Divorce? Never. Murder? Maybe.

Today is 21 years married for Joe and I. Our marriage is finally of legal age. It’s not the awkward, shaky, unstable thing it was when it first started. Don’t get me wrong, it was never in danger. That’s the little miracle about me and Joe. We’ve never doubted that we were supposed to be with each other. He’s the most honest person I’ve ever met and he’s said the same thing to me since I was 19 and he was 21, “there’s no one else for me” – and I believe him.

But loving him all the time and liking him all the time are not the same things. I was away this week for a work trip and when I got back he said,” I really missed you this time. This one was hard.” And I totally got it. I really missed him too. There are some work weeks that I’m skipping out of this house. Excited to have some alone time. Excited to not hear about his day. Excited to have a big, fat bed all to myself at night. And I’m sure he’s equally excited to not to have me around. Doesn’t mean the marriage is ending. It just means we’re human.

This past year I started going through some…..let’s say hormonal transitions. Although I didn’t have the usual signs and signals. Mine came in the form of exploding as soon as he told the same joke he’s been telling for 21 years. Or losing my patience and my mind as he used 50,000 words to tell a 500 word story, get to the point for God’s sake!  Also, if I have to hear about the grass on his lawn or the ill-managed roads in our township one more time I’m going to go postal. 

But I’m no gem either, lucky for me  he doesn’t have a blog so you’ll never know why!

All that said, I wouldn’t want to celebrate this anniversary with anyone else. Death – by each other’s hand or nature – will be the only way we leave each other. Romantic right?

Here’s to many many more years of our perfectly imperfect marriage. xoxo.
 


 

 

 

 

Shaking sh&t up

These past few months have been a cocoon of work and home and work. The biggest excitement I’ve had is finding a new show to watch (Atlanta!). Other than that it’s been the usual post holiday hibernation. Which I actually love.

But not today. Today I shook sh&t up.

That’s what my husband calls it. We’ve done it before.

Hey we’re in our 20s and have no prospects for the future… let’s have a baby!

Hey there’s a new job that requires us to uproot our family and move to a town where we don’t know anyone…let’s do it!

Hey husband…you should leave your crappy but stable job and start your own business!

You get the point.

So at 5:15pm today I went for it.

Only this time it wasn’t as crazy as moving or quitting my job.

I got a haircut. A big big haircut.

Like all my hair gone haircut.

This is what the salon looked like afterwards. Like a hair crime scene.


It was so much hair that other stylists came over to talk to my stylist.

“I never get to have fun like that,” they said

“Ugh! My person wanted an 8th of an inch taken off,” they cried

Not me. You could have made a tiny wig with my leftover hair.

Why you ask? What made me do it?  I truthfully decided on getting this cut about 2 weeks ago.

Here’s the part where I share the story and you try hard to not think I’m crazy.

For the 25+ years I’ve known my husband he’s tried to get me jewelry. Sometimes it’s completely right-on. Most times it’s…off. This is not news for him to hear. I’m good at a lot of things, but one of them is not pretending. My face shows all my truths instantly. He’s had his heart-broken by my narly look after many an important gift giving moment. Christmas morning. Birthday dinner. Valentines…you get it. I’m horrible. As you can also imagine after years of this kind of emotional gamble – he’s stopped. And I’m totally ok with it. And actually our gift giving to each other has kind of faded. Which sounds sad but it’s not. It’s awesome. It’s a relief. Judging yet? It’s ok. I’d judge us too.

But two weeks ago he surprised me with a set of beautiful, dreamy, totally me earrings. These earrings were made for me. They are simply the best gift I’ve ever gotten from him. The. Best. Almost like he’s waited for a decade to get me the perfect gift.

Cut to today. I started thinking about Thursday, when I’ve asked him to take me and my earrings out for dinner. I can’t wait. But something was off. You couldn’t really see my earrings because my hair had gotten super long and super out of control.

So I decided there was only one thing to do. Chop my hair.

When I showed my husband he laughed and said,”Look at you. Shaking sh&t up”

Yep. Always. Just like you taught me.




 

 

 

 

 

Fire Rooster


Happy Chinese New Year to all!

Remember last year when I was so super excited about the Year of the Monkey?

https://wordpress.com/post/wifemothereventplanner.com/6666

Well 2016 lived up to all the hype. Like a monkey it was full of energy, erratic and sometimes scary and full of surprises.

But Rooster. I have high hopes for Rooster. I know I don’t have to capitalize the word Rooster – put your red pens away. But I’m just trying to give it the respect it deserves.


Last year I went to a flea market and found a little monkey holding a banana. I brough him home and put in my kitchen and prayed that he’d bring me luck. And he did.  The monkey may have caused havoc in the world but for my little world – it was a good year.

When I think of 2016 I’ll think of  Kera and all her friends graduating. I’ll think of all the beautiful weddings we were lucky enough to be a part of – Keith and Danielle, Herb and Larry, Marcello and Lorraine, Sweta and Wendall.

I’ll think of my friend Sarah who welcomed little Charlie. I’ll think of my baby boy becoming a teen and celebrating 20 years of marriage with my guy.

That’s what I’ll think about.

So Rooster – Fire Rooster. Sign of dawn and awakening. Sign of hard work and justice. Sign of logic and reason.

I’ve always loved roosters. I know you’re going to think I’m crazy – but I have them all over the house. In fact this past Christmas, my secret Santa even gave me a rooster cookie cutter (Thank you Ty!). I’m not sure I ever thought about why I loved them. But I’ll take some logic, reason and justice. I’ll take being more grounded.

So let’s go people. Time to wake up. Time to get to work. Fire Rooster is here.

 

 

 

Dear 50’s housewife, it gets better

I read this article someone reposted from an old lifestyle magazine.

Then for laughs I rewrote it. Let me know if there’s any other advice that should be in there. Click link below.

tips-to-look-after-your-husband

The loud apology

I love a good apology. It makes me feel good to hear. I even feel good when I’m the one that’s apologizing –  and I’m always happy when I hear about others mending fences.

I grew up in a quiet house where there was no fighting. Just undercover seething and anger. My husband grew up in a loud house. With lots of raised voices and disagreements. Both not great. When we got married we vowed to be different, we weren’t really. We fought. He yelled, I seethed. And then one of us would apologize, we’d vow to never to do it again (silly) and we’d move on.

When we had kids we vowed again to be different – and we were….for a while. But the reality of life is that you will get mad. You’ll say things you don’t mean. You’ll be hurtful, or will get your feelings hurt. But now the kids are there. They’d hear all the anger, all the harsh things that each of us would say in the heat of the moment. And of course we’d apologize to each other eventually. We’d move on. But it would be done very differently than the fight. It would be done quietly. Softly. Usually out of earshot of the kids. I’m not sure that was the right thing to do.

Wouldn’t it have been great for our kids to hear us apologize as loudly as we fought?  I mean, they figured it out, they knew things were better but they didn’t see how they got better.

Channeling my inner Carrie Bradshaw I ask this simple question…”Why aren’t we as loud with our apologies as we are with our fights”?

Although come to think of it – my kids are pretty quick to apologize. And they aren’t ax murderers yet, so maybe it wasn’t all bad.

Ok. Sorry. Nevermind.

I mean SORRY!!!!

 

 

Till dragons and zombies do us part?

Dear Joe,

It’s been a great marriage. We laugh. We cry. Mostly I cry. We love our kids. We love our family. You’ve given me a life of joy. Joy of music. Joy of food. And most importantly, joy of TV. That’s right TV. You and I, we’ve been inseparable in our TV watching. Remember the summer we watched every Woody Allen movie ever made? How about when we discovered House of Cards together? I even watched Jaws 3 with you. Jaws 3! Nothing could sever our TV bond. You were my partner in crime. And drama. And comedy.

But something happened. I started noticing a cooling a few years ago, but tried to ignore it. We were working our way through season 1 of Game of Thrones. You and me, together. And then…the finale. Baby dragons. And just like that, you were out. You couldn’t do it. Not even Peter Dinklage’s one liners could bring you back. So I went on without you. Through the red wedding and Joffrey’s death. I was sad to be without you, but I told myself that it’s ok, it’s healthy to have independant TV lives.

The next blow was Zombies. You won’t do zombies. I tried to plead my case. It’s more than just stabbing people in the brain. It’s a love story. A story of survival and connection. But alas you left me alone with Rick, Daryl and Glen.  I missed you but I also started noticing something. Something terrible.

I realized that since I could watch those shows without waiting for you, there was no limit to my binging! 6am binge? Why not! The world was my oyster. The Wire. Preacher. Six Feet Under. I couldn’t believe how great it was to be this free. This…TV single.

But what about us? I worried this would be the end of our happy TV life together. Oh we’ve had issues in the past. Your sheer hatred for Everybody Loves Raymond  and The Pioneer Woman almost did us in. But we got through it. We found Cops together. Actually the kids started watching Cops and then we would watch together as a family. My point is….we survived. We didn’t let that break us.

But now, I’m worried again. I mean we have CBS Sunday Morning and 60 Minutes together, and we’ll always have our memories – Breaking Bad, Sopranos, and ofcourse – season 1 and 2 of Orange is the New Black. But what about the future?

Stranger Things was off to a good start but then…a monster.And you were out again. But need I remind you that ET was fantastical? And that there is no such thing as a Death Star or a final frontier?

What I’m saying to you is…I don’t want TV us to be over. I want to work it out. Last night we started The Night Of together. Let’s defy the odds and make it all the way! You promised that we’d be together in our TV watching our whole lives. Remember? Growing old together in front of the TV, with our dinner trays?  That was the dream. And it can be again.

Narcos season 2 is on its way. And Peaky Blinders …. let’s not forget Peaky Blinders.

What I’m trying to say is – I’m not going to give up on you. On TV us.

Love,

Your binge-watching-zombie-loving-dragon-believing wife.

 

 

 

GoT Speak

Sorry about the acronym. Do you watch Game of Thrones (GoT)? You don’t? Why? Are you reading or parenting or something? You need to watch.

For those of you who do watch, maybe you’ll agree with me here. Not since Breaking Bad has a show had this much impact on my daily language (Yo Mista White…). I basically have either emojis or GoT dialogue in my head all day.

My gut reaction when new people introduce themselves to me is to say ,” a girl has no name.” Or how about when I sneak an extra cookie from the cookie jar and say to myself,” shame…shame…shame…” as I walk back to the couch.  Or when I say, “You know nothing Jon Snow” in my head every time I’m mad at my husband. Seriously. That’s not normal.

Last night my son, who is almost finished with 6th grade, showed me what he got from school that day. He’d won an award for physical fitness. In our house, we show-off all good grades, artwork, etc. on our bulletin board in the kitchen. We’ve done it with both kids since they were little. Usually they both mildly object but deep down I know they love it.

That said, I knew this award meant more to him then a good grade. He prides himself on keeping active and fit and I knew he was so thrilled to get this in front of his friends.

But then I noticed something…

 
A tear. A little corner was ripped off and then taped back.

“What happened to it?” I asked.

“This kid grabbed it from me and tore it.” he said matter-of-factly.

“What? Why? When? Where was the teacher? Who was it? What’s his name?” I could not contain my anger.

In that moment I completely channeled my inner Cersei from GoT. Even though she’s mostly evil and unequivocally messed up – I wished in that moment that I had the The Mountain next to me and I could have said,” I choose violence.”

Because I did. I do.

For those who don’t watch the show – this week, in a pivotal scene, after those lines are uttered – a man’s head is basically popped off like a bottle cap.

Terrible. Awful. Why would that be what pops in my head?

This world is violent enough and it’s the last thing that I should be thinking about, but oh would I love to have a moment with that little twerp. His parents are probably wolves.

This is when my husband would turn to me and say his favorite one liner (his own),” When did you get so angry?”

To which I always say,” You alright! I learned it by watching you!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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