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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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Wow…. You know how sometimes you blink and you’ve lost like a month of your life?  Well, that’s me right now.  I’m short staffed at work which is slowly and painfully killing me and then add to that a cute little munchkin to take care of (ok, 2 munchkins if you count hubby – who arguably is less cute, although cute in his own right….) and I have no idea where my time goes.

 

What I do know is that the tasks that used to not get done at my house because of hubby’s inability to commit (or at least align) with my timelines now take even L O N G E R…. if you can possibly imagine that.   And longer means that Christmas bags filled with gifts are still sitting in my bedroom (read HERE), laundry baskets filled with clean clothes NEVER get emptied.  A picture that I put on the side of our bathroom to get hung (oh say, about 6 months ago) still knowingly winks at me – from the floor  – every time I take a shower.    I remember a day when blogging somehow inadvertently led to action… or at least considered action by hubby.  But maybe because we’re both so busy.. and tired…. and busy…. and MORE tired and I can’t find time to blog, it’s not easy to subtlety put things on hubby’s radar.

 

But alas, all this really means is that the fairies have needed to kick into overdrive.

 

And by fairies….. (contrary to hubby’s perspective)…. I mean ME!

 

Take this example.

 

It’s allergy season at our house… which sucks!  If you don’t have seasonal allergies consider yourself incredibly lucky because it’s almost impossible to communicate how much it truly blows.  The sniffling, sneezing, nose blowing, medicine swallowing, windows open/closed debates that happen on a daily basis at our house are ridiculous.  We have loaded up on tissues and Allegra D and nasal spray and umpteen other remedies so we can try to make it through this season with minimal discomfort.

 

So, I’m in the kitchen the other day and I go to the counter to get a tissue….. but…………. The tissue box is no longer there.  Shocking, I know.

 

So, I go to the bathroom to blow my nose… thinking to myself…. “Self, don’t replace the tissues.  Hubby used the last one.  He will undoubtedly need more.  He will replace the box that he emptied.”  And then the part of me that lives in reality said …. “Self, you’re delusional.  Replace the tissues.  You will absolutely need another tissue long before that box gets replaced.”   And then the hopeful side of me responded…. “No.  He’s going to prove you wrong.  He WILL replace the tissues”

 

And then, like 4 days passed.   No tissues.

 

And every dang time I walked to the counter…. forgetting that there are no tissues there, I curse under my breath as I reach into thin air grasping for a non-existent tissue box.

 

And then, one day hubby was standing in the kitchen as I walked to the counter for a tissue (apparently I’m not good at un-training myself).  But this time, rather than silently have a conversation in my head I decided to talk to our son.   “Mini-hubby” I said, “When you get older, please, oh please, make sure you learn how to do things like this for the people around you.  Daddy doesn’t care that mommy has snot running down her face……”    And hubby, who is obviously listening, perks up and says…. “Oh, there’s no tissues?”.   “No honey, there’s no tissues…. Because you emptied them days ago and didn’t get a new box”.

 

With a straight face hubby responds….. “But tissues replace themselves, I don’t understand why there not there?”  “Uhm, no hubby, tissues actually don’t replace themselves”.  I sigh a long sigh….. “Fairies??”  he asks, seemingly perplexed.  “Nope, the fairies don’t do it either”.  “Hmmmmm…..” he thinks for a moment (you can see the wheels turning in his head).   Then he comes to a brilliant conclusion.   “I will get new tissues”  he declares.  And then, without skipping a beat he asks me….. “where do we keep the tissues???”

 

(We’ve lived in this house for 8 years.  The extra tissues have had the same storage spot for 8 years.  Hubby has no idea where that storage spot is)

And that your honor, is why I had to kill him.

 

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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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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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