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Hello my name is The Wife…. And I have a coat addiction.

 

There I said it.  Out loud.  (of course “out loud” is to no one other than the baby  – who is currently sleeping, probably didn’t hear me, and likely wouldn’t care if he did).  But, they say that admitting that you have a problem is the first step…. Right?   Ok, it’s not so much a problem if it doesn’t hurt anyone…. Right??

 

I have been addicted to coats for about 20 or so years.  It probably started right after I got my first job out of college, since this was probably the first time I had enough money to actually go out and feed this addiction.  Coincidentally, this was likely also the time when I started to have enough places to go in order to actually have a need to wear multiple coats.

 

As of this exact moment, I have 35 in total (and, yes I actually did just go and count them – which was sort of eye-opening in and of itself).  Some women have shoe addictions (ok, I have that too… but that’s a post for a different day) but most of my attention is put towards outer wear.  I simply cannot resist a new, fashionable jacket that has a unique cut, or color that might, some day, look cute with a certain outfit (that I don’t even own yet……)  My addiction has grown well beyond the “coat closet” in our foyer.  It’s also taken over almost an entire closet in the spare bedroom, and necessitates a seasonally appropriate swap to ensure that coats downstairs are the right weight for the current weather. 

 

There are a few problems with this.

 

1)      My addiction has oozed over into hubby’s attire.  Now, you may be scratching your head wondering what the heck this means.   Well, my inability to pass up a fashionable, on-sale jacket may have trickled over into buying coats for hubby.  To date hubby has 14 coats….. yes, probably overkill for a guy. But, I can assure you, he looks mighty dapper (dapper –what a fun word, and not easily worked into conversation…..)  in each and every one of them!  If you were to add his coats to my coats, we could probably keep our entire block warm during the winter…. Which brings me to the 2nd problem………..

2)      The sheer # of coats might, just possibly, impact hubby’s ability to put away his coats.  You should probably read THIS POST about the # of coats that are NOT in our coat closet, in order to understand my dilemma.    Could I have created my own challenge here….. NO!! I’m not willing to accept any responsibility…. So, we’ll just move onto the next problem.

3)      Hubby seems to need his own intervention.   You’d think that hubby, who doesn’t necessarily understand my affinity towards outerwear.  Who doesn’t really “get” the need for himself to have 14 coats.  Who needs reminding that he has a different coat that might look better with an outfit.  Who complains that I have too many coats.  Who can’t cram his own coats into the coat closet because I have too much in there (WAIT – I just remembered, I’m not taking responsibility for this…..).  Anyhow, you’d think that he, of all people, would not feed into my addiction…… but you’d be WRONG!

 

With any good addiction, the person suffering from the problem is usually surrounded by some great enablers.  So, I’d like to share with you some evidence.

 

This, my dear blog readers, is a picture of one of my Christmas presents from this year, FROM HUBBY:

leather jacket 

 This, my dear blog readers, is a picture of one of my Christmas presents from 2 years ago, FROM HUBBY

 Red jacket

 

Yes, they are DAMN CUTE coats.  Yes, I will happily wear them.  Yes, I can already envision the cute outfits that will coordinate with my most recent gift.  Yes, I will find-a-way to squeeze it into an already overflowing closet.  Yes, I LOVE my gift… but heck, I ask you this?????  Who has exactly has the problem here??  Me, or hubby who, if he continues to buy me cute coats, will probably have to start moving his entire wardrobe into the shed in the backyard just so I have a place to put everything???!   🙂

 

And.. in honor of the “Why I Love My Husband” link up party at  The Happy Wives Club….  (my list started HERE in case you missed it)

 

Reason # 11 why I love my hubby is….. he buys me stuff that I absolutely do not need, but that he knows I will enjoy!

Reason #12  is…. he really is a good gift buyer (which is a huge complaint of most women) but my hubby has always been really, really good at this as noted here & here!

 

 

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You might think that the threat of a new baby rapidly approaching would keenly re-prioritize for my hubby.   But alas, if you’ve been reading for any length of time, you probably know that nothing is on hubby’s radar that’s not important (read that as electronics – and apparently baby monitors and breast pumps don’t count!)

 

So, it’s probably no surprise that the new furniture we purchased for the baby’s room has been sitting, in boxes, in my living room for probably over 6 weeks.  It causes me anxiety Every. Single. Time. I walk past it.  My OCD (see hubby, I can admit I have a bit of OCD) screams at me when stuff is not where it belongs… it’s why hubby’s empty soda cans, invisible boxes, and crap on the stairs drive me bonkers!

 

Every day, when I come home I politely remind hubby of his timeline…

 

“Hon, a little over 3 months left”

“Hon, less than 3 months left”

“Hon, only 2 months left…”

 

And every day, hubby employs selective listening to tune me out and his selective vision kicks into high gear as he uses all his special powers to pretend he doesn’t seen the boxes… which equal 5 in total.  One is approximately 4 ft tall and another is probably 5 ft long.  (UHM, I don’t know, kind of hard to ignore – but I guess that’s just me……….)

 

His logic has been that we need to remove all the stuff from what will become the baby’s room, before he can move the boxes.

 

Problem #1:  This is HIS job…. I cannot carry the boxes, nor can I remove the existing furniture.

 

He also wants to paint the room before we put the new furniture in (makes sense but……………..)

 

Problem #2:  This is HIS job…. I cannot paint in my current state.

 

So, under normal circumstances, where I could easily become exasperated and do the work myself, I cannot do anything myself.   So, I’m at his mercy, and on his timeline, if I want to have this done.   UGH!

 

******* UPDATE *******

 

I wrote much of this post last week…. And didn’t have time to get it uploaded until today because my hard drive crashed (back up your stuff people – don’t be me and lose everything!!).   And, here’s a crazy news flash.   I expected to be able to take pictures of the HUGE boxes to illustrate the absurdity of my life but HOLY CRAP, they are gone.   It’s like I put it out into the blogosphere and magical things happened.  They actually made their way to the baby’s room.   The crib is assembled and everything is where it belongs……………HOORAY!

 

Here’s the catch.

 

Now that all the furniture is in the baby’s room, hubby is now questioning the need to paint the room….. “I kinda like the color it is right now”  he says.  Which he quickly follows up with  “But, if you still want it painted, I’ll be happy to do it”.  What sort of ploy is this???   Another 6 week delay and the baby will likely be in the room…. And then, no painting can occur… very sly hubby, very sly…………………..

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I generally consider myself to be a smart woman.  And, for this reason it’s particularly difficult to accept the fact that I will never be able to figure out my hubby.

 

The things that hit his radar seem to hold no particular importance in the universe and conversely, the things that never hit his radar, in my mind, are actually important.

  
 
Take for instance toilet paper.  Pretty important….. No?  Well, only slightly important to hubby.  Meaning we’ve been running so low on TP this week that, every day, I’ve brought up the fact that we really need to make a trip to Costco.  This wasn’t a declaration that I was going to go shopping, but rather a request that someone go shopping.  But alas, the replenishment of household items seems to rest squarely on my responsibility list.
 
 
I’m not exactly sure what hubby would have done had we actually run out of TP.  I shudder to think about what alternate product might be substituted, but thankfully we headed off this tragedy as I forced an errand trip one evening this week…. The solution: we both went to Costco!
 
 
While in the car, I decide to ask a few questions to really try understand my hubby.
 
 
It starts something like this:
 
 
Me:  “I think there are a few other things we might need.  I know we’re running really low on shampoo and conditioner…. Anything else you can think of that we might need?”
Hubby: “Hmmmmm…. I’m not really sure”
Me: “You do realize that you use all the same products I do every day.  You never pay attention to see if we’re running low?”
Hubby: “I guess not”
Me: “I don’t understand how you could pick up the shampoo or toothpaste every-single-day and never notice that we need to buy more??”
Hubby:  “I just don’t.” He states so matter of factly.
Me: “Dare I even ask what you’d do if we ran out of shampoo?” although I already know the answer
Hubby: “I’d figure it out”
Me: “You’d wash your hair with soap wouldn’t you?!”
Hubby: “Probably…… Honey, I’m a guy.”. As if that explains everything.  “Stuff like that just never hits my radar”
Me: “What exactly does hit your radar?”
Hubby: “Well, important stuff……..”
Me: “Just so I’m clear…… Washing your hair and wiping your butt are not necessarily important??”
Hubby: “I guess not in the way they are important to you…..”
 
 
And there ya have it folks.  No matter how hard I try, I will just never understand!!
 

 

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Sorry I’ve disappeared… my job is squeezing every last drop of my time and energy now that they know they only have me for 4 more months before my maternity leave!

 

I’ve come to realize that there’s an odd parallel between men & children when it comes to bed time.  Now, I don’t have children (yet) but I do know that they always want to “stay up later”….. “just 5 more minutes……”

 

And, oddly enough, my hubby seems to share this inability to admit he should be in bed.

 

A typical evening at our home consists of some unwinding time in front of tv prior to bed.  Eventually I’m tired and declare I’ll be retiring for the evening.  Then, like playing a broken record, I’ll ask hubby “Are you coming up?”.   To which he always replies, “No, I’m gonna stay up a bit”.

 

Now this “staying up a bit” could be just after he’s:

 

  • declared how tired he, himself, is.
  • fallen asleep 2-3 times during the last hour while holding on to the remote
  • announced that tv programming sucks, and there’s nothing to watch

 

But alas, none of the declarations are reason enough to put himself to bed.

 

So, I find myself negotiating like I would with a five year old.

 

“Honey, you do realize that you’re pretty much sleeping here on the couch?”

 

“Honey, you’ve been complaining all day that you didn’t get much sleep last night, so why would you want to force yourself to stay up?”

 

“Honey, I could understand wanting to say up if you were in the middle of a great movie, but you are flipping through the channels deciding between Duck Dynasty and American Pickers… I bet nothing earth-shattering is going to happen that you need to know about”

 

And lastly…..

 

“Honey, I promise you will not miss anything by coming to bed now.”

 

And, there are generally one of 2 replies from him. He either says… “I’m just gonna flip around and see if there’s anything to watch”  — This makes no sense to me since he’s admittedly tired BUT there may just be something on some obscure channel that would keep him awake.  Or, he says “But it’s only __’o clock”  (and you can fill in just about any time whatsoever into the “__” time slot”).  It’s as if the clock dictates his bedtime not his level of exhaustion.  If it’s “only” 10:00, it’s too early to go to bed.   If it’s “only” 11:00, it’s too early to go to bed.  I’m not sure where he gathered the impression that he’s less of man if he can’t force himself to stay up past a certain time just so he can say he didn’t go to bed early.

 

This is not my hubby… but it might as well be!

Nope, I just don’t get it.    If I’m tired, I go to sleep.  If he’s tired he goes to sleep only if it’s past a certain time or he’s exhausted all possible options of crap tv. And, even after all that, sometimes he falls asleep on the couch…. thus, taking away the required decision to Go To Bed…. somehow, I feel like he thinks he’s won by not going to bed.  What exactly he’s the winner of is debatable.  In my world it’s probably along the lines of some sort of Moron Award, although I’m sure in the World of Men, this might just be some great honor that I’m unaware of!

 

 

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It’s Springtime. The birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming and yep, it’s raining.  This should be the time of year where you start stowing away your winter clothes and transitioning your drawers to bathing suits and shorts but this year it’s been oddly cold.  And, given the mild winter we had, is pretty dang annoying.

 

BUT, you know what else is more dang annoying?

 

The fact that both my kitchen & dining room tables have been showcasing their multitasking ability as coat closets for WAY too long.

 

Here’s the kitchen.

Please note the one coat dangling on the floor……  And please also note, the repair kit for the lawn mower that’s been sitting on the table for upwards of 2 weeks now.

 

Here’s the dining room.

Yes, that’s 2 more of hubby’s coats.  Resting peacefully until the next time they might be needed.

 

Much like the mind-boggling phenomenon of passing the dishwasher to put dirty dishes into the sink OR the mystifying 1/2 job of putting items on top of the counter, above the drawer where they belong OR the difficult task of placing empty soda cans into the trash,  hubby must walk at least 15 feet past our coat closet to put his coats on these chairs.  And then, they seem to live there for the season.  Even when I finally cave and put them away, while cleaning for the cleaning lady, they eventually find their way back to the chairs.  It’s a never-ending, no-win, battle for me.

 

I can’t wait until it’s warm enough to put the coats away for good…. at least I’ll have coat-free tables for about 4-5 months!!!

 

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Hubby and I vacationed this week…… it was sort of like our last hoorah before the baby comes and our lives are forever changed.   If you were to ask hubby, he would insist that we will NOT give up vacationing like this.  I tend to err on the side of caution and recognize that we won’t have a clue how our lives will change until they actually change…. but I’m sure that our ever-changing lives (just like my ever-changing belly) will undoubtedly be the topic of future posts!

 

Today’s post however, is not about any of that – it’s about pants…. or perhaps more accurately, the absence of pants.

 

You see, an ever-occuring battle, argument, discussion prior to each vacation is whether or not hubby needs to pack pants.  We tend to like all-inclusive trips that offer of a number of restaurants on property.  Many of these restaurants have a dress code.  Which could loosely be described as “pants required for all men”.   In all honesty, not that hard to comply with…… right?!  Well, unless you are hubby and you need to debate the need to wear pants at a resort, in 85 degree weather.   Ok, maybe debate isn’t the right word…. other words that come to mind are… whine or complain.

 

I generally win the debate and pants, however despised, make their way into his luggage.

 

Then, after we make it to the resort, hubby grumbles the entire first night as we get dressed for dinner.  Once we make it to the restaurant, hubby scours the crowd for any men who are in non-compliance with the dress code… then he says to me…..”¡No Pantalones!” as he nods his head in the direction of someone.  “¡No Pantalones!” as he walks past a couple at a table.  (yes, in case you have guessed – we are in Mexico. Thus, hubby’s limited language skills come out as he tries to make his case  – now in Spanish – about why I didn’t need to force him to wear “pantalones”).  I guess I should be happy that he’s honing his Spanish vocabulary since, to date, he can probably say maybe 15 words in this language.  What I’m not enjoying is his need to over-use his new favorite statement.

 

We get ready for bed and as hubby removes his pants he merrily declares:  “¡No Pantalones!”

I put on my bathing suit in the morning and hubby smiles and says:  “¡No Pantalones!”

He swims up to the pool bar and from across the water, I can see him mouthing:  “¡No Pantalones!”

 

Yes folks, this has become the catch phrase of our vacation so hubby can remind me like 1564 times a day that he really didn’t need to pack pantalones… since no one seems to enforce the pantalones rule at dinners.   At this point, I’m starting to think about hiding all the pantalones when we get home just so I can continue to use this new phrase every time he gets ready for work……  He steps out of the shower, opens the empty dresser drawer with a quizzical look on his face, and behind him he hears me whispering…..   “¡No Pantalones!”   🙂

 

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