37 years… That’s how old (young?) I am, and I HOPE I’ve learned a thing or two during my almost 4 decades.

I’ve been married twice and had five boys along the way. I can’t say that my first marriage was completely wrong. I got two beautiful and amazing boys out of it, but if I am being honest, we weren’t suited.  I was young, and I thought marriage was the right thing to do.  After all, I was having a baby with the guy, so marriage is a given, right?  Well let me tell ya… you don’t have to be married to be good parents.  What you do have to do is keep your head on straight and understand that a pregnancy doesn’t equal love.

I won’t say that I didn’t love my ex either. I did, but looking back it isn’t the kind of love I have for Roy, my current husband.  There was a companionship, at one time, with my ex.  But while I certainly consider Roy my best friend, more importantly he is my lover, my confidant, my protector, the father of my children, and so very much more.

I can tell you the exact moment I knew I would fall in love with Roy.  I can also tell you the exact moment I let myself fall in love with him.  After 13 years, I remember our first date, our second, our third, and so many after that.  I remember what it was like the first time we slept together, and I remember how heartbreaking our first big fight was.

There was one time when Roy thought I didn’t have his back.  A young lady we were both friends with accused him of not treating me well (she was very wrong), and I didn’t shut her down fast enough.  He was heart broken and wanted to break up. (I know, young love, right?) For just a moment, I felt like my heart was breaking, but we worked it out.

I remember what it was like when we found out I was pregnant with Addi, and I remember how in awe Roy was the first time he held him.  I remember bringing him home, and getting ready to move out of Roy’s parents house into our first house.  I remember our first big family trips (Germany and Disney World!) and how terrified I was to get on the plane, but Roy held my hand and wiped my tears, never saying one word.  He didn’t ridicule my fear, nor did he try to brush them away. He simply held my hand and told me he was there.

I remember finding out I was pregnant with Hayden (on one of those big trips), and then moving to our new house.  I remember convincing him to have another baby, and I remember our joint frustration when getting pregnant with Dean seemed to take so long (about a year).  I remember his worry when I had problems with my last pregnancy, his frustration with the doctors since they couldn’t find the cause, and his relief when I delivered a healthy little boy (we didn’t mind having ‘another’ boy; we just wanted a healthy baby).

And I remember the little things.  The first time he kissed me, what he wore on our first date, the way he caught my eye as my dad walked me down the aisle, and his whispered words to me as he took my hand.  I remember the twinkle in his eyes when we share a private joke, and how he looks right before he starts laughing.

I remember the first time he met Corey and Joey and the easy way he took to them, and the way they took to him.

I see the pride in his eyes when one of the older boys (any of the boys, really) says, “I love you, Dad.” to him, and the happiness he feels when he knows they mean it.

And every day, I see the love on his face when he smiles at me.  I feel the tenderness in his kiss when he kisses me good night.

He is a wonderful father, a great husband, and a good provider.  But marriage is more than just 'the basics.’  So when you meet a man that makes you feel all of this and more.  When you meet a man that gets you without you saying a word.  When you meet a man that loves you for who are you, NOT for who you MIGHT become… THAT is the man you marry.

Until then, just be you.  Love yourself, your friends and know that love will find you, you don’t need to search it out with your every breath.  You might have to take a chance and open your heart, you might have to trust your gut… but when you know, you KNOW.  

First, please excuse any misspellings, between this new keyboard and my fake nails, I might have a tough time. That said, Marriage, could it be anymore fun.

I adore my husband, I do…I love the man more everyday. Yes, sounds cliched, but I have found it true. There are days when he will do something, sweet or kind with one of our sons and my heart skips a beat. BUT, I have also discovered that the man I married is flawless, now don’t get me wrong, I know noone is perfect and I certainly don’t think my husband is, but somehow HE believes he is.

For instance, the other day…he is pushing up on me, I am PMSing I am exhausted (we do have four little boys, two dogs of our own and we were watching my in-laws two dogs) I asked him nicely, “Honey, please stop, and let me get dressed.” He walked away, said I was a total bitch and slammed our bathroom door. About an hour later, I jokingly said that he had ‘issues’ he asked what that was supposed to mean…I said, well you are sarcastic and you can be rude, his reply…"Yeah, cause I have to deal with you.“ IS it that sarcasm he is famous for, or am I truly the cause of all our marital strife? If so, how is a person like me…can be a bitch at times, tired, exhausted, slightly chubby with sagging boobs…supposed to deal with being married to a perfect man?

There are times I don’t think I can…deal with it that is. He works hard and has made many sacrifices for this family, which can cause me to pull up that mental scorecard I find myself keeping in my heart. He did this for the family, have I made a sacrifice on par with his. Was mine more worthy of note than his was? If not, how can I play the martyr?

Bottom line, I can’t. It isn’t in my nature. I can joke about it, and even resent him sometimes, but in the end my pride in my husband rules out any need to keep track of who is better at the martyr game.

I was always Team Jennifer (Aniston). She was my favorite “friend,” I love her hair, blah, blah, blah. And yesterday she said something that really makes a hell of a lot of sense.

To paraphrase: Our worth as women shouldn’t be defined by marriage or having children.

I agree=100%!

Kids aren’t for everyone, marriage isn’t for everyone, and it’s great that people know this. They recognize this and are ok with it. I adore my boys, I love being a mom, but not everyone thinks like me, and why should they?

But it goes both ways. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard, “OH, I could never just sit around all day.” When people find out I’m a SAHM.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve had people ask me if Roy allows me to do certain things. He makes the money, so somehow that makes me less of a partner. For the record, no I don’t need to talk to Roy and get his permission to run to the store.

I can’t tell you how many times I;ve had people explain to me current events, political agendas or told me who someone was, because apparently being a SAHM means I can only watch cartoons and read Dr. Seuss.

This boils down to respect-on both sides. Just as some aren’t defined by their decision to NOT have kids, I’m not defined by my decision TO have children. I love being a mom, but it isn’t all I am.

I’m a wife, a friend, a sister, a daughter.

I’m a writer, but most importantly, I’m an adult. I take (or try to anyways) responsibility for my decision and at the end of the day, I’m happy with who I am and what my choices in life have been.

I’ve been told by numerous people, read many articles, and even wondered myself if it was smart to consider Roy my best friend. This all came to a head a few years ago when we went through something that tested our marriage-I was furious with him, and yet when I’m upset he’s the person I go to. For advice, comfort, or just a sympathetic ear.  HOW could I do that when I was so mad at him?

That situation shed a light on what was lacking in my life-female friends, so I put myself out there and made some. 

And yet, if I look at my marriage, REALLY look at it, I would be lying if I said, Roy wasn’t ALSO my best friend.  Now, that isn’t the only niche he fills. He is my husband, the father of our children, he provides for us, cares for us. He’s my lover, and if I didn’t believe in them before, I do now-my soul mate.

BUT, he’s also my best friend. Best friends argue, we fight, and sometimes we don’t speak for a time-I do all that with Roy.

He’s my confidant, my ally, and though we don’t always agree, I NEVER for one second doubt that he has my back, and I believe he feels the same way about me.

About five years ago, we went down to my inlaws for a quick visit, and I got very sick. So sick, Roy had to rush me to the ER. Once we got back to their house, and he had tucked me into bed for some sleep, he went downstairs. Hours later I woke up and was about to leave the room when I heard him talking to his mother. She expressed worry that Roy and I didn’t have more friends, that we rarely did things without the other. She worried that should something happen to one of us the other would be crushed-and while I understand her worry, I kinda wanted to say, "NO DUH.“

I LOVE my husband. I love him more today than I did 18 years ago, and I have no doubt I will love him more tomorrow. After almost 20 years together, he still does things that surprises me. Seeing his smile, hearing his laughter, still gives me butterflies, and now it’s even better, because I know what to expect, I know what’s in store for me. IF something every happened to him, I would be crushed-that’s a given.

But I also know that I have family and friends I could turn too. I know that I would get the love and support I needed, and the same for him.

Perhaps we are lucky, in that we have such a close marriage. Maybe I simply hit the jackpot when I said yes.

I remember reading something a few years ago:

Just because YOU don’t think there’s a problem, doesn’t mean there isn’t a problem.

Basically the author meant that in a relationship-whether it be a marriage, dating, friendship, parenting, whatever-if ONE person thinks there’s a problem-there’s a problem.

It might be as simple as a misunderstanding.  I thought Roy was being a jerk, but he was just kidding around.  At the very least he didn’t get the joke across and now I am offended.

And I try to live by that.  Just because I didn’t mean to hurt someone’s feelings doesn’t meant I didn’t.

Just because I didnt’ mean to annoy you, doesn’t mean I didn’t.

And to be honest, most of the time things can be cleared up with a simple, I’m sorry.

One thing that bugs the crap out of me is spoilers.  (No, I’m not changing topics, bear with me.) Now, at certain times I don’t mind…I might even read in depth reviews of a certain movie, but not everyone is like me.  So on FB the other day, a woman gave away a HUGE plot point of a movie that had literally come out that very same day.  A number of people called her on it.

Comments ranged from, NO…why did you give it away?  To, wow you are the worst person ever…you suck.

Now, of course she isn’t the worst person ever, but the fact remains that a lot of people were annoyed.  And when she read said comments her response was…

“God all you people are stupid, it’s just a movie.”

Well, a number of people left the mommy group that this was posted on. And again, the person that posted the spoiler doesn’t seem to realize that it was probably more about her inability to simply say, “Oops, my bad.  Sorry” and refrain from insulting people, as opposed to the fact that she posted a spoiler in the first place.

And that’s the kicker for me.  NOT everyone thinks the same way, not everyone functions the same way.  And in the end, especially if it’s nothing more than a simple misunderstand, what does it cost you to apologize to clear the air?

I’m not talking about a serious issue-if you cheat on your spouse, chances are a simple “Sorry” isn’t going to be enough.

But, if your spouse thinks you are flirting, and you hurt their feeling….what’s more important?  Proving them wrong, or trying to understand what hurt their feelings in the first place so that you can discuss it and move forward?

No, Roy does not flirt with random women in front of me and he has never cheated on me…but that was an easy example to illustrate my point.

What also gets my goat is that often times the very people that can’t admit any wrong doing on their part are often the same people that scream, “WHOA is me!” when they are the ‘victim’ of a slight. 

Hypocrisy is just as annoying as spoilers.

There was a time when it was acceptable for a young woman’s dream to be a mother and a wife.  There was a time when it was ok for a young man to want what we now think of as a traditional lifestyle.

When did these things become a bad thing?

I’m not saying the general consensus is that people should strive for more than a family and a marriage, but there is the idea that ENCOURAGING young people to have ‘only’ those dreams is somehow wrong.

The other day on “Glee” (and I’m not saying Glee is the role model for healthy relationships) Rachel tells Finn (for this example it doesn’t truly matter if you know who I’m talking about) that if he doesn’t want to go to NYC (Her big dream) she is willing to wait and stay with him in Ohio.

A reviewer of the episode seemed offended by that.  She believes that the creators of the hit show are telling young woman that giving up your dream for a boy is the right thing to do.

I’m looking at it a bit differently. 

I mentioned in another post, that marriage isn’t really about compromise, it’s about sacrifice.  What people imply is a compromise in a relationship is often one person sacrificing what they want for whatever reason.  But if you look up the definition of these two words, well, I think people say compromise because it sounds better-whether it’s the right word or not.

Sacrifice implies a loser.  It implies that one person is the winner, for whatever reason.

But you know what…so what?

In the end, that’s what life is about.  Sacrifice, learning to make a decision based on a big picture rather than simply living for right here and now. 

And it seems to me, that we’ve gotten so focused on our kids 'reaching their potential.’ that we forget to tell them that the human element is just as important.

Reaching the 'top’ is wonderful, but do you do so at the cost of love, family and friendship?

Is it worth it to 'be the best’ if you have no one by your side to celebrate with?  How much worse would the failures be if you have no on there to hold your hand, no one to turn to?

What will it do to our children if we push them down a road that is only filled with heartache?

Look, I’m not saying settle, I don’t believe that is necessary for anyone, but I don’t think a young woman/man willing to sacrifice for someone they love means they are giving up on their dreams.

I think it means they realize that they aren’t the center of the world. 

I like to think ,and perhaps I am naive, that Roy’s success means just a little bit more to him knowing he did it with a family that adores him.  I believe that Roy is just that much prouder knowing he is where he, and along the way to this level he nurtured a relationship that is thriving.  I hope he doesn’t think he settled.

And I hope he knows that when I stopped coaching I didn’t do it because he liked the idea of me being home full time.  I didn’t do it for him, and now he 'owes’ me.  I hope I’ve conveyed my joy, my love and appreciation for him enough, and I hope he realizes that realigning my dreams so that they mesh better with our goals doesn’t mean I look at my life as one I simply 'settled’ for.

About ten years ago, I looked into the Big Brother/Big Sister program.  I was told that I wouldn’t be a 'good fit’ for the traditional program because I didn’t have a job.  I was offended.  For me the implication was that since I wasn’t earning a paycheck I was unworthy of being the friend of a young girl that needs one.  Because I didn’t earn a paycheck, perhaps my brain had atrophied and was only good for cooking and cleaning, I wasn’t possibly intelligent enough to help a young lady with homework, to hold her hand if the boys she liked didn’t like her back or to simply be a shoulder to cry on.

And yet, I look at my life now, and I can honestly say that I’ve done a lot I’m proud of.  I didn’t give up on my dreams, I simply reevaluated them and made choices that better fit who I became as I grew up.  And I think that’s a pretty good lesson to teach our young people too.

A little girl is often thought of as playing “house” when she is little.  People imagine that she dreams of her wedding day.  She and her friends will play “marriage” and take turns being the bride.  As they grow up, become a teenager, we imagine them talking with their friends about the type of wedding they want - their colors, what type of wedding dress they want, what song they will dance to for their first dance.  And they start imagining if the boy they are dating would be a good husband, a good father.

We want our daughters to fall in love with a good person.  Someone that will treat them with respect, that will cherish them.

But what about our boys?  Do we think about the type of person we want them to be with?  Do we hope that they will find a good person.

How many articles and interviews have we read or heard that says women still earn less in the workplace for doing the exact same job?  Are female athletes paid as much as male athletes?  There ARE double standards, but what about the ones that effect our boys?

Before I go any further, I will admit it - I have boys.  I think like the mother of boys.  So if I am biased, I apologize in advance, but I am posting this as a means to open up discussions.

Ok, let me give you an example…

Boy and girl are dating. They break up.  The details aren’t important, but how many times have you heard this:

“OMG!  I hate him, he is such a jerk.  What a d**k!”

“Oh, what happened?  What did he do?”

Now, what about this:

“What a B***H!”

“Watch your mouth!  Now tell me what happened.”

Our first instinct is to appease the young woman, to coddle her, and make her feel better.  To reassure her that it’s him (or her if she is a lesbian) and not her.

BUT, with our boys, we want to make sure that they don’t call a woman the dreaded “B” word or demean her, AND THEN we are willing to listen to their story. At least that is the story I hear most often.

Why do father’s babysit - instead of just take care of their kids? Why are SAHDs treated differently?  (I don’t know this for a fact; this is what I have heard; not really close with any SAHD.) Why do we stress that women can be doctors too, but a male nurse is something to ridicule?

And a big question for me - why do we tolerate a woman slapping a man, but not the other way around?  I have had this discussion with my friends before, and I hear lots of answers:

“Oh, men deserve it more!”  Really?  Have you met some of these women?

“Oh, men are stronger!” Really?  I think I’m pretty strong, and I know I can throw down.

And my favorite - “Well, we just do!”  Again, really? Why?

Now, I’m not saying we should encourage our sons to go around treating girls like crap or harm them or get into a brawl. No, my issue is we want equality, so why do we tolerate it when our girls treat boys poorly?

I have seen countless girls wearing shirts that say"Boys Suck!“ And we laugh them off, How many shirts have you seen that say, "Girls Suck!”

Do we want equality, or do we prefer the right to have the way we disrespect men overlooked, even applauded?

It has come to my attention that with so many new followers (Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!) who I am might get lost in the shuffle of my sometimes random, often rambling daily postings.  So here are some facts about me, my family, and who we are:

1. After almost 12 years of marriage and over 13 years of coupledom, Roy still takes my breath away.  I still look forward to that first kiss when he returns home from a day at the office, and those kisses still make me go weak in the knees.
2. I like to think I am a strong, capable woman.  I can deal with most situations myself, but once in awhile I still love that Roy rides in on his white horse and defends my honor.  It’s quite the turn on.
3. I’m a trash talker.  I am pretty sure that Roy did not like it when I used to come to the basketball court with him when we were first married.  He is a good player (he was, I don’t know… been a while sweetie!), and when some of those young whipper snappers started bowing up to him, my mouth just flew open!  It isn’t that he can’t take care of himself. I am just wildly competitive, even if I’m not playing!
4. I LOVE to read! I read everything - magazines, books, newspapers, billboards… you name it, I read it.  I got a Kindle a few years ago, and Roy pointed out to me that many of the classics are free now.  I gobbled them up.  So now, when Corey reads Frankenstein, I can actually give him an opinion that was formed from reading it last week as opposed to 20 years ago! 
5. Magazines are my weakness.  I don’t know how many to which I am subscribed, nor am I sure how many I buy over the course of a month.  A lot is my best guess.  HGTV is coming out with a new magazine, and I am actually excited for it! 
6. Which leads me to my next fun fact about myself… it irks me when magazines that are clearly aimed at women put a 13 year old on the cover.  Or a parenting magazine has a fashion spread with $200 baby sweaters. (REALLY?  Does anyone actually buy those?)  If a parenting magazine has a spread on “Cool Kids Rooms,”  why are there six for girls and only one for boys?  Do little boys not need bedrooms as well?  I don’t get it!
7. I share a love of horror movies - specifically slasher movies and zombie flicks - with my two oldest.  Addi, our 12 year old is getting there, but the older boys and I love them.  Is it a strange thing to have in common?  Probably.
8. About once a month, I have cheesy movie day.  Roy doesn’t often participate in this, but he is indulgent and doesn’t complain too much about missing the games that are on TV that day.  We pop some popcorn and look for the cheesiest movie we can find on Netflix Instance Queue.  The kids and I give it 10 minutes. If it is too horrible to bear, we move on to the next.  The kids love it, I love it, and we spend a few hours laughing and giggling like loons together.
9. After 17 years of parenting, I finally get that not all kids are the same.  Corey is pretty organized.  He gets his work done and over with.  Joe is extremely smart, but easily distracted (Gears of War 3 is his latest weakness) so occasionally his homework suffers.  Addi has some challenges with school.  He is an extremely intelligent young man, but he can be lazy.  Hayden is still struggling with reading, and that can easily frustrate him.  But he improves every day, and that makes him feel great.  And then there is my baby, Dean.  It is painfully obvious to me that he is a genius, so we will see what happens when he hits the school system here.  I predict he will astound everyone with his off the charts intelligence, charm the socks off all the little girls, and be Prom King his Freshman year of high school, but I am obviously biased.
10. I’m not a girly girl.  Don’t get me wrong, I like pretty things, but the last time I tried to apply eyeliner, I am pretty sure I stabbed myself in the eye.  I love lipstick, and wear it often, but that’s about it.  I prefer pants to dresses, flats to heels, and the two pairs of pantyhose I own have runs in them.
11. Give me a muscle car over a sports car ANYDAY. I think my love affair with muscle cars started with the TV show Supernatural. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Sam and Dean are super cute (got my baby’s name from the show), but I’ll take the car (a ‘67 Impala) any day of the week.  And let’s be honest, Daddy Winchester (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and Bobby (Jim Beaver) are the real cuties on the show. So, when Roy started shopping around for a new car, I jumped on the Challenger.  Didn’t even glance at the Mustang or the Corvettes. 
12. Pretty boys don’t do much for me.  Sure, Brad Pitt is handsome, but I’ll take a rugged man, scars and all, any day of the week.
13. Bald is beautiful.  LOVE a man with a bald head…
14. I am a morning person.  Most days, I get up around 6am, even on the weekends, and I love that quiet time.
15. When I go to Target, and I do this quite often, I follow the same route through the store.  Roy teases me about this, and he secretly knows that when we go to the store, if he takes a right instead of going straight, it confuses the heck out of me!
16. I have three novels started.  Well, excuse me, two novels and one book based on parenting five boys and all the craziness that goes along with it.  But Corey and Roy are the only people that have read what I have so far.
17. Roller Coasters ROCK!  My favorite of all time is the Griffon at Busch Gardens Williamsburg. 
18. I don’t know what to do when someone starts to cry uncontrollably.  I cry all the time, but I rarely get to the point where I am a hyperventilating ball of goo.  When someone is at that stage, I become clueless and, sadly, rather irritated.  I don’t mean to be a witch with a capital “B.” I really don’t!
19. I don’t think stupid people should be allowed to drive.  I’m sorry, I think this one is common sense.
20. My boys fill me with crazy pride.  I love sitting around the dinner table and hearing the laughter, the jokes, the bad puns, and the inside jokes. 
21. I can be a cheapskate.
22. I have a soft spot for the underdog.  Probably because when I was swimming, I was always one.  I was small, scrappy, and strong.  I didn’t look like much standing next to those tall, lithe girls on the starting blocks.  But when that gun went off, I was often the first off the blocks, and in the water I felt like I could do anything.  I loved surprising people, and to this day, I still cheer for the underdog.  (I mean, who doesn’t love Rudy?)
23. I actually enjoy doing the dishes and laundry.  Though I am almost positive that my dirty dishes procreate.  An irrational fear, I know, but come to my house, you’ll see what I’m talking about.
24. Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead are my two favorite TV shows.
25. I am crazy, wildly and deliriously happy with my life.  I am proud of my age, 37, and thrilled that I am in better shape now than when I was 27, and I did it on my own (well, Roy helps a lot).  My boys are happy and healthy, and they are so very loved.  My marriage is strong, and Roy and I still love and cherish each other.  My life is good.

So there you have it!  25 facts about me… would love to hear some of yours?!

I just read a very sweet post about stress and marriage.

And, yes, for the most part we are all in this together.  Roy and I just had a ‘talk’ with our 13 year old about his grades.  We were a united front.

I was sitting at my desk crying because I’m so frustrated, and Roy walks over to me with a flashlight on his head.

“Hey, Chris?!” He asks me adjusting his flashlight.

I looked up at him completely defeated.  Tears are streaming down my face, my hair is a mess, and I am sure my face is blotchy and completely unattractive. “What?”

“What color is Addi’s gym uniform?”

“Umm… shirt is grey and shorts are navy blue.” I tell him.

He nods and strides out of the room with a purpose, his goal… to find the gym uniform.

So back to the competition.  The kids see us as a united front.  If Mom is pissed, chances are Dad is gonna be pissed.  Dad might not agree with Mom, but if he lets the kids know that, Mom is gonna be pissed at him. So if for only that reason alone… Dad is gonna back Mom.  Dad also gets to hear Mom vent… sometimes for hours, and sometimes Mom goes off on a tangent, so that is yet another reason Dad is gonna back Mom.  And it goes both ways… Mom doesn’t want to hear Dad bitching about grades, or curfews or the 20 extra kids running around our house on the weekend, so Mom will back Dad.

But after 13+ years of this, I would be lying if I said that there wasn’t some competition going on.

What?  What competition, you ask?

Let me explain: If Roy found the gym uniform in question, he would save the day!  Addi wouldn’t get zeros for not dressing out, I wouldn’t be so frustrated, and we wouldn’t have to fork over another $15.  Dad is the winner… YEAH!

If I figure out what the problem is, and make doctors’ appointments, dispense medication, handle homework, etc… Mom is the winner… YEAH!

We totally keep score.

“ROY!  Seriously, can you help me with these kids?” I am trying to cook dinner, and Dean is hanging on me, Hayden is asking for something, and Addi is lost… and who knows where Joe and Corey are!

“What, Woman?!” He bellows from the darkness that is his office.

“HELP ME!” I’m trying not to curse, I admit it… or at least not curse loud enough that the little ones hear me.

He wanders out of his office a few minutes later, “What, woman?” He says this on purpose to push my buttons.

“I have a name!  Use it!”  Totally off topic, but needed to be said, “Can you please help Addi with his Math. I’m burning the meat here. Dean get off my leg…”

“No, he can do it himself.  If he needs help, he knows how to ask…” And he goes back into his cave.

“Seriously!” Once again, I’m yelling at this point, “YOU NEVER help when I ask you too.  Come on! Dean… seriously, get off my leg…”

“Excuse me… I’m the one that found the gym uniform!”

OH YEA… he totally helped.

But it goes both ways.

“Chris, come here.”

Roy always asks this just as I’ve settled into the couch on a cold Sunday.  Sunday is my catch up day, where I watch some of my silly shows… serious stuff.

“What?”  I sound like one of the kids whining, but I don’t care.

“Come hold this cardboard for me, so I can paint the trim.”

“Seriously!  Why can’t one of the kids do it?”  I’m really whining now, RuPaul’s Drag Race is pressing TV.

“Chris… come help me!” And my thought process is… if I help him, I can remind him about it later to get out of doing something more offensive like laying under his car and holding something for him.  If I don’t want to help him, then I have to cash in one of my chits on this, and is it worth it.

Now, this is all in good natured fun.  When the crap hits the fan, there is never any doubt in my mind that Roy will have my back.  

But marriage is definitely a competition.  And sometimes it’s to your advantage to let your partner win one once in awhile.

Sooo, I make a pact with myself to spend more time giving in to my feelings of restlessness when it comes to writing…and than I don’t write for four day?  Go figure!

It could be because our timeline got moved up.

What timeline you ask?

Well, I’ll tell ya,  Hayden is a Freshman this year, Dean is in fifth grade-so he’ll start middle school next year, and Roy works about 60 miles from home. NOT horrible, until you factor in rush hour traffic.  Sometimes, Roy gets into the office in an hour an a half, sometimes it take twice that-my goal was to move the summer before Hayden’s junior year.  That would give him two years at a new high school, Dean would have two years at the middle school before moving into HS, but my husband is beat.  With the new position he accepted, he’s going in almost daily-and I know it’s hard on him.  So, we’re looking to move in just a few months!

Ugh, I said it out loud

We’ve been here so long, I forgot why I dislike the process.  Getting the house ready, finding a new house…and than there’s THE PURGE.

I decided to start small, something no one could have any say over-my closet.  I listed items on ebay, I put aside items for a yard sale-and felt accomplished until I looked at my closet.  Pretty sure it looks no different.  When did I accumulate so much stuff?  

To be fair, Roy’s side of the closet looks similar.  I tell the man he needs to purge and he gives me two t-shirts-out of the 50 he owns-though he only wears about 10.  He has a t-shirt that he wears constantly (I wash it, he wears it-vicious cycle) that I can see through-I kid you not.  It didn’t start out like that, he just wears it constantly!  To boot-it says Grooveshark (does anyone even remember what that is?) and he got it for free!  Not that there’s anything wrong with promotional swag-I love my pens, but when it’s starting to disintegrate, maybe it’s time to move on?

Now, for my case I realized I have way to many shirts with goofy sayings.  Some I bought for the specific purpose of basketball games-I have a few with sayings, or Hayden’s number, etc.  But most say ridiculous things like, “More Tacos please.”  I’m not sure why I need three shirts that say that-especially when all are just different shades of grey.  

And you’d think when the shirts hold no real sentimental value it would be easy to let go of-apparently, it is not.  You never know when you might find yourself in desperate need of tacos and maybe you’ve lost your voice?  I don’t know…

And let’s not even get in to my legging collection.  Now, in the winter I do wear them-daily for the most part.  I wear tunics and leggings, or a sweater and leggings, etc.  They’re warm and cute-the more colorful the better!  But I’m short, so specific brands fit me best-so why do I have pair after pair that are too big? 

I think there was a time when I bought clothes to make myself happy-I was feeling out of sorts, sad-and when I worked through that-I was left with a packed closet.  And so, THE PURGE commenced.

I truly hope the kitchen isn’t like this-or you’ll find me crying in the shower…