever even met hubby.  You’d think that the benefit, misfortune…. no, I’ll stick with benefit, I received in meeting my wonderful husband, would have somehow dissipated my hatred for this experience – but it totally hasn’t.

 

If you read my follow-up story to “How It All Began” then you know that hubby, while he may not love the process, is so smitten with the fact the he’s about to own a new vehicle, he can tolerate the horrible dance that is car buying.

 

Sooooo…. when I start getting notices in the mail that our car is coming to the end of it’s lease, I start to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I dread every day where hubby might suggest we check out new cars.  All the while hubby is humming and smiling and Googling up a storm, researching new vehicles.  (btw – the reason we usually lease is so that hubby  can subject me to this torture can experience this excitement every 3 years)

 

“Oooohhh look at this one”  he might say…..

“This one gets great ratings” he tries to lure me in…..

“So-and-so has one of these and he really likes it” he tries to engage me in conversation…..

“This one has a V6, 320 horsepower, 269 torque….” I honestly have no idea where he’s going with this one…. unless maybe he’s buying me a pony, horses?  I don’t know…….

 

Needless to say, our lease is almost due.  And, this particular new car brings with it special excitement.  You see, hubby has been forced to drive my car for the last year and a half.  This is just dreadful since he didn’t get to pick out the car, doesn’t necessarily like the car and has been “suffering” through it for sooooo long.    (Now, without boring you with far too many details, here’s why hubby is driving “my” car:   I received a new company car smack in the middle of my personal lease and hubby’s lease was up shortly afterwards so, since no one was driving my car,  we decided he would drive “my” car until the lease was up.)

 

So there we are, still 5 months out from the end of the lease and hubby is already focused on new cars.

 

We drive down the road and he says… “what do you think of that car?”

We’re watching tv and he says…..”what do you think of that car?”

We’re making out, naked, in bed and he says ….. “what do you think of that car?”  

 

Ok… maybe I took it too far with the last one… but needless to say, with 5 months to spare, it seems to consume his every thought.   I’m ready to put him into “my” car and send it over a cliff.  This way I wouldn’t have to listen to him for the next 4 months (this has already been happening for a month!) AND I wouldn’t have to subject myself to the process of buying a new car -this is the best part EVER!   It’s sort of like a win-win all around….. no??!!

 

Ok yes, I’d be sad without hubby…. but more importantly, WHAT ON EARTH WOULD I BLOG ABOUT?  

 

Ok, you’re right,  I guess I’ll have to reconsider that plan…………………………  just say a little prayer for me that I make it through the next few months!

 

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