What NOT To Say To Your Wife If You Want To Get Lucky

Kellan selected this post of mine to share with her readers on her new site, On The Flipside. Many of you have already weighed in on this topic, but please go over and help welcome Kellan to her second and newest blogging venture!

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My husband and I were in bed.

The lights were dim. The tv was off.

He leaned over and started trying to feel me up kissing me.

A moment later, he pulled back, gazed lovingly into my eyes and said," You smell like chicken."

"WHAT!?!?!"

"Cooked chicken." He is puzzled by my horror. "That's a good thing!"

Yeah, not for you, buddy....


Guess who brushed his teeth and used Listerine before bedtime for nothing????

An Unsolved Mystery

My friend Allie and her three children came to stay with my family over the holiday weekend; we rarely get to see them and it was such an enjoyable visit.

I would love to share with you several photos of this visit- kids on Claire's 4-wheeler, sidewalk chalk masterpieces on my driveway, kids dressed in patriotic colors, etc. but my camera has gone MIA.

Apparently all of the excitement from the weekend and my less than great picture taking abilities have finally caused the thing to just sprout legs and walk off. You see, we are certain it made it into the house from the garage where it was last used but, after that?

It is gone.

Vanished.

And, alas, if it does not surface within 2 weeks, 8 hours and 11 minutes, RxMan said he will have to buy me a new camera.

Wouldn't that just suck??

Romance ISN'T dead

When my husband and I were dating, life was filled with flowers, love notes and many unexpected expressions of his love.

After ten years of marriage, romance is a little hard to find amongst the clutter of a toddler and the chaos of an eight year old.

He recently told me he was bringing a surprise home. I think flowers? Candy? Jewelry?

Nope.

It was these:




Nothing says everlasting love like earplugs, do you think?

Haiku: In My Husband's Words

I love my wife, kids
but I love my Wii the most
Don't tell them that, though

I like to eat wings
Watch sci-fi and horror fims
Unbutton my pants

I leave my socks on
the floor, The toilet lid up
I belch and fart, too

I snore loudly, yes
That is what ear plugs are for
Deal with it, honey

My kids are fun toys
Disciplining not for me
Let my wife do it

I start many pro-
jects but don't finish them all
She'll complain anyway

My husband isn't really as bad as I have portrayed but...these are fairly accurate portrayals of him (sorry, honey!).

Go visit here and here for more Haiku fun!

How I Met My Honey...

How did I meet my husband? Ahh, what a story. We were both stranded in an airport during a large snowstorm and there was only one room left at the only hotel near the airport and... No, not really.

We worked together.

We both were employed by the same national pharmacy chain. He was a rookie pharmacist and I was a pharmacy technician turned manager trainee. We met at a store where he was training as a new pharmacist with the company. I hung out there a lot in my off time (loser, I know) because many of my friends worked there. One evening I stopped in for a quick visit and he was there and our eyes locked and the rest is... Nope. Nothing so magical. One evening I stopped in for a visit and met him and thought, he's kinda cute for a nerdy pharmacist. (That is also what I wrote in my journal that night, too.) I hung out until closing time and we ended up walking to our cars together and I gave him every chance in the world to ask me out or make a move but, alas, he did not seem even a wee bit interested.

So, I went home and thought little of him from that night on. That is, until I was asked to go work in a town about an hour and half from where I was living at the time. I knew from the grapevine that this is the store RxMan also worked in. He seemed really nice and at least he was a semi-familiar face and close to my age. I phoned him at work and asked him some questions about the area (I was going to move there) and he was utterly clueless as to who I was. I guess I made quite an impression, right?

I moved into my new digs (a dreadful little apartment with scary neighbors but all I could afford on my meager salary) on Thanksgiving Day and began working the next at my new store. RxMan and I worked together quite often and, as a former tech, I was a big help to him in the pharmacy. We made plans, only as friends, to go to dinner a few days after I started at the store. I was interested in him but got the impression he was not; friends worked for me because I was new to the area.

We went to the Olive Garden and ate like pigs. (Seriously. He was a friend, not a date so I didn't worry about it.) We talked and laughed and really had a great time. I thought he was a really swell guy and was going to make a great friend and I was thrilled with that. Then we went back to his really, really nice and safe apartment and watched Independence Day and drank an awful lot of alcohol.

Alcohol and two people in their early twenties? Yeah. You know where this is going, don't you?

I remember doing shots and remarking that there was no way I was going to be able to drive home even though it was barely a mile away. He assured me I could sleep on the couch. Again, the alcohol told me that he surely wasn't an ax murderer or serial killer.

Then we were standing in his tiny kitchen and we locked eyes and the next thing I know he kisses me. Really. It was one of those fireworks kisses where your stomach dances and your heart races and your breathing becomes shallow. It was really a great kiss.

I stayed that night. (Not on the couch but no hanky panky either. I swear!) In fact, I didn't ever sleep in my dingy, scary apartment again.

And that is how I met my husband.

For more stories like this, go here.

Karmic Revenge

'Member how I was making fun of my husband last week for being the sickest man alive?

Yeah, that was a mistake.

'Cause on Sunday afternoon, fate threw me and my little guy a nasty case of the stomach bug out of nowhere. It snuck into my gut and made a happy little home that put me straight onto my back where I stayed until today. (Straight onto my back, that is, after I vomited all over myself, my son and my bedroom carpeting. Any thoughts on stain removal?)

That bug?

Yeah, it was bad. And I mean bad as in badass. As in praying for death. As in crying for my mommy. (Which I did.)

I was in such sorry shape I had to call my mom and ask her to come care for my kids while I spent a great deal of time communing with my least favorite porcelain god.

And my husband, whom I insinuated was the world's biggest baby?

Took the best care of me and my little man EVAH!

Without even one "I told you so" mixed with the ginger ale and saltines.

In sickness and health, indeed.

Haiku-versary

A decade ago
Dressed in champagne silk, black tux
We pledged our love

This love has blossomed,
Grown with each passing challenge
Knit us together

We are connected
by law, God's eyes, our children
For now, forever

Thursday Thirteen #14: Anniversary Edition

Friday, March 7th is my 10th wedding anniversary.
Here is a list of 13 things I like about being married.

• Having a built-in date for functions.
  
• Having someone to kill the bugs.
  
• Having someone to mow the lawn.
  
• Having someone to sleep with.
  
• I tell my husband all the time this is why I stay married to him. I love having another person in my bed. Unfortunately, this one snores really, really loud...
• Designated driver!
• Someone to cook.
  
• I am not a cook. Fortunately, my husband is!
• Someone to set the clock on the electronics.
  
• Someone to keep me grounded.
  
• I am a spaz and a drama queen. I worry like crazy about stupid things. My husband is very easy going and keeps me sane.
  
• Someone to deal with the stuff I don't want to.
  
• Like contractors and repairmen; I hate calling these kinds of people and having to talk to them.
  
• Someone to laugh at my blog, even when it isn't funny.
  
• A shoulder to lean into and cry on.
  
• A hand to hold during good and bad times.
  
• Someone who loved me in a wedding dress and still loves me in my mismatched, threadbare pajamas, with morning breath and Medusa hair.
  

Of course, the silly ones are meant to be silly but the truth is I am blessed with a wonderful partner. Truly blessed.

Momma Gone Wild

For once in a long time, I didn't play it safe this weekend.

Despite my son having lots of sleeping issues right now, which I am 99% sure is teething (yippee!), I bit the bullet and left him and my daughter home with a sitter on Saturday evening so my husband and I could attend my friend Joanie's surprise 40th birthday party.

I almost didn't go. I was so afraid the little monster, I mean, darling would wake up and cause the poor 17 year old sitter all sorts of hell and I would be forced to return home anyway that I nearly canceled. My husband said, "he'll be fine and, if not, we can be home in 20 minutes".

So, I threw caution to the wind and reluctantly relented.

And I am so glad I did. It. was. a. Blast!

There was wine, a band, wine, food, beer, karaoke, conversation, wine, NO CHILDREN, dancing and a little wine. And I partook of it all.

And it was so good.

After the second drink, I didn't even care if the little monster, I mean, darling woke up and screamed until my boobs and I returned home. Not even a little.

After the fourth drink, I was dancing, singing and making all sorts of new friends.

After the sixth drink, I forgot I had children.

And, after the eighth drink...well, suffice it to say, I shoulda stopped at six.

The good news? My husband is still speaking to me. The puke came off the carpet and out of my hair. And my kids survived. without. me. until after midnight!

That was the best $30 in sitter money we have paid in eons.

Marriage is Tough

That is something that they forget to tell a young couple during pre-marital counseling but it's true. It is hard. Really hard sometimes. Of course, the counseling that RxMan and I had lasted all of 45 minutes and consisted of a little financial lecture, a reminder to use birth control and 30 minutes of discussing wedding minutiae. So, no, there was little talk of how irritating it can be to live with another person who is different than you.

Now, don't worry, friends. RxMan and I are not headed to Judge Wapner's courtroom. We are just having a rough patch, as he says. He is stressing because of crap at the evil empire and I am stressed from this boy child of ours who is apparently teething again. So, we take our frustrations out on one another. I bite his head off with remarks like, "If you had a brain, you'd..." or "I'm tired of being a single parent!" He, then, reciprocates with some other disparaging remarks and it's on. This happens, more often than not, in the wee hours of the morning when The Conqueror decides it is time to wake up and wave at the junk on the walls.

No one warns you how irritating this person whom you love can be once you live with them for nine years. (Okay, okay, ten. We lived in sin for a year. Or more.) RxMan snores. Really. Really. Loud. Really. He doesn't do anything the easy way. He can't remember anything. But, he is an excellent cook, helps out around the house and is a wonderful daddy. And he always puts the seat down! Sometimes, though, it is really hard to remember those good things when I am tired and frustrated. And, believe me, I know I am no ball of sunshine to live with. I am disorganized. I am critical. I am messy. And, I know these things are equally irritating to him. Heck, they're irritating to me!

I just feel like couples should be reminded that marriage isn't always romance, sex and happiness. Sometimes it is fighting over money (or lack thereof!), arguing over the laundry, or mowing the lawn. I don't feel I was sold a bad bill of goods, though, by any stretch. I feel very blessed to have married the greatest guy I know and will fight tooth and nail to save my marriage in the event that it is in jeopardy.

So, I am going to try to remember that I need to be more aware of what I am saying. Even at 4:30 in the morning. I am going to try to not get frustrated with his short-temperedness because 98% of that is because of a couple idiots that he works with and the company in general.

You see, even though I think marriage is difficult. It is a good difficult. It is having someone to watch movies with on a Friday evening in your mismatched, ripped pjs. It is having someone to share two beautiful children with. It is knowing that if you are sad, he'll be sad, too. Marriage is the hardest and best thing I have ever done and I owe it to myself, RxMan and my children to work harder at it than I have been.

Do you ever wonder what if...?

On Monday evening, my mother gave me a copy of an advertisement that my high school boyfriend (now a Chiropractor) had mailed out. It was a full-sized sheet of paper, front and back, detailing some crazy new back crackin' machine that he has at his office. Included in this were glowing recommendations from patients who can now walk pain free, etc. (Okay, is this machine Jesus or something?) There was also a picture of former boyfriend working said machine. Okay, here's the thing.

HE'S BALDING.

Am I really old enough to have a former flame who is balding? Surely not. The picture was very poor quality and grainy but it was obvious that Dr. Boyfriend islosinghishair and rightquick. So, I chuckled and pointed with my mother; saved the ad for my friend who lives in Toledo to see and thought nothing else of it.

Until I went to sleep. Isn't it strange how your mind works? I was sleeping along, minding my own business when WHAM! Dr. Boyfriend shows up in my freakin' dream. Now, I don't know about you but I dream in living, vibrant color. RxMan's new Sony LCD has nothing on the real-life, 3-D quality of my dreams.

Get your head out of the gutter, though. There was nothing beyond G ratings in my dream; we were back in high school in class and a myriad of other old faces show up. It was a nice little reunion- now I don't have to go to my 15th (gasp!) next summer. So, very soon, The Conqueror wails out and my sleep is interrupted. However, a seed was planted.

A few times yesterday, I found myself remembering my dream and the inevitable question arose: What if? What if he and I were married now? My gut reaction? (After the vomiting.) It would have been a disaster; see, Dr. and I were not nice to each other. In high school, I liked him but was embarrassed by his dorkiness. And the fact he thought he was Batman. No, really. He did. Think. He. Was. Batman. (do you get why it didn't work out?) So, I ignored him. And taunted him. And did kinda mean things to him. Like make fun of him for saying he loved me. As I said, not very nice.

Then I broke up with him and (you know how this goes), suddenly, I wished I hadn't. Thus began an infatuation that lasted the better part of the next 2 or 3 years. We went off to college and remained friends. We visited each other occasionally and all was innocent until the kegs were tapped. He led me on and I fell for it. Over and over. And over. Again. He told me on several occasions that he was crappy to me because of my treatment of him back in high school. Still, I hoped.

Finally, I got tired of giving him advice about other girls and got on with life. Always, though, there was that smallest little inkling of hope and affection. Maybe someday, right???

Well, as you know, life took a different turn for me. I met RxMan and, as is said, the rest is history. So, what if.... I am perfectly content with my life as it is. I have a great husband in the RxMan and two rotten, wonderful kiddos, too.

As Garth Brooks sang, "Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers...."