Husband Clothes

As I’ve mentioned, the top reason I wanted to marry my husband was because he was kind and steadfast through and through. And those qualities have gotten us through near-divorces caused by OTHER qualities he has (and that I have, of course).

In our first three or four years of marriage, I kept learning about “life strategies” my husband used, and uses, to deal with a variety of situations. Some of these strategies HORRIFIED me. The really odd thing is that the more time that went by, the more I learned from the way my husband does things–even though I don’t always agree with his approach.

I thought I’d share one of these strategies with you. It may ring a bell for some of you. I’m going to write this from my husband’s perspective. Pretend he’s reading or speaking the next paragraph. Then I’ll tell you what I’ve learned from this highly annoying strategy and why I now use it regularly.

#1 Husband Strategy of All Time: Say, “I will do it later” to avoid anything for any reason. Even when you have said this 100 times (when, for example, your wife has asked you to mow for the past 100 days), feel free to say it again when asked to do “the task.” Sure, it will infuriate the person asking you to do the task at hand. But pleasing people isn’t the objective. And thank heaven for that. Also, remember that the word “later” isn’t specific–so don’t go making it something it’s not by tacking a day or time to the end of your statement. Keep it straight and to the point: “I’ll do it later.”

What I have learned: I used to be Miss Do EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW and Miss Do EVERY FAVOR ANYONE ASKS me for. By observing my husband, I learned that this is much too stressful. Now my motto is pretty much “I’ll do it later.” Oh don’t get me wrong–I help people who need help. But not when I can’t. Also, not for moocher types, and not for people who are mean or unappreciative, no matter how close a “friend” or relative.  Oh, I don’t have a problem just saying “no” either, but in some cases, “I’ll do it later” is preferable. (Prime example: When my mother-in-law says, “Come visit me,” it’s really better to say “I’ll do it later” than “No, we’re not going to visit you because when we do, you ruin my life.”) The person asking the favor ALWAYS stops asking at some point–so it’s definitely a win/win situation.

Oh, and you know who gets this response from me more than anyone else in the world–my husband! Pretty much all we ever say now is “Can you help me?” or “I’ll do it later.” But somehow it works out–probably because we  both strongly stand by this strategy. We’re united in not doing things right now.

Hello All! I’m so happy. My husband is finally home after 3 weeks. Not surprisingly, we’ve had some embarrassing incidents in the past few days. The MOST embarrassing of all was our grilling “fun” that took place on Saturday.

I’m going to let you know right off the bat that the FOOD was MUY DELICIOSA. I mean, we are talking meat so soft it had the texture of fine bread. Perfect marianade. Perfect taste. Perfect vegetables as well. My husband was the lone chef.

Brief aside: I didn’t lie in the many prior posts when I said he hadn’t cooked a meal for the family in 9 years. That was all true. But recently he took up a sudden interest in grilling, and he has now cooked for the family 3 times. Yep, 3 entire times in 9 years. Let’s do the math. This means that my husband has cooked approximately 1/3 of a meal each year for 9 years. HAHAHAHAHAH. I’m so funny…

ANYWAY. The grilling is marvelous, except one thing. Let me describe my concern by comparing this grilling experience to the times my neighbors grill. Every time my neighbors grill, I notice a succulent scent that makes me feel like I’m floating toward the grilling food, like Sylvester the Cat in the old Looney Tunes cartoons. But when my husband grills, the smell is smoky. As is the view. I’m talking, I can kind of discern a thin layer of smoke in the air around my room, plus I feel that I need to cough.

Now granted, my apartment is a shoebox, so the bathroom window isn’t all that far from my bedroom. But I also noticed that all of my neighbors had closed their windows because when we were eating the grilled food outside after my husband finished preparing it, one by one, our neighbors peeped out at us, then opened their windows quietly. I almost felt that they were saying “Okay everyone, the coast is clear [of heavy smoke]. If he’s eating, he must be done grilling.”

There’s no way you can know for certain how much smoke was in the air–I can only tell you that it concerned me that my baby wasn’t wearing a gas mask. QUESTION: Is this normal? When I went down panicking about it, my husband said, “Oh Holly, leave this to the expert. [He meant himself. Please.] EVERYONE makes this kind of smoke when they grill.” Is this true? Do the neighbors think this is fine–that we are effectively smoking them out of the clean outdoors and forcing them to shut their windows and stuff??? Please inform.

This happened a few weeks ago. I have one visual symbol that I feel effectively communicates what I had to deal with that day, and it is posted above. These scissors are MY FAVORITE kitchen scissors. Oh, sorry, they WERE my favorite kitchen scissors. As you can see, however, something happened to them. Guess what that was.

The incident occurred on a day when we needed to mow. Surprisingly, that day began well despite the need for mowing part. (Usually on the days we need to mow, my husband and I almost get divorced due to his inability to help with that ONE JOB around the house.) But that particular morning, I said, “We need to mow.” And he just started getting the stuff to do it! I nearly fell into a shock-induced coma. However, I was quickly brought back into full, though perplexed, consciousness with the following 2 incidents:

1. After like 5 minutes, he says, “Alright! I’m all done mowing.” I thought, that seems way too fast, even considering the dinky size of our yard. So I go out to look. UM YEAH, figured it out–about 3 spots of grass had actually been CUT. All the rest of the grass was still 8 inches tall but LYING DOWN sideways. In short, almost nothing had even been mowed. I pointed this out, and he got an irritated look on his face and said, “Fine, I’ll mow again. But first I’m going to cut this tree back.” (Uh, correction: Omit the word “again,” Sweetie. But good idea to cut the tree back.)
2. After 10 more minutes, he came inside and said, “Well, I’m going to need to go to Home Depot.” I asked why. He held up my favorite kitchen scissors which were broken in half, and said, “Because these broke.” Apparently he had been trimming the TREE with them.

I said, “You tried to cute the TREE with my kitchen scissors???????”

His response: “Well, we don’t HAVE yard sheers. Plus those tree branches are not that big.” See. See how my life is? But that’s all fine now. I recuperated by asking myself, “Let’s pretend I am forced to choose between these. Which would be better?”:

a) a man who is a really kind husband and father but somehow breaks kitchen utensils while doing yardwork or

b) a man who could mow all of Iowa in a flash and not break a single kitchen utensil in the process, but who was mean to me and the children

Easy. I’d take the guy who’s really nice but breaks kitchen utensils while mowing. Not IDEAL, but an easy choice nevertheless. My life is pretty fun–just sometimes I have to consciously remind myself to laugh rather than cry. That’s fine.

My husband came home for a day while on his job out of town (for one day). It’s wonderful to see him. And absence is so good for the heart, as well as the eyes. He is looking cuter than ever! Of course, this follows a 2 week absence. So, at this point, in my eyes the man would look great regardless of his actual appearance. For example, he could have gained 100 pounds, and he would look perfectly sexy to me right now. Or, he could be sporting his non-shaved head look and still look great.

Note of explanation on that last sentence: Shaved head is the ONLY way for him to go–otherwise, hair gets out of control. He thinks “doing his hair” is unmanly. To him “doing his hair” would involve using any hair product including shampoo (he uses normal soap), combing, or heaven forbid blow drying. See, he needs to be “manly,” therefore when his hair grows, it is horribly uneven, sticks out in weird places, always looks dirty, and is super unattractive. Except perhaps today, when it would look absolutely marvelous to me…

Oh, but this post is about “many” Hot Dads. I will list them for you now:

• Hot Dad #1, my husband, as I just described in detail.
• Hot Dad #2–the one I posted yesterday (who looks identical to my husband). I haven’t run into him again. That suits me fine, as it gives me a guilt complex, though it is also exciting.
• Hot Dad #3 has appeared. But this one’s a little ironic and odd. Let me explain.

Yesterday, I was waiting for my son to come to the gate. I was just minding my own business, observing people. Then I see a guy, a child’s father presumably, running to the school gate–he was late to pick up his child. I noticed he was quite nice-looking. (And I thought to myself, “What’s up with all the Hot Dads? Am I boy crazy or something? Why do I keep noticing Hot Dads? I need to GROW UP.”)

Low and behold, after about four seconds, I recognized him. He’s a friend of ours. It took me a minute because he’d shaved off his 1970s geeky detective mustache. You know, the ones that looked like this:

Sure, it looks GREAT on Johnny Depp as Donnie Brasco (good movie by the way, though old and violent). But for ALL other guys, this is a HUGE no no–except Johnny Depp, they make all men look TOTALLY CREEPY. (Note: If you are a guy, and you have one of these, please contact me immediately for constructive, inspirational suggestions that will intensely benefit your love life. And they’re FREE! Just my way of giving back.)

Oh, so you can imagine my dismay when I realized that New Hot Dad was actually Old Friend Creepy Dad!!!!! WHOA. It’s always strange when you know someone well, and then suddenly become aware that the person is attractive. Hm. I wonder why Old Friend Creepy Dad decided to shave his mustache? It sounds mean to call him this, but I simply can’t continue to refer to a male friend guy as “Hot Dad #3″–that’s just asking for trouble.

This was a somewhat traumatic day. First day of the new school year. My poor son was soooo nervous. When he gets nervous about things, he sometimes has nightmares. So last night he kept saying “Boy I’m nervous. I hope I don’t have a nightmare.” We talked about it, and I kept trying to get him to visualize playtime (sorry so geeky), as his best friend is in the class–I thought this would help. Apparently it did because no nightmares.

We got to school on time today and didn’t even have to run! I had the baby in a baby carrier. I was dressed up nicely, tidy little hairstyle, looking all ready for our big “baby debut.” I thought I’d see all of our friends and familiar teachers from last year. However, I didn’t see a single friend! BUT guess who was the FIRST person I noticed as we entered the school yard…Hot Dad. Not A hot dad. THE Hot Dad.

Yes. Hot Dad from last year. The one I secretly loved. This Dad and I have never spoken, but we have chemistry. I can tell because we do that accidental staring at each other thing all the time, then look down at the ground really fast when the other one notices.  But not to worry. As you all know, I am very faithful and dedicated to my husband. So my little crush-from-afar on Hot Dad will definitely never lead anywhere–even to a conversation. And I maintain a distance of at LEAST 15 feet from him at all times. When we drift too close, I walk away. (Oh, it is probably important to note that Hot Dad looks almost identical to my husband.)

By the way, should today be one of those off days when my husband reads my blog, I’m not sure how he’ll feel about Hot Dad. He’s not what I’d call the jealous type. BUT, if a man called me, he’d definitely ask who it is. And we don’t have one of those marriages where he or I have casual lunches with the opposite sex. My husband wouldn’t get that. A group of coworkers together, sure. Me and one male coworker–oh heavens no. But why would I want to have lunch with one male coworker? Unless I loved him. hahahahhahaha. (That’s what my husband would think.)

Oh, I just realized, doesn’t that one-on-one forbidden coworker lunch kind of make my husband the jealous type? Hm. Good to learn. Oh sorry, this post is going nowhere fast. Let me summarize the points and be done with this topic, which is making me feel nervous and confused:

1) I saw Hot Dad at school today. He looked hot.

2) I will never, ever talk to Hot Dad–and I’m not sure why that is. I just don’t want to.

3) Since I just discovered that my husband is probably the jealous type, it might not be ideal for him to see this post. However, I will leave it up, as this could help me learn more about my husband. Probably, I will learn that he never reads my blog.

4) As always, Hot Dad and I had no contact whatsoever. But he did look very cute, and for some reason, this made me happy.

Ha ha! The title of this post is actually understating it. It should be called the ENDLESS NUMBER OF TIMES my husband failed his driving test.

He and I got our driver’s licenses and our first car ever together shortly after getting married. Looking back, I can’t believe our relationship lasted beyond the driver’s license ordeal. It cost us something like $200 in cab rides to DMV. I honestly am ashamed to tell you the number of trips we had to make for all of my husband’s failed trips, but I am going to estimate 5. Let’s do the math on that one–it means he failed the test about 4 times and finally passed it the last time.

The reason is that he INSISTED that he didn’t need to study for the test. After all, he was given driving lessons by CARLOS. May I mention that Carlos, while kind and a good driver, didn’t have the strongest English language skills–nor did my husband. Worry not–they followed the driving laws. But clearly Carlos wasn’t able to impart all of the information my husband needed to pass the test.

But, you might wonder, after Holly’s husband failed the test the first time, THEN didn’t he feel he needed to study? The answer is no. He felt the test was “wierd” and that questions were worded “in a confusing way.” How about the third time? Wouldn’t have have realized after failing the driving test twice that he should now study? NOPE. After the third test, he kept repeating something like: “I’ve now answered questions incorrectly so many times that I’ll definitely know the right answer when I see it this time.”

We kept going to the DMV over and over and over. And since we didn’t have a car (because no licenses), we had to take taxis. It got very annoying–and expensive. Finally, after he failed like the 4th time, I think I was ready to leave him. Sorry, but I simply could not be married to a man who can’t pass a driving test after seemingly endless attempts, PLUS somehow neglects to STUDY for the test despite undeniable proof that he desperately needs to.

How did this nightmare end? We studied together for about 30 minutes. I asked him questions, and gave him multiple choice answers worded exactly as they are in the book. I repeated each question till he got the answer right. The next day he passed the test. The irony? Now my husband’s driving is very good, and mine is very bad. And my car is all crashed up, but his car is not. The mysteries of life, marriage, and change…

I am usually with the times when it comes to movies. But in this one case, I’m way behind. Just in case there are other people out there who are as behind the times as me, I’m going to rave about this movie from 2005. The movie is Pride and Prejudice.

I saw it on TV two nights ago. I almost never watch TV (except UFO documentaries, which I love so much I’m not even allowed to discuss it, otherwise you will think I’m a crackhead). BUT now, watching TV is kind of fun because it’s an easy activity to do while feeding the baby. So, the other night, I was flipping through the channels–that’s pretty much how I watch TV (till I find a UFO documentary, then the flipping abruptly ceases and microwave popcorn gets prepared). Sorry. Back on track.

And there I see a beautiful little scene from an unfamiliar movie. Kiera Knightly is at a lively party with classical sounding violin music, dressed up in late 18th century clothing, hair all done up in curls. She’s giggling in a circle with a bunch of girls.

Then one of the girls says something like, “Elizabeth, one day you too will understand. Just the right man will catch your eye, and you will not be able to turn away.”

Next, a guy walked into the party. He clearly caught her eye. I was HOOKED. The movie didn’t end until 3:30am, and I still could not pry myself away any sooner. I had to catch every last moment. (Quick question: Why isn’t Matthew Macfadyen so, so, so, so much more famous than he is? He’s SUCH a convincing actor. I would watch anything with this guy in it.)

I might even need to watch this movie again. I didn’t even check the names of the screenwriter or director, but the way the story was presented was incredibly engaging. It portrays the chemistry between the leading characters more vividly that any movie I remember seeing.

The scenery, clothing, movement, music, and acting in this movie are superb–really takes you away. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. Now I’m in the mood to watch more good movies. New or old–please recommend some to me. Books too!!!

Hi, I hope all is well. We are having such a nice time–me and the boys that is. My husband is still working out of town. How hard it must be for military wives. Or wives who lose their husbands unexpectedly.

I usually like to (attempt to) be humorous, but I’m kind of in a deep mood. It’s odd how easy it is to say something snappy or have a negative thought about a loved one who’s right there with you. Then suddenly, when that person is absent, you realize how dumb all of those thoughts were.

I’m realizing how dumb it is that I almost divorced my husband over mowing the lawn about a month ago. Well, I suppose I didn’t ACTUALLY almost divorce him. But even that I wanted to. How dumb. He takes such good care of us. And his patience and steadiness are unmatched among all other people I know. And as I’ve mentioned many a time, he’s just so darn handsome. Isn’t it funny how you forget how loved ones look–whether they are attractive or unattractive, after long enough, you just see the person and no longer notice his or her beauty (or lack thereof)?

I just can’t wait until he’s home. Not because I need his help–due to his work schedule, he can’t really help too much around the house. I just miss him. He’s such a wonderful man.

What a rambling post! Goodness. Oh, I DO have stories as I said before. But because I’m having these SO-in-love-with-husband thoughts, it seems best to post them. A blog can’t be comprised SOLELY of jokes about one’s spouse. Well, yes it could. But not mine. See, I just proved it with this post. hahahahahah!!!

I haven’t written in 10 days. Bad girl. Well, I can’t be that bad. Look at my reason for not writing:

He was born on Thursday. Not only is he the cutest little treasure I’ve ever seen, but his little newborn sighs, his sweet little baby scent, and his soft-as-rose petals skin…He is truly a slice of heaven. Plus, he looks identical to both of his brothers when they were born (though the older boys look very different now.)

As you can imagine, over the course of these 10 very important ones at that, numerous husband tales have accumulated. I have stories about really noticeable, dreadful-looking earthquake proofing that made our already quite ugly apartment even uglier (!). I have tales about my husband’s baby preparation advice and assistance (which resulted in nothing being ready for baby when baby came home–that was fun). I have other stories too. And photos. They’ll be posted soon.

Meanwhile, isn’t my newborn SWEET?????

I am thrilled that my husband is finally wearing summer clothes–he hasn’t worn a T-shirt for 9 years of marriage (until this summer, per previous postings). Now he wears T-shirts all the time. Well, he wears ONE T-shirt all the time, despite having purchased oh, 10 or 15 new T-shirts for himself over the past year. But hey, I’m just thankful it’s not the usual sweatshirt or turtle neck he usually wears in the summer. Too embarrassing.

BUT he is wearing the T-shirt with sweatpant like things. They are the thin, somewhat shiny material sweatpants with stripes down the side–I can’t remember the precise term for them, but there is one, and usually people laugh when they say it. But that’s okay. Also, the T-shirt is black, and the sweatpant things are dark blue with white stripes. Why his master’s degree in fine arts didn’t result in better color coordination, I would like to ask. Perhaps someone out there has some ideas?

But after 9 years of looking at these clothing shortcomings, I am pretty sure I am not fooling myself when I say, it doesn’t even bother me anymore. Wanna wear black and blue together? Wanna wear sweatpants in the summer? Oh, somewhat off topic, wanna have a full, very full might I add, beard and shave your head bald as you did today? Also off topic, don’t mind that long hair that is sticking out of your nose? Be my guest. I no longer notice details like these, except perhaps the nose hair. Whatever. He’ll cut it eventually. Fortunately, my husband has beautiful dark, mysterious eyes, a hot jawline, and a very pleasant build–I try to focus on these things.

OH, but back to my story. His dark blue sweatpants somehow ended up with a kid’s white sticker thing stuck to the butt. I pointed out the sticker to him, and he pulled it off. It left a huge patch of semi-transparent white sticker residue. So, in short, there’s a white spot on the butt of these pants.

To make matters worse, these are “the pants of the month” (meaning he wears them each day for about a month). He keeps wearing them every day. I finally reminded him that there’s a white spot on the butt, and it’s really visible.

His response, “Oh I know. No one cares about that.” And then he just keeps wearing the pants. To work, to stores, wherever he wants to go.