Every Kid Wants To Be Superman!

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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The Ritual

Well, it’s been a crazy couple weeks at The Hubby Diaries household. 

New cars…. oral surgery, a Superbowl….. and some other things that I can’t blog about just yet…..    Sorry for disappearing but sometime life just gets in the way of blog time! 

So, to bring you slightly up-to-speed, I thought I’d share the events of last weekend.

 

I’ve mentioned before that hubby is a Giants fan…. we even own season tickets.

 

I’ve also mentioned that hubby, like many absurd football fans, likes to uphold certain rituals or superstitions when it comes to watching his Boys in Blue.

 

Well, as you likely know, the Giants won the Superbowl this past weekend.   The hooting & hollering at my house were something to behold BUT, the story here is not about the game itself but rather the ritual surrounding the game and game(s) leading up until the Superbowl.  If you recall, I mentioned that hubby feels the need to envelope himself in superstition when it comes to watching football.   In case you’re wondering, the new grill we bought for tailgating this season is still sitting unopened, in our garage.

 

So ever since the play offs started, we needed to employ new rituals.  The development of these rituals was originally unbeknownst to me but somehow, someway, I got pulled into the madness.

 

You see, when the Giants played in their first play off game this season we had a “normal” Sunday and hubby came home to plant himself in front of the tv, in the Man Cave, to cheer on his boys.   From my perspective nothing special happened this day.  From hubby’s perspective… at least after the game ended with a Giants win…  we had set the precedent for all activity that must occur to ensure we have paid our dues to the superstition God’s of Football, so that the Giants would continue to play well.

 

Apparently now…….

 

There was an outfit that must be worn

There was a place where hubby had to sit

There was a specific beer glass hubby needed to drink from

There was the pre-game, video game that must be played

He must only speak to certain people

He must watch the game by himself

 

And……(this is the part I hadn’t bargained for…………..)

 

There was a place we needed to eat lunch the day of the game

There were specific menu items that needed to be ordered at said lunch, on the day of the game.

 

Now, I was blindly unaware of these details on this the first weekend.  So, on the 2nd play off weekend when hubby declared.  “Well, we’re gonna have to go to Panera for lunch today”.   I innocently asked “Why?” 

 

And then apparently I needed to be schooled on the necessary ritual that had to occur, each and every time the Giants played this year, so as not upset the Football Gods.  And so, we went to Panera.  I dutifully ordered the same meal and then, when we returned home,  I watched hubby meticulously set up his viewing area with more attention that I’d ever seen him give to any area of our home.  (I only wish he could use the same attention to detail to say, clean the bathroom…..)  And then viola  the Giants won again.  This of course only solidified hubby’s insanity.

 

So, on Superbowl Sunday, I can’t say I was surprised when I found myself at Panera, eating tomato soup and 1/2 a sandwich, as we set the wheels in motion for the Giants to win. 

 

All I have to say is….. You’re welcome Giants fans.    It’s beyond obvious to me that hubby now has the power to influence the outcome of the game from his couch.   Now if only I could figure out a way to harness this power for other vastly more  important things…………

 

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Wait Just A Minute…. It’s Not Ruined??

Hubby ordered sausage & pepper pizza 2 nights ago.

 

Now for a normal person, this wouldn’t be worth blogging about BUT since it was hubby and it goes against virtually everything he believes in, I had to put it out there into the blogosphere to try to solicit some sympathy.  Because, for my life, I cannot figure this man out.

 

If you don’t understand why this would matter, you should read this post:  You’re Gonna Ruin It.

 

It’s in that post where I first shared hubby’s aversion to “contaminating” his cheese pizza with anything but cheese.   This has been an on-going battle since the day I met hubby.  I like toppings on my pizza and he doesn’t.   As I mentioned in that last post, we haven’t been able to find a happy medium without ordering separate pizzas, because the minute I add any toppings to half the pizza, I have “ruined his plain cheese half with flavor & smells from my toppings”.  And, my dear blog readers, apparently this is just plain unacceptable!

 

BUT… just when you think you have him figured out, he likes to change things up on you.

 

So, we’re out to dinner with friends and he decides he wants a pizza.  The waiter comes over and he orders just that… a cheese pizza.  Then the waiter starts prodding him.  “Just cheese??” he says.   To which I reply, “He won’t eat anything but plain cheese….. everything else ruins his pizza!”  But the waiter isn’t letting this one pass, he says “wouldn’t you want some peppers, or maybe some onions, or how about some sausage?”.   And hubby looks at him, as if he’s contemplating these offerings.  I, on the other hand, am steadfast in my opinion of his pizza order.  I KNOW that hubby won’t contaminate his pizza.  I’ve had to have this debate for the last 10 years.  It always ends the same way…. nothing but cheese.

 

But hubby seems to waver.

 

The waiter presses on….. “We make a fantastic sausage & pepper pizza”.   Our friends join in… “They do make a great sausage & pepper pizza”.   I chime in… “What’s going on with you?  Are you about to be pressured into pizza with toppings????  You and I have argued this very topic for years and if you change you mind, right here, right now….. I may just have to kill you.”   

 

“OK” he says…. “sausage & peppers it is!”.   And then, I fainted, fell out of my chair, and they had to rush me to the hospital.     Did MY husband just order toppings on his pizza?  It couldn’t be?  We’ve discussed this ad nauseum,  I’ve begged, I’ve pleaded.  I’ve rationalized with him about the fact that separately, he likes sausage and he likes peppers.  All to no avail.  I must always eat just plain cheese unless I want to get my own personal pizza.  And now, here we are, and he’s succumbing to peer pressure at the restaurant.  WHERE WAS THIS WAITER 10 YEARS AGO???????????????

 

After he orders, again, I have to say to him… “Are you sure?  What’s going on with you?  Did you just cave in and order something you don’t really want?  Cause, we can still change this and put the universe back on it’s axis!”.   And, he looks at me and smugly replies…. “Nope, I’m totally happy.  I want sausage & peppers”.    And that moment folks, was when I realized that I wanted smack him right upside the head.    But instead, I gave him the reply that always seems to follow any ridiculous or impossible to understand behavior…….  “You know, you really are EXHAUSTING…………”

 

Now, I have no idea if this was an isolated incident (likely).  And, I’m having trouble celebrating that he’s finally opened his eyes to a new form of pizza since it was only once (probably).   And beyond all of that, sometimes I wonder if he chooses to be difficult just to test me……. and now, after 10 years of toying with me, he’s deemed it time to shake things up a bit.    And everyone wonders why I started a blog…………………………………

 

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Christmas Is Ruined

Every year hubby lugs down Christmas bin after Christmas bin to decorate for the holiday.. then he surreptitiously dumps them all over the house.

 

For the next few days I navigate my way around our house like a mine field.  I squeeze through the hallway upstairs, I step over crap at the bottom of the stairs and I slide heavy items out of the way so I can pass.  And then… almost like clockwork, hubby disappears to go to a Giants game.  And miraculously, when he returns, our home looks like Christmas.   Now, don’t get me wrong, I like to decorate for the holiday and I don’t necessarily *need* hubby’s participation in choosing which shelf gets Sniffles the snowman, or where to put the tree in the North Pole Village BUT, hubby does *need* to be involved in some things.

 

I do not touch hubby’s army of nutcrackers.  If you recall from last year, these soldiers are meticulously assembled on their battle line each holiday season.  And I never, ever, take on this decorating task.  The nutcracker bin may well sit in the dining room for another week after the rest of the house is completely decorated anxiously awaiting hubby’s assembling of the army (which apparently must be done “on it’s own time” and “cannot be rushed”).

 

The other key element that I never do alone is our tree. 

 

I’ve spoken about the importance of selecting the right tree in the past.  And, I’ve outlined how fun, merry, exciting, magical,  errr… uhmmm.. thorough our shopping excursions can be to find the perfect tree.  But what I haven’t written about is the details of our tree.

 

Let’s start with the lights…. which are a never-ending battle at my house (hmmmm… perhaps I should have enlisted my own army!)  I have a preference for white lights on our Christmas tree and hubby has a preference for colored lights.  I always win  (just as any wife should!).  And we have white lights on the tree.   Now, in all actuality, I owned a home before I met hubby and I already had a TON of Christmas stuff, including many boxes of white lights… so, it’s almost as if the choice was already made and we just continued down this path. BUT, it doesn’t stop hubby from wishing, whining, pouting each year as he strings on the white lights.  He says things like:

“Know what would make this tree look even better?”……………..”colored lights”

“Know what would make my Christmas truly magical?” …………….”colored lights”

“Know what makes fantastic Christmas trees look less fantastic?” ……………”white lights”

I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.

 

Anyhow, a very long, and somewhat unrelated story but….. we hit the lottery this year and decided to buy new LED lights to decorate the outside of our house. — OK – before you get all excited for us — we didn’t actually win the lottery, but you really need to, in order to afford LED lights…. Holy Crap… what are they made of GOLD??!!  ($30 friggin dollars for a dang string of lights – WTH?!)  Ok, I’m getting way off topic here.  Back to my tree.

 

The long story resulted in us “stealing” some of our “inside” lights for outside and left us with white LED lights to put on our Christmas tree.  (And now you can see the tree from outerspace and you need to wear sunglasses in our house…. but hey, we’re saving energy!!).  And hubby, like every year (while he was fascinated by the bright lights – as every man would be…..) still pouted about not having colored lights on his tree.    

 

And then, to make matters worse…… come the bows.

 

I always finish our tree with small burgundy bows.   Hubby hates bows on trees.   I have no idea if perhaps he was attacked by a roll of fabric when he was younger, or maybe his mom gave everyone in the family gifts with bows while hubby got  coal for Christmas, but he is horribly prejudiced against pretty bows.  This is another tree decorating battle that I generally win (just as any wife should).  And hubby, once again, always pouts.

“Know what would make this tree look even better?” ………”colored lights and NO bows”

“Know what would make my Christmas truly magical?” ……….”colored lights and NO bows”

“Know what makes fantastic Christmas trees look less fantastic…… “white lights and ugly bows”

I have no idea why hubby could give a crap about every-single other decorating conversation I force him to have the other 364 days of the year.  And then all of a sudden he’s an authority on the “perfectly” decorated Christmas tree.

 

And that my dear friends….. is how I ruin Christmas, each and every year, for my dear hubby.

 

(now, if you can keep it a secret……  next year, I may just let hubby have free reign over the tree but it’s taken me years to mentally prepare myself for what sort of tree we might wind up with!)

 

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Superstitions

Ahhhh  superstition…….

 

It’s what keeps us from walking under ladders (probably a good practice – and this is coming from someone who did just this and had a hammer dropped on her head when she was young!).  – No comments from the peanut gallery please…..

 

It’s what keeps us knocking on wood.

 

It’s what keeps us from opening umbrellas indoors.

 

It’s what keeps dancing hamsters on top of TVs

 

It’s what keeps people cooking on broken grills.

 

It’s what keeps us taking HUGE breaths to blow out birthday candles.

 

WAIT…… WHAT????

 

Oh right, I probably lost you up there somewhere between umbrellas and birthday cakes.

 

That’s because THOSE superstitions are what keep my hubby up at night.

 

 

Please let me explain…………..

 Here’s a conversation from earlier this week.

 

Hubby:  “That was a crazy GIANTS game!”

Me:  “It sure was.  I almost can’t believe they pulled off that win”  not really caring all that much……

Hubby:  “I’m glad I wasn’t at the stadium to watch that mess”

Me:  “Yeah, I suppose a trip to Cabo was a good excuse to miss a game” 

Me:  “Speaking of Giants games.  Have you guys been using the new grill for tailgating?”

Hubby:  “Actually no.”

Me:  “But why not, I thought you said the old one was broken?”

Hubby:  “It is.  But somebody’s brother’s, friend’s, girlfriend’s, uncle happened to have a spare top for the Exact. Same. Grill!  How cool is that??!!”

Me:  “I’m sure it’s cool.  But, didn’t we buy a new portable grill just this summer to replace your broken grill?”

Hubby:  “Yes, we did.  It’s in the garage”

Me:  “In the garage….????”

Hubby: “Yep, in the garage.  It’s actually still in the box.”  he so matter-of-factly states…….

Me: “I don’t get it”.  it’s not all that uncommon that hubby and I are speaking different languages……. “Why wouldn’t you be using a brand new grill?  Isn’t it even better than the one you’ve been using the past few years?”

Hubby:  “Yes, it’s better.. and even slightly larger.”

Me: “Uhmmmm, ok.  So then, why wouldn’t you be using it?”

Hubby:  “Superstition.   We’ve thought it over, and we simply can’t change the grill that we’ve been using for years”

 

And there you have it.

 

Apparently if hubby were to change grills for the football season, it would send a destructive and otherwise irreparable message to the Football Gods of Superstition, and the Giants would obviously have a horrible season.  (I surmise that hubby may have already messed up some other superstition since the Giants have, in fact, been squeezing out some very  ‘messy’ wins this season without any interference at all from grill alterations……. but hey, that’s just me.)

 

Just so you have a visual understanding of how a superstitious tailgating set up might appear, I thought I’d share an image of the exact layout that occurs to ensure that the Giants performance is not impacted by hubby or his friends.

 

 

 

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Trick or Treats??

It may not surprise you that hubby is a big fan of Halloween.   Not necessarily the type of Halloween fan that I’d prefer –  the kind that starts thinking about cool, goofy and elaborate costumes weeks before the holiday (my dear hubby would need to have his life threatened to ever think about putting on a Halloween costume).  So you may be wondering, if he hates the dressing up part of Halloween, what part does he actually like?

 

If you’ve been a long time reader, you probably have your hand up in the air… screaming ooooh… ooooh – pick me, pick me!  So, we’ll just pretend I can hear you.   YES!  the part of Halloween he likes are the TREATS.  You see, hubby has an incredible sweet tooth and he sure does love his candies.

 

If you remember my Halloween post from 2 years ago, you may recall that I waited until Halloween week to buy any candy for trick-or-treaters.  This was a well thought out plan on my part to ensure that there was actually candy in the cupboard when I opened it on Oct 31st.  It was the only way to make sure hubby didn’t get his grubby, sticky little paws all over the treats before the holiday.   You may also recall that he can consume just about any snack at the speed of light and, unless I can sneak away a piece or two, I may not actually get any at all.

 

While some of you may remember all of this, apparently I have selective memory, or I had a momentary lapse of sanity or just possibly, I have just lost my mind over the past month because…….. while I was shopping at Costco last month I came across a bulk bag of Halloween candy.  The perfect mix of items that we both like so I thought to myself. “Self, you should buy this bag…. it will make your life easier, you won’t have to shop later, and you can cross Halloween candy shopping off your ‘To Do’ list”.  But, what I neglected to consider was The Hubby Factor.

 

This is the bag I purchased…… 125 PIECES!!!!

 

 

So after the bag sat in the cabinet for about a week or so, I went to grab a piece… and, lo and behold… there were 3 whoppers left.  Can you guess which was hubby’s preferred item in bag?

 

There are still about 3 weeks left until Halloween……….

 

A few days later and I go for a snack and the bag is shockingly light…. more than half the Reese’s are gone.

 

There are still over 2 weeks left until Halloween……….

 

That weekend I feel like a piece of candy and wind up getting the last Reese’s (hubby was probably worried about taking the last one so he had moved onto the Hershey bars… about half of them are gone)

 

There are still about 2 weeks left until Halloween………

 

I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you to hear that the week before Halloween the only candy that’s left is the Hershey’s with almonds… and this is only because hubby doesn’t like his chocolate “ruined” with nuts (much like his contaminated pizza!)

 

Needless to say, Halloween was almost upon us and, rather than having one less thing to shop for, I’m now without any candy at all.    You’d think after 9 years of living with hubby I would have known better than to buy candy so early (or I would have been smart enough to hide half of the bag) but sometimes, my brain just doesn’t work properly…. either that or hubby has started putting something in my coffee in the morning that gives him the ability to control my thoughts…………

 

Hmmmmmmmmmm…… maybe I’m on to something here……………….

 

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