Why I Say Yes :: The Love Files

Last night, around 9:30 PM, my husband looked me square in the face and seriously asked me if I wanted to go out into the cold.

Part of me wondered if he had a fever.  

"Wanna come out in the snow and watch me shovel and Duke run around like a mad man?"

He meant it, I could tell.  While I have no idea why he asked, and despite the reasonable part of my brain that said "Heck. No.  I don't like frostbite, thankyouverymuch," I went anyways.  Because as far as its in my power, however much he asks, I try and tell my husband "Yes" when he asks if I want to come with him.

It wasn't glamorous.  There was no particularly blog-worthy photo to show.  So I just took one, so I'd remember.  I want to remember that he asked me.  He asked me to be with him, to do with him.  He wants me around.  He wants to share things with me, even if its biting cold wind and annoying (and never-ending!) chores.  

I want him to always choose me, and so I try to say "yes" as much as possible.

Its the reason I've gotten up to go "hunting" at 4:00 in the AM (Yes, they make a 4 o'clock for mornings, too!  Who knew!?) and the reason I have actually sat and watched him play a video game a time or two.  For as long as he wants me around, I want to be there.  

This doesn't mean that I don't do my own thing, or that I watch him live his life while I sit in the stands.  We do plenty apart, and there are times he comes with me for stuff, just because I've asked.  It all just boils down to being each other's buddies.  I don't know if its the best marriage technique.  I don't know much of anything about marriage, other than what pertains to Handsome and our first 6 1/2 years.  But I do know that this works for us, the tagging along.  

I've had friends who say they want to do things, and so you ask or invite, and they decline.  Which happens, not a big deal.  Until its the 145th time, and then you're just done asking.  I don't want him to ever be done asking me.  It seems silly, but when I've got my head on straight and a good perspective, it almost seems like he's proposing all over again.  A little far-fetched, sure, but the truth is he's choosing me, and that's pretty much all I've ever wanted.  So that's why I say "yes".

Have a great weekend, friends!  Say yes to someone, even if they're asking you to leave your house at 9:30 when its 27* out and you're wearing leggins.  It might seem like a small thing, but these little "yes"'s, they add up into one big "you're important to me" and that is a beautiful gift.

<3 M.

I Love Being Married :: Giveaway

**WINNER**

Amy Klein

************

Warning: this post is mushing, in an "I have so many feelings and they're oh so very nice sort of way" not in an "old banana" sort of way.  Although the title kind of gives that away, so if you clicked through and now you're feeling surprised...

Let's be honest.
Handsome is the only one who actually looks good in this picture.
But the post is about him, so I'll allow it.

I'm in love.

I am.

With my husband.  And I'm not even sorry about it.  Not even one bit.  Usually, I just call my MIL and tell her how much I love her son, because what MIL doesn't want to hear that?  And besides, if she's buying me questionable undies as stocking stuffers anyhow (no lie - I couldn't bring myself to open my stocking in front of grandma!), I'm pretty sure she knows it.

I feel like I just over-shared.

I apologize.

Please try and remove whatever mental images you've conjured.

Anyhow, I've been thinking about the bible verse that says "Marriage is to be honored by all..." (Hebrews 13:4) and I know that when we publicly rag on our spouses, it doesn't honor marriage.  I also know that when our marriages are rockin' and we don't admit it, that's not honoring marriage either.  So here is me, saying that my 5-year,7-month marriage is rockin', and I'm oh so glad.

Here's a short list, from this week, of how my #babydaddy is making me fall in love with him all over again.

I fall in love when Handsome:

- prays for us to be brave, and I didn't even know we needed to be
- talks about buying RG her first rifle, and the fun they'll have as he someday teaches her about gun safety.  <Because she's gonna love that!>
- takes me to a musical, and we both enjoy it.  <"Better than the movies" he says!>
- rummages through the cupboards and eats whatever he finds, like in-house dumpster diving
- takes an extra 15 minutes to put his shoulder holster on just right, like a 63 year-old retired cop, so that we can go to the grocery store
- takes our dog running and calls him his buddy
- pretends to complain about nice things, like having too much food or getting smooched as soon as he walks into the house
- follows me around while I get ready, telling me his stories from the days he's been at work

Seriously, I'm over the moon.

Now, there are about a gazillion marriage books out there.  And I'm sure there's some good ones, and I know that there are some not-so-good ones.  A book won't make or break your marriage, but I'll tell you this - the good ones often give me a little check, and some perspective.  There is one book that I can point to ("other than the bible" says the baptist-raised girl, but she does mean it!) and say "this book changed my marriage".  That would be The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands by Dr. Laura Schlessinger.

Well, it changed the way my marriage would be, anyhow, since I checked it out of the public library a month or so before I actually got married.  I thought it was a joke, that it was just funny stories about being married.  Nope.  Dr. Laura, lays down the law, and gives great advice.  The best part, for me, is that the book is peppered with other people's stories.  I love vignettes!  Her two main pieces of advice: Choose wisely; Treat kindly.  Simple, but soooo critical!

Thus in an effort to honor marriage, I thought I'd give a copy of the book away.  You can have it in paperback or e-book version, winner's choice.  This is also a great book to give to a newly engaged lady, or as a bridal shower gift.  Just sayin', even if you're not married, you might want to enter.  Plus, winning is cool.

Use the rafflecopter below to enter to win.  Giveaway will go on through Weds at 11:59!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

<3 M.

Oh, and Dr. Laura has no idea who I am.  This post is not sponsored.  Duh.

Letters To My BabbyDaddy :: Talk To Me

Hey Love.

I love translating you for others, too
#appleBOTTOMjeans

My handsome, handsome love.  Particularly now with the mustache and soul patch facial-hair-that-shall-not-be-named G-O-N-E gone.  We decorated the tree last night, and you actually participated.  You've been actually participating a lot lately, and I find myself wanting to grab ahold of those moments and just squeeze them until I've made sure to get all of the specialness out of them.  But that's not what you're supposed to do with moments like that.  I know this, but I forget.  You're teaching me, by example, to just enjoy them.  Notice them.  Then keep right on living, so that you can have more moments.  

When we talk, even just on the phone for a "hey where are you at okay I'll be back soon" type of chat, I notice that we have our own language.  We've got our own names, like puddin' and handsome, sweet thang and donny, but there's more than that.  Over our years, it seems we've developed our own special blend of north & south speak, melded together with insider information.  Its not abnormal to hear "Grab some pop while you're at the store, eh?" and "dadgum, this youngin' is trying to eat the sweeper".  I like to fancy that we'd be an anomaly to language investigators, were they to watch us.

Then we've got the whole who-needs-to-say-a-whole-sentence thing going on, which makes me feel like we're jiving as nothing else can.  A simple "Hey Mariah, where's the..." followed by "In the basement, back right closet shelf" can find the paper towels without any previous conversation.  It doesn't always happen like magic, but its enough to know that I know you.  

I love knowing you.

Talk to you soon.

<3 M.

My Husband Cleans, and That's a Problem

I know.  We've all got 99 problems, but a husband who cleans 'aint one.

Except for me, it is.  And not a problem in an "I've got to change this, I won't stand for it" type of way.  I'm not stupid.  I realize when I've been handed a precious gift.  Its a problem in a "Mariah has issues she has to overcome by the grace of God" type of way.  In a "My husband nearly lost his head today" sort of way.

This picture has nothing to do with this story, except that it also occurred today.
And yes, it was this amazing.

Let me explain.

About a month ago, Handsome decided that he wanted to have a cleaner house, and he was going to do something about it.  This change was motivated by many things, notably RG's impending mobility, and the desire to model responsible, adult behavior for our bambina.  Good things, really.  And he was serious about his willingness to do the cleaning.

I should be thrilled.  And part of me is thrilled.  Its really nice that he does the dishes, and knows where the vacuum (one "c", two "u"'s, in case you have trouble with that word, too) cleaner is kept.  The problem was that I had trouble listening to him say "I am going to keep the kitchen more clean" and not hearing "You don't keep the kitchen clean enough".  It wasn't what he was saying, and it wasn't implied, but it was heard, all the same.

Poor guy, he thinks I'm loony and wanted to know why I kept twisting the things he said around into something negative.  This all came to a head today, when he asked me, as though it were a new idea, if I could maybe, after Riley was done playing with her toys, pick them back up.  I nearly came. un. glued.  And my thought process was 100% defensive, 100% prideful, and 100% wrong.  I actually went through the stages of grieving, for some weird reason.

Denial:

"Oh no.  OH NO HE DI'NT.  He is not coming up in here and telling me my business.  Is he telling me how to keep house?  Seriously?  No.  No way.  This isn't happening."

Anger:

"Like I don't do that already?  Like I don't pick up after her?  I mean, seriously, I didn't do it this morning, but for the past 9 months I've been picking up after her, and for the past 5 years I've been picking up after him, and if he thinks he's going to pass judgement ON ME..."

Bargaining:

"Well, if he thinks he can say these things about me, I'm going to unload on him where I think he's failing.  That's right.  I might not have picked up after RG this morning, but he left his pants in the bathroom..."

Depression:

"I can't believe he'd says something so hurtful.  Why doesn't he appreciate what I do?  Does he think its easy, being basically a single parent over 50% of the time?  Why is he so mean?  My life is so hard, and he doesn't care."

Husband Happy

This day is done.  We've wrapped it up and we're calling it a huge win, as far as days go.  As far as bloggy things go, it might not be a win, since the only picture I took today was this: 

Boys are so fun.
They let you shoot up their birthday presents, and they're happy about it!

This morning, I dropped my little bean off at her lovely lovely babysitter's, and headed to pick up handsome from work.  I had big plans, all of which I had made in my head and none of which I had verified or scrutinized too closely, so we ended up walking around a community track for the better part of an hour to kill time until the gun shop opened.  And although I was frazzled and disappointed and a leetle stressed at missing my Saturday morning with RG, I shoved all of those feelings down in the dark dungeon of "things that are not real and therefore should not impact your attitude/be used to make decisions" and enjoyed my 2 miles with my hubby on his second day of being 29.

Letters to My Babydaddy :: My Champion

Dear Babydaddy,

I know that it has been more difficult than we thought it would be.  I know that I'm more difficult than you thought I would be.  But you've been a champion.  My champion, to be exact.  Like when I'm tired but I just keep trying, and you pull me close and tell me that I'm such a good mom.  Or when you keep baby so I can have a blissful 20 minutes alone at the grocery store.  But you're especially awesome when I tell you that I feel like I don't know when I'm doing.  That's when you really came through.  Because you didn't commiserate, you didn't just pat me on the back or say "that's okay".  You told me I was wrong.  You pointed out the ways that I do know what I'm doing, the times when I do know how to take care of our Bambina.  That encouragement, that affirmation, it was gold, honey.  You. complete. me.  

The fact that you talk about baby #2 without hesitation makes me think that you're a little bit crazy, but I'll keep you.

<3 M.

Wake Up Call

The following story is mostly for me, just so I don't forget.

****

Handsome woke me up this morning when he got home from work.  "Get up!" He said, and attempted to pull me out of bed by one arm and one leg.  "I have something to show you."

He dragged me to the baby's room.  For a brief second, I thought maybe he found the baby.  You know.   Because the baby was... lost??  Clearly I was still mostly sleeping at this point.  

And then he pulled up the window shade.  Told me to look.

It was the sunrise.

"I thought my truck was on fire" he told me, as he hugged me and let me soak in the beautiful, flaming sky that marked the morning of our bambino's due date.

****

I love this man of mine.  I love that he wants to share things with me, to show me stuff that he thinks is awesome.  That he tells me all of his stories, even when they're long.  And about the specific gun clips/magazines he wants to buy.  Even then.  

<3 M.

Since the Dawn of Time, Part 3

I started this story many many moons ago.  Parts 1, 2, and 4 are in the archives.  However, since I do things in my own order (Remember the curtains?  Bathrooms are still without.) I failed to ever write up part 3.

Basically, Part 3 is how we ended up here

I'm a maverick, what can I say.

Years ago, I had been pestering pressuring gently reminding my boyfriend Handsome that (1) Graduation was in 1 year, (2) I would be moving after graduation, and (3) Most weddings take approximately a year to plan.  Just as an FYI, no pressure.  Definitely not nagging, no, not me, never.

I finally decided to give up on the gentle reminders.  If H didn't mind that his 5-year deadline was fast approaching, then I was determined not to mind either.  I mean, I didn't give up entirely, since I was still crying to my mom at night, telling her that I'd have to end up moving to SC without Handsome, and wasting the last 5 years of my life, and on and on.  But I was trying desperately to be content with my current situation.

Enter July 4th.  I love the fourth of July.  The fireworks, the hot dogs, the overwhelming love for America; I buy into all of it.  And Handsome knows that I love it.  I really thought, this year, on our 5th 4th (wrap your head around that) spent together, I thought that would be it.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't expect the whole sky-writing thing.  Heck, a ring inside a hot dog would have worked for me.

Evening came, evening passed.  Fireworks went off.  We watched, we cuddled, I started to hold my breath.  If I would have kept holding my breath, I would have turned blue & passed out.  No ring.  No promise.  No happily ever after that night.  Torture would have been easier.

Why I Love Wifing: A Future

I am no expert in the art of Wifing (you know, being a wife!).  I do not have any market cornered, not FireWife, YoungWife, ObedientWife, or LovelyWife.  Basically, I'm making this all up as I go along, and sometimes it shows.  

But one thing I am is enthusiastic.

Enthusiastic: As in, the opposite of what Handsome is when he takes pictures.
That's his "big" smile.

I'm a big fan of being married.  I pretty much love it and would recommend it to anyone.  Its not always easy, and sometimes it doesn't seem like it will ever be easy.  But good things aren't easy.  And getting to be a wife to a great man is totally worth it.  To remind myself of that, I'm periodically going to post about the things I love about wifing.  Yes, there are less-than-good things that go along with it all, but those are way to easy to remember.  Its the good things that often get forgotten in the midst of life, and its the good things that deserve to be preserved for all time, or at least for as long as the interwebs last.

ASIDE:  Have you ever wondered how long the internet will last?  I mean, I'm sure when all technology was new, people didn't think about the day when it would become obsolete.  Who would have ever guessed that 8-track (or is it A-track?) tapes would go out of style?  This leads to bigger questions, like what will replace the internet?  Mind control, most likely.

Do I?

I'm not sure what to write about.  

Do I tell you about how I beat myself up this morning?  I mean, there are no abrasions or contusions (words I've picked up from Handsome's work lingo), but emotionally, it was pretty much Tyson v. Holyfield this morning.  I may have even bit off my own ear, emotionally speaking.  Whatever that means.

Do I tell you that the only reason it stopped is because God spoke gently to me, reminding me that all of the lousy, misdirected, and downright wrong things I've done are set right beside all of the wonderful, perfect, ingenious things I've done, and they're all just filthy dirty laundry to Him?  That He loves me for one reason, and one reason only: because He made me, and decided to love me.  That He loves you for the same reasons, in the same way?  Do I share these things with you?

Do I tell you something light?  Like I've begun looking for Christmas presents for people, and I've finally decided what to make.  I like to make presents for people, both because I'm cost-adverse, and because I think they're more meaningful.  I don't make my brothers socks, especially if they really want XBox games, but if I think a person will like something, I make it.  And if all goes as planned this year, they're really going to like it.

Do I tell you something incriminating about myself?  Confess to you and tell you that I ate chips and dip for dinner?  That I've enacted an embargo against all stores selling my dip of choice, at least until 2012?  That I have to take such serious measures, or else I'll eat 1/2 of a container in one sitting (on a good day, when my self-control isn't totally shattered), which is technically over 5 servings?  That I'm not sure how many more sentences should have question marks in this paragraph?

Break the Fast

It is time, dear peoples of the world, to break the monotony of breakfast.

For ever and always, we've been told that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.  I know, personally, I love breakfast.  Sometimes, and I'm talking rarely here, I'll opt for just a Hot Coffolate, but usually I try and eat some real food.

Breakfast is a wonderful time to eat healthily, for one of two reasons:  (1) People claim that eating a healthy breakfast sets you up for an entire day of healthy eating.  (2) It gets the "healthy" out of the way and allows you to treat yourself for the remaining 4 meals (you know, lunch, snack, dinner, evening treat) since you did so well on the first one.  I hold with the #2 people, here, but that's just me.  And that's only when I eat healthily.  Often, I start out the day treating myself for being awesome, and, well, it just goes from there.

This is the picture from Melskitchencafe.com.
This is the recipe I used (more or less).
I did not add nectarines.
Maybe I should.

This week, H & I are eating baked oatmeal for breakfast.  Every. Single. Day.  Why, you ask?  Do we just love baked oatmeal?  Why no, no we do not just love baked oatmeal.  Handsome is less of a fan than I thought when I chose to make it, and I am only a fringe member of the oatmeal camp.  However, Little Miss Mathy over here (that'd be me) didn't really consider the implications of making a breakfast dish that serves 12.    Don't get me wrong, its very delicious.  But... I mean, twelve servings...

Outdoor Movies

These last two weekends have been wonderful and more wonderful, thanks in no small part to the fact that Handsome has been off for two days!  Last weekend was his Sat/Sun combo, which is always nice.  It’s also sort of rare, as it won’t happen again until December.

This weekend was a Fri/Sat combo, and although I had to work Friday while he was home, we still managed to salvage it.  We went out for pizza, which we ate on a covered porch while the sky drizzled.  We laughed and picked and teased, and just had a lot of fun, the two of us.  It was such a carefree mood, which seems a little out of place with all that has been going on in our lives, but it was uber enjoyable, nevertheless. 

After dinner, I remembered what our plans were for the evening.  It was going to be a big, BIG night.  My only complaint about the loverly South Carolina was about to be rectified – we were going to watch a movie, OUTSIDE. 

Be still my heart, there are few things I love more than sitting out on a blanket, eating crappy concession food, collecting dew, and watching a movie under the stars.  Glory Hallelujah, it is summer at its perfection. 

Since the Dawn of Time... (part 4)

C'mon, folks, you knew it was coming.  

It was inevitable that we would get to this part of the story.  Just like Handsome and I.  

And now, the wedding story.

Do It All

I have things to do (as this post will show you), but I read a fellow FireWife's blog this morning, and my heart went out to her.  I have to get my say out before I forget and move along with my life.

There is a myth floating around that women can "Have it all" or even "Do it all".  I would suggest saying those phrases in an ethereal and floating voice.  "Have it all...all...all..."  You know the one.  

Anyhow, this picture people have (and don't even get me going on the whole "striving to be the Proverbs 31 woman" fiasco.  More on that at some point in the future) of a woman who can work outside the home, raise her children suitably, take care of the house and its inhabitants, and keep her husband in love with her, and have time for personal reflection; its not just misleading, its damaging.  Sort of like looking at pictures of models in teen magazines and wanting to be like them.  Its not a real picture of a person.  Its airbrushed and those are someone else's legs, actually, and she didn't have to dress herself at all, or have be awake before 11:30 AM.   

Striving to have it all or to do it all is similar.  There's a fake picture of what the modern working woman looks like and does.  And at the risk of being picked up off the street & thrown into a windowless van for exposing the truth, let me say, SHE DOESN"T EXIST.  (let me also say that the apostrophe-turned-quotation-mark is one of my pet peeves of writing in all caps. you can't just flow with it.)  The woman you imagine, well, she's totally fake; not an ounce of truth on her toned stomach, or a smidgen of truth to be found from her perfectly colored hair (no, sorry, its natural) to her lovely manicured toenails (french tips are all the rage).  And like the magazine models, striving to be someone who isn't real is exhausting.

And then, there's the woman in real life who appear to have it all.  Lets focus on that last emphasized word, appear.  The image you imagine them to be putting forth, or the one they try so desperately to portray, neither one is real.  That woman who lives down the block and all of her kids file nicely in line, wearing clean clothes, to happily hop into the minivan at 7 in the morning?  Who knows, maybe they didn't get breakfast; maybe they're acting so contrite because they poured paint on all of the mattresses in the house last night; maybe she's got them all drinking nyquil.  You don't know what it is, but honestly, no one ever has everything together.  

There's always something that's got to give; nutrition is an easy one - takeout and frozen dinners, done.  Husbands often get the brunt of it too - no time for niceness, no attention left, they're often shoved to the bottom of the priority stack.

Finally, this leads me to the subject I wanted to broach; the image.  I'm tired of it.  As you can tell if you've spent any amount of time on here the last 3 weeks, I'm tired in general.  And thats one that women often hide - most of us trying to wear multiple hats or juggle too many things, we're tired.  But make-up and a small caffeine addiction can hide that one.  In order to help end the "have it all" myth, I'm going to bare all.  No, not like that, sicko.  I'm talking my house.  This is where my "something that's got to give" has gave.  Something had to slide, because there's not enough hours in my life to take care of all that needs care taking, and let me tell you, I made a vow nearly 3 years ago that the "something" would not be Handsome.  That's what you promised, married folks, years ago; He would be first, the dusting be darned.  

Since the Dawn of Time... (part 2)

So, back to the story I wanted to tell you...

Handsome and I had been dating for oh, about... forever 4 1/2 years.  I had started the not-so-subtle hinting that I'd be willing to marry the guy about 3 1/2 years earlier... what can I say, I know what I want.  But Handsome was a little longer in figuring out what he wanted, and so I waited.  And hinted.  Obviously.  Not that I wanted to manipulate him into marrying me, but I wanted him to understand that if he were to ask, I would say yes.  I also wanted him to understand that eventually I would be graduating and moving, that planning a wedding would take a fair amount of time, and that the time was fast approaching to crap or get off the pot (per the 5 year deadline I had given him).  

So, as the summer before my senior year of college approached, I gave a few final hints, by now aware that I would be heading off to SC in a year, and then I tried not to dwell.  Figured I'd just enjoy what was and trust God for the future.  

Set the scene: June, 2007, at a birthday part for my Momma.

Handsome and I went together to get my mom some tickets to a local amusement park, Cedar Point Kennywood.  I had just discovered that my mom of 21 years loved roller coasters.  I never knew.  So we got 4 tickets to the amusement park, and after confirming that she was ready to leave this world if necessary, we extracted a promise from her that she would try the *dun dah da dunnn* Sky Coaster!

Taken from a page in my scrapbook.
I seem to have lost the original.

In This House Challenge

I've been wanting to share things with you, and I've got a lot to say (as I've been claiming for the past 3 days) but I just can't seem to get motivated enough to do it.  Now that I've actually started writing a post that is more than just a list (incognito or unabashed), I seem to have gotten back into my grove and have a million things to say again.  So I may put up multiple posts tonight.  Consider this your warning.

I was snooping on a gazillion blogs, as is my habit now, and I came across this challenge that multiple bloggers had done called "My Other Self".  In it, you go through this site called Pintrest which has a tetrillion pictures on it, and you can make pages of things you like and stuff (I sound knowledgable, no?).  I haven't really gotten into it, only because I can smell an addiction a mile away, and I'm still working through my BubbleMint problem.  

Anyhow, for "My Other Self", you go through Pintrest and pick out a bunch of pictures that your other self would do/have/see/be/know/think/care about, etc.  While this is a long description, its not even to the heart of the party yet.  Please bear with me.

SO, in looking around, I saw a sign.  This sign.  Well, not this sign, but a sign similar to it.  The sign I saw was copywrite protected, and I couldn't steal borrow it from the internet to show you.

I have seen other signs like this.  They don't all say the same things.  But it made me wonder, if I were to make a sign of things we "do" in this home, this house, what would it say?  So I'm going to make one.  Perhaps in real life, but at least in Paint or MS Word, tonight.

And I'm putting a challenge out there to you, to make one too!  Think about it, it might be fun.  Heck, if people actually do it, maybe I'll have a giveaway and pick one.  What do you think about that?

So here is my "In This House".  If you want to leave one, too, comment below and either just leave your list of things you "do", or put it on your blog (if you have one) and leave the link!  Try it out, I think it will be fun.

And in case you can't read it, I put

• Laughter
• Mistakes
• Loud
• Ice Cream
• Real
• Adventures
• Trust
• God's Love
• Generosity
• Firearms
• Friendships
• Hugs
• Grace

We may do other things, but I just took those off the top of my head.  What do you "do"?

Oh, and apparently we "do" dog sock bandages as well.

Its nothing serious.  I think he's doing it for the attention.
Like a little kid who thinks he needs a bandaid for every boo-boo.

Forever amazed by her dumb dog and wonderful life,

TFW

Since the Dawn of Time...

Alright.  I have a story I want to share with you, about how Handsome proposed and things around that time.  But I feel like thats jumping in the middle.  And while I'm cool with it, you may not be.  If I went ahead with it anyhow, you may feel lost and forlorn, like someone who has the picture on the box, but not all the pieces of the puzzle.  And I'd hate to do that to you.

So I'm going to fill in some of the beginning so that I can tell you about the middle another day.  Also, there's a video I'm going to need to include, and its on my hard drive in my office.  See?  I'm not all altruistic and junk.  I'm also scattered.

 So as I've already mentioned, I met Handsome in high school.  I actually heard about him when I was in 7th grade.  I was at a different school, and hanging out at the county fair with some friends.  One of my friends squealed and got all excited; Geraldo Magagnotti (names have been changed to protect the delightful.) was there!  Of course, he was with his cousin, who would turn out to be Handsome, but I didn't know either of them.  My friend wanted to follow the two of them around and work up the nerve to talk to Geraldo.  I mocked my friend, and Geraldo and Handsome's last name.  "Magagnotti?  Pshaw.  What kind of crazy name is that?  Mag-ag-ag-a-nooooti?  Weird."  Oh, how ironic...

I should get activity points for this...

So, WW has these things called activity points.  And activity points are earned by doing activities (duh), and you can use them to track the points (aka- food amount) that you eat. 

To give some perspective to those of you oblivious of this whole system, walking briskly for 30 minutes will give me 2 points.  Eating 16 Wheat Thins, Low Fat, will cost me 4 points. 

So anyhow, I like to eat, as you may have noticed.  This motivates me to get Activity points for myself as much as I can.  Cooking? Goes under "Light Housework", 1 point per 15 minutes.  Walking to class?  Yep, I count that.  This system has gotten Dukas quite a bit more exercise, as I try to get more walks in.  Handsome thinks I'm over-reaching, but I say I'm just sticking with the plan...

Lately, I've been struggling with... I guess you'd call it Wifery.  People always tell you (or at least they should) that "marriage is hard work".  And the young lovers in love shake their heads and say "Oh, yes, we know, we're ready for it".  I especially thought this.  See, handsome and I had dated for nearly 5 years (per an ultimatum)  before getting engaged.  

We had gotten to know each other slowly, as friends first.  Spent a lot of time with each others families, built upon a foundation of mutual respect and shared interests... blah blah blah.  

When it came down to it, all of that still adds up to woefully unprepared.  Because, I've found, that marriage, if you're doing it right, requires a person to put the needs of the other above their own.  "AND WHO THE CRAP WANTS TO DO THAT?" is my reaction, most of the time.  Its a weird *warning: mathy term* inverse  relationship, where the more you give, the more you end up getting.  Which is fine as a rule, and risky-feeling in practice.

Anyhow, I've been feeling kind of mouthy lately.  Which is bad even when coupled with my general emotions, and lately I've been feeling sleep-deprived-emotions.  Finally, to make it the perfect storm, I've got to watch what I'm eating because of those stupid points I talked about above.  I'm being honest here; I've got a bag full of no-bakes sitting on my counter, and all I want to do is Go To Town on that.  Warm them in the microwave, get a nice tall glass of milk... s'cuse me, I'll be right back after I GORGE myself...

~ Time Passes ~

A Late Date

I had planned to go to bed early.
I had planned to be asleep by now.
But then Handsome came home from SCUBA, and says "Lets go ride our bikes!" at 10:30 in the PM.

How can a girl resist such a romantic proposal?  Impossible.

So we loaded up the bikes and off we went.  Its spring break and campus was deserted while still being well-lit. Not to mention we had the moon on our side.  I'm sore and even more tired, but a good time was had by all, and now we have a new memory.  It felt like dating again.  And thats worth it.