Lucky 13 - Our Anniversary

I used to consider myself a hopeless romantic.  I believed in true love, soul mates, everlasting devotion, kissing in the rain . . .  the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap . . . oh, wait.  That was from Bull Durham.  

Moving on . . .  


Now that Hubby and I have been married 13 years, I realize that all those things exist, but not without a lot of effort on the part of Husband and Wife.  (Or Husband and Husband, or Wife and Wife, or wherever your life leads you.)  Hubby and I are not overly demonstrative in our devotion to one another, and my not-so-secret plan to smother him in his sleep when he p*sses me off has been well-documented.  (Mostly this means that I'm going to have to come up with another plan . . . )  My point?  True love is tough to maintain.


The following poem is not gushy, mushy, sappy romantic, but I have always loved it.  Anyone who has read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day knows that this woman knows of what she speaks.  


So on the occasion of our 13th Wedding Anniversary, (which was 2 days ago,) I am dedicating my favorite love poem to the man who calls me 15 times a day to ask me to get his dry cleaning, remind me when the contractor will be arriving, make sure I call the insurance company, ask me to run by the bank, announce that he needs razors, tell me he loves me.






TRUE LOVE
- Judith Viorst


It is true love because
I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day
Even when there's no one here but him,
And because
I do not resent watching the Green Bay Packers
Even though I am philosophically opposed to football,
And because
When he is late for dinner and I know he must be either having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,
I always hope he's dead.

It's true love because
If he said quit drinking martinis but I kept drinking them and the next morning I couldn't get out of bed,
He wouldn't tell me he told me,
And because
He is willing to wear unironed undershorts
Out of respect for the fact that I am philosophically opposed to ironing,
And because
If his mother was drowning and I was drowning and he had to choose one of us to save,
He says he'd save me.

It's true love because
When he went to San Francisco on business while I had to stay home with the painters and the exterminator and the baby who was getting the chicken pox,
He understood why I hated him,
And because
When I said that playing the stock market was juvenile and irresponsible and then the stock I wouldn't let him buy went up twenty-six points,
I understood why he hated me,
And because
Despite cigarette cough, tooth decay, acid indigestion, dandruff, and other features of married life that tend to dampen the fires of passion,
We still feel something
We can call
True love. 

The Birds and the Bees: An Update

http://seemikedraw.wordpress.com/

Well, we did it. 

And this time, when I say “we,” I mean Hubby. 

Last weekend, I was in the basement hiding out organizing when I heard insatiable laughter coming from upstairs.  I listened carefully and discovered that Hubby was telling the boys, ages 8 and 6, about the Birds and the Bees.

So I thought, I’ll go upstairs and join the conversation like a mature adult and prove to our offspring that we are a true partnership, husband and wife, co-parents in every sense of the word. 

Hahhahaahahahaa!

Whew, that was funny.  Let me pause and wipe this tear from my eye! 

Um, no.  I thought aw hayl no.  I’m staying down here.

A while later, the boys came downstairs to see what I was doing, and I was sure I was going to be barraged with laughter, snickers, and possibly pointing fingers and hushed whispers.  At the very least, I thought they would look at me in disgust at the inhumanities they had just discovered their mother partakes in.

But no.  Not a peep. 

When I got the lowdown from Hubby, he said he explained it all in an age-appropriate manner -  he discussed how girls and boys are different, things that might be happening with their bodies in a few years, how exactly a male and female do the S-E-X, and all that scientific technical stuff about sperm and eggs and whatnot. 

A few nights later, as I was getting the boys ready for their bath, Large got the giggles.  Reminiscent of that scene from Kindergarten Cop, he said to me “boys have penises and girls have vaginas.”

“I know,” was all I could think of to say. 

Medium chimed in.  “Mom!” he said.  “Lean down.  I need to whisper you something.”

I leaned down and he whispered, “Daddy told us where babies come from.”

“That’s good,” I said, because I’m all good with the words when I’m nervous and/or uncomfortable. 

“Why is that good?” he asked, confused.

“Well, now you know,” was my response.  “And you don’t have to wonder any more.” 

So that was it.  Hubby reminded them that where-babies-come-from is not an appropriate topic of discussion on the bus, at school, at Cub Scouts, at basketball practice, etc.  Just as a courtesy, however, I did send an email to my neighbor whose son plays with Large, just in case they get any questions of the bird and bee variety.  It’s funny though . . . he hasn’t been over to play in a while.

I'm On to You, Brangelina!

I’ve been “Team Jen” since Brad Pitt left Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie.  I didn’t believe it for a second when Angelina claimed she would never steal someone else’s husband.  Um, you’re an actress . . . you’ll say anything and make it seem believable. 

When I was recently catching up with the important news topics via the scion of journalistic integrity known as Us Weekly, I read the article entitled “Getting Married!” by Rachel Paula Abrahamson, about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.  If it's written in Us Weekly, surely it must be true.

I give you my thoughts regarding said article:

 

1.  It annoys me to no end that Brad and Angelina are finally “giving in” and planning to get married.  It seems they’ll have a low-key ceremony because they think “a big splashy wedding is tacky.”  You know what?  SOME of us are only planning on having ONE wedding in our lifetime . . . so, yes, I wanted a little splash.  Furthermore, I'm a little surprised that someone who once wore a vial of Billy Bob’s blood as a piece of jewelry and announced to a news crew that they’d just finished having “relations” in the back of a limousine is now giving lessons in tact.

2.  According to the article, “Marrying at home will show the kids their mom and dad are committed to each other for the long term.”  You know what else would have shown them that?  Getting married first and procreating later.  I’m guessing their respective former spouses at one point thought they’d be together “for the long term” as well.  I realize marriage is not for everyone, and I know there are plenty of committed, unmarried, couples who are raising their families.  But one thing my mom always told me was to wait a little while before we started our family so that we could learn how to be married first.  Based on their collective track records, I’m not convinced this is a skill they have mastered.

3.  States Jolie, “when Brad and I decided to have a large family, we decided we’d only do it if we could . . .  take the kids with us.”  That's sweet.  It’s sort of like trying to decide whether to pack a light jacket for an extended trip.

4.  The article goes on to note that “Jolie planned their family outings herself . . . “  Big f*cking deal.  It’s called being a mother and the rest of us do it every day.  The same paragraph notes that she made sure the children were all wearing sun screen.  Well, that certainly IS newsworthy.

5.  Brad is busy remodeling Chateau Miraval in France, including an infinity pool, a helicopter pad, and a recording studio, and it is “Pitt’s baby.  Angie was happy to let him get on with it.”  Yeah, I let my husband watch Sports Center on the big TV when I feel like being nice.

6.  But this was my favorite part of the article: they prioritize date nights alone.  I wonder: do they squeeze in their alone time in between baseball practice, swimming lessons, visits to the dentist, library story time, and pediatrician appointments?  What happens if they get a phone call in the middle of their romantic dinner because someone has an earache?  Do they take leisurely, romantic strolls hand-in-hand because the mini-van is out of gas?  We prioritize date night too, but mostly it ends up with us watching Deadliest Catch and having a beer on the couch in our family room.  Cheers, baby.

My bullsh*t meter is going haywire.  Stars!  They’re Just Like Us!  Nope, they’re not.  I don’t have A nanny, let alone several.  In my opinion, (not that anyone asked, but that rarely stops me from providing it, free of charge,) I don’t think they are providing the stability for their family that they would have the public believe, and I don’t immediately think they’re great parents because their kids say thank you.  (Which is also, apparently, breaking news.)  

For the record, I bought the magazine because I wanted to read about William and Catherine’s royal visit.  Them, I adore. 

The BoyMommy Guide to Romance

First, I need to make an ammendment to yesterday's blog post, as THIS is what happened at Target this morning:

I'm sure they clean these things after each use, right?

OKAY, so the topic du jour . . . in the spirit of post-Valentine romance, I offer you The BoyMommy Guide to Romance.  (Because who better to give you love advice than a perpetually exhausted mother of three who has been married for 12 years?)

1. Communicate with each other throughout the day.  I’ll call Hubby at work and seductively greet him with “Hello, Lover.”  Then one of two things will happen: I either identify myself as his wife, lest he have me confused with another caller; or, he replies with “Barbara?  I told you not to call me at work.”  [I realized after the original post that I need to establish that my name is, in fact, NOT Barbara.]
2. Make an effort to look nice for each other.  Sometimes I stay in my daytime clothes until bedtime, instead of putting my sweat pants on at 4:30 in the afternoon.  Because I’m sexy like that.
3. Recognize your partner’s contributions to your relationship.  For instance, if Hubby and I weren’t married, I wouldn’t own an ENORMOUS television and he wouldn’t own a really fabulous chandelier!
4. Leave each other sweet little love notes.     

5.  Use “I” statements in order to avoid placing blame on the other.  “I find you annoying right now"    sounds so much more pleasant than “You are annoying me."

6.  Set a good example for the kids.  Just yesterday, Medium told me, “I love you like old people love chicken.”  It’s important that the children learn how to love.

7.  Laugh with one another.  We leave little toys in compromising situations.

8.  Give romantic gifts.  Nothing says I love you like a mini fridge or a steam cleaner.

9.  Surprise each other.  Just the other day I came home with brand new nail clippers for my beloved, just because I was thinking of him while I was at the Walgreens.

10.  Use special nicknames for each other, but don’t call each other names.  I was very grateful on the day that someone asked Large what Daddy calls Mommy.  His answer was “Hey Babe.”  It could have been SO many other things if our relationship were different. 

So there you have it  . . . the BoyMommy strategies for keeping the love alive.  You're welcome.