on loving a husband and a baby.

 the other day charlie was (hopefully) joking around with his mom and made a comment about the people that i love in the order that i love them.  he said it goes "avery, me, then the dogs".  and his mom said "well at least you know how it is".  here's the thing that no one tells you when you have a baby:  after all the newness wears off and you settle into routines, there will come a time when your husband feels like your love the baby more than him.

for me, before avery was born, it was sort of impossible to imagine how i would feel about her.  i wasn't one of those people who felt really connected with her when i was pregnant.  maybe this was partially due to not finding out whether she was a he or a she; i couldn't picture her/him before i know who i was picturing.  anyway, when i was pregnant i couldn't imagine loving this baby nearly as much as i loved my husband.  not even close.  and then avery was born.  it wasn't 'love at first sight' for me as i've heard so many people describe, it was more like meeting someone i already knew.  when i saw her for the first time i remember thinking 'well, of course that's you' and i sort of imagine she felt the same way.  it wasn't love at first sight because we already knew each other.  we were just meeting face-to-face for the first time.

and honestly, having a baby has only made me love my husband even more.  even when it's 4 am and she's been up 3 times already that night and we're arguing about how to sleep-train or not sleep-train the baby.  there's no one else in the world i'd want to be in this mess with.  watching him with her makes me so happy.  he does things with her that i don't, plays with her in different ways & teaches her things that i wouldn't think about.  so in no way do i love him less than i ever did.  but the love that i have for that baby?  it's far greater than i ever could have imagined.  it's not more than the love that i have for charlie; it's just different.  the love that i have for avery is more of a protective thing.  i'd do anything for her; give anything for her; and the thought of anything or anyone hurting her -- well, there's nothing i wouldn't do to stop it.  i don't feel that way about charlie.  sure, i've got his back but i'm not about to punch a bear in the face for him.  maybe it's because i know he can take care of himself & she's still so small and helpless.  maybe, it's just a parent thing.  maybe it's a mom thing.  i don't know.  but i do know that having a baby has multiplied the love in my life in a way that i couldn't have imagined.  and charlie?  know this:  when i'm rocking the baby, or feeding the baby, or pacing the halls to get her to fall asleep:  i'm thinking of you.  and missing you.  and when we do get that precious alone time, it means more to me than it ever did. 

roadtrip

i'm pretty sure that half the fun of going somewhere is getting there.

not the driving.  i let charlie do that.  but some of the prettiest scenery is from our house to our destination.  and some of the most fun we have is in the car.

life of a wife.

or really, life of a person in a committed relationship (but it didn't rhyme nearly as nicely with life).

today i am taking my list final for 2010.

and what should be my third-to-last final for all of school. eek!

it's a good thing that the end is near today because i can tell you that i've been really crappy at maintaining relationships lately. phone calls, emails, christmas presents, etc. have all taken third place behind school and work. i suppose it can't be helped really. i mean we all have to prioritize the things in our lives and i just happen to pick a paycheck and a degree for the top of my list right now. but, that doesn't change the fact that i feel very guilty sometimes for this choice.

i've been a terrible wife lately. friday is charlie's birthday and i've had him make all the plans, i told him just go go buy his present, and i don't even have a card or a cake for him right now. that's right, i don't even have a card for my husband's birthday.

however, i did wake up at 5 am to go skiing with him on saturday. trust me, that is love.

i'm excited that school is almost done and that i'm going to celebrate christmas with my family.

but it's driving me insane that i haven't mailed our christmas cards or bought anyone a present. i keep reminding myself that those things aren't what the holidays are suppose to be about. that what matters is that we're spending time together.

but it does make me wish for a slightly more balanced life. one where family and friends are at the top of my priority list. someday soon ... hopefully.

disclaimer & backstory: when i started working at my current job i came in on my third day of work to find this copy from a magazine on my desk. no note. no explanation. nothing. obviously i chose not to say anything considering the fact that i was brand new and i had no idea who had left it there in the first place. i was also hoping that it was a joke. at the end of the day, one of the guys i work with came by and told me he was the one i had left i there. and then we got into a lovely discussion regarding male and female roles. i have to admit that over time my own views of the roles i want in my own marriage are changing. that being said, i can say that i would never remove charlie's shoes for him (unless physically he was incapable) and if he came home to the sound of the washing machine and dishwasher i think he should be grateful that some cleaning was going on. i'm sure you've seen this before, its been floating around for years, but regardless, enjoy.

How to be a good wife ...

Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal -- on time. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal is part of the warm welcome needed.

Prepare yourself. Take fifteen minutes to rest so that you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your makeup, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. he has just been with a lot of work-weary people. Be a little gay and a little more interesting. His boring day may need a lift.

Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives, gathering up school books, toys, paper, etc. Then run a dust cloth over the tables. your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too.

Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces if they are small, comb their hair and if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part.

Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, dishwasher, or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. Be happy to see him, greet him with a smile and be glad to see him.

Some don'ts: Don't greet him with problems or complaints. Don't complain if he's late for dinner. Count this as minor compared with what he might have gone through that day. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or suggest he lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soft, soothing and pleasant voice. Allow him to relax and unwind.

Listen to him. You may have a dozen things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first.

Make the evening his: never complain if he doest not take you out to dinner or to other places of entertainment. Instead, try to understand his world of strain of pressure, his need to be home and relax.

Your goal: Try to make your home a place of peace and order where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

-- Taken from a Home Economics textbook in the 1950s

love.

dear charlie,

remember friday night, when i convinced you that beers on the patio were a much better plan than a movie in the theater? well, i do. in fact it's nights like those that i love more than anything. you + me + some good music + a drink or two + henry sleeping next to us = good times. it's so nice to take a break from tv, computers, and phones for a bit.

lets have more nights like that.

love you, dan

ps. remember when i told you that i seriously loved our life? i wasn't kidding. it's awesome & i wouldn't trade it for anything. we're lucky, lucky people.

one year.

happy 1 year anniversary!

last year was a whirlwind of pictures, people, music, vows, and dresses.

my favorite part was when we got to the hotel, sat down, had a bottle of champagne, and realized that we were married.

"you don't have to be perfect to belong in this place. you don't have to have all the answers, or always know the right thing to say. you can climb the highest mountain if you want. or quietly imagine that you might, someday. you can take chances, or take safety nets, make miracles or make mistakes. you don't have to be composed at all hours to be strong here. you don't have to be bold or certain or be brave. you don't have to have all the answers here. or even know who you want to be. just take my hand, and rest your heart, and stay awhile with me."

~ashley rice.

pretty much sums it up. love you.

telluride with charlie!

Happy Anniversary weekend!

no rehearsal dinner, wedding dress, or family brunches this year.

"i accept him, i love him, just as he is.
he accepts me, loves me, just as i am.
we choose each other. everyday.
it isn’t puppies and rainbows and cotton candy under a starry sky.
but it’s the biggest love that i’ve ever known."

"love is not a place,
to come and go as we please,
it's a house we enter in,
and then commit to never leave.
so lock the door behind you,
and throw away the key.
we'll work it out together."
.warren.barfield.

there are some weeks i really wish charlie didn't travel all the time.

this is one of them.

miss you, dude. hurry home.

ikea love.

ikea i love you.

and hate you.

i love you for everything you have.

i hate you for not being close to me. not even a little bit.

so, i wanted to order this chair off of ikea. the chair was $240.

do you know how much they wanted to charge me for shipping!

$260 freaking dollars. $260!!!!! um, that's more than the stupid chair.

unfortunately, if i'm going to pay $500 for a chair than i want a $500 chair. and for $500 i shouldn't have to assemble anything myself.

speaking of assembly, how much do ikea's stupid assembly directions suck? ever heard of words!!! nooooo .... they're all, "who needs words? these are international directions, for children who haven't started reading yet". i have yet to put together something from ikea without going through several drinks at the same time.

when charlie and i first moved in together, we bought these end tables (which i painted blue a year later and no i wasn't drunk when i picked the color). well we decided to have a "race" to see who could put the end table together first. while we were drinking beer. and we both ended putting the little doors on the end table backwards. maybe it's a good think i painted them ... there were nail holes around the edges.

i want this bedroom.

happy birthday, dude

holy crap, you're getting old. ;)

reasons why i love this man:

1. there is zero chance of us ever forgetting something when we leave the house. he double, triple, and quadruple checks that we have everything. twice.

2. every morning he pours himself a full cup of coffee. and every morning he only drinks about half of it before dumping the rest out and pouring himself another.

3. he actually encouraged me to go to school. although studying is a different matter.

4. i've never heard him say, "you can't do that".

5. he can watch out cold once a month during the winter and not get sick of it.

6. he can survive off of 5 hours of sleep and not bitch about it like i do.

7. when he cooks something, he first measures out everything in little dishes and then starts to cook.

8. he read all 5 off the dan brown books this year.

9. when we got ourselves stuck on a mountain, with no cell service, he didn't freak out.

10. he's a ridiculously hard worker.

11. he makes some mean cupcakes.

12. he gets as excited about decorating for christmas as i do.

13. when he asked me to marry him he was super nervous.

14. on my birthday he got up super early to make me breakfast.

15. he is the yin to my yang, the cream in my coffee, and yes, the cheese to my macaroni (although, i like to think that i'm the cheese and he's the macaroni).

happy birthday. hope it was everything you imagined your 27th birthday would be. and more.

happy 6 months of marriage.

dear husband aka charles aka dude,

happy 6 months. they've been fabulous, awesome, amazing, etc. but seriously, being married has been way better than being engaged. perhaps because we're not planning a wedding?! or maybe just because i love you so much. even when you don't take the trash out. maybe because you love me even though i hate cooking. here's to the next 6 months! and the ones after that, and the ones after that, and the ones after that ... and lots of takeout.

love, d

Skiing

I knew when we moved to Colorado we'd be doing a lot more "outdoorsy" stuff. It was one of the reasons that I wanted to move there. Well, mainly for the hiking.

What I found out is that, people in Colorado are like outdoor extremists. They do everything. And they do everything well. It's not just good enough to hike. They hike, and bike, and run the hikes. They downhill ski, and nordic ski, and snowshoe. They climb rocks, and mountains, and glaciers. You name it. They do it. Me, I just like to hike. Now my husband ... he wants to do all of that other stuff as well. On the same day. Better than anyone else.

Last year we skied once. It was nice (and freezing) and I was perfectly satisfied with that. But Charlie wanted to get season passes this year and be one of those people that wakes up at 5 am on a Saturday to beat everyone else to the mountain. I like my sleep. So the great debate about passes began. Charlie was definitely getting a pass, but I was leaning towards a 4-pass. Sounded nice. 4 times. no pressure to ski more. And then I found out that there are blackout dates on the 4-pass and that as a student I get an awesome deal on a season pass. So I became a season pass holder.

Now I have to be honest. Skiing scares me. And when people are already dying on some blue trails in November I get even more scared.

Last weekend we went to Winter Park for our first skiing of the '09-'10 season. It was fine at first (remember we were the first freaking people on the mountain.) But after a few hours it got really icy. Probably because there were so many people. There were only 2 runs open. And all of their snow was blown snow. Anyway, around 2 I told Charlie that I wanted to head out. Because of the ice and me being a wuss. He wanted one more run. So we went up for the last time. And on our way down I fell. Which is really not surprising because I do that a lot. But this time I was going pretty fast and I hit a huge patch of ice. And I'm not kidding when I say that I slid down half the run on my back, did a backwards summersault, slid down some more on my face, and then finally rolled to a stop. When I finally recovered from my epic fall and crawled down the rest of the run, I found Charlie who asked me if I was crying, because my face was covered in snow. No dammit, I'm not crying I'm pissed.

I told Charlie that our Christmas presents to each other were going to be helmets this year. Because I'm only 26. And maybe wearing a helmet will make me less of a wuss. Maybe.

This was before I was covered in snow and ice.

Oh, Jeep ...

Now I know what you're thinking, "that is not a Jeep", and you're right, it's not. WHY is it not a Jeep? Well, that's a good question. That's not a Jeep because Jeep sucks. That's not a Jeep because they make shitty cars that refused to ever be fixed. That's not a Jeep because our Jeep is a piece of crap that would rather spend its time in the mountains then with us. That's not a Jeep because even though labor prices are twice as high in the mountains they still can't fix a vehicle. That's not a Jeep because the gods are enjoying messing with us as much as possible. Take your pick.

So I mentioned before that Charlie's Jeep sort of got stuck in the mountains. And then that they couldn't fix it because the part was on backorder. Anyway, they finally were able to fix it, and on Friday we drove out to get it. We pick it up and on the way back I notice that the Jeep is spewing smoke like it's on fire. So I call Charlie. No answer. I call again. No answer. I honk. Nothing. Finally I cut him off and pull over on the side of the interstate. People must have thought I was some crazed lunatic. Honking, swerving, yelling and waving my phone. I was lucky there were no cops around. Anyway, we pull over and notice that not only is it smoking it's leaking fluid. A lot of it. Lovely. So we call the Jeep dealer and they're like "bring it back". Ok, I officially hate you.

We got back to the dealer and it was like pulling into a garage at the Indy 500. About 5 people come running up, pop the hood, start looking under the car ... all to say, yeah, it's definitely leaking fluid. Hmmm ... do you think the trail leading into the garage might have given that one away?

So now we're waiting and waiting and waiting for them to fix it. Finally, they figure out that they can't fix it because they have no idea where the leak is coming from. Awesome. So they gave us that fancy car as a loaner for a while. I finally feel like a Coloradan. I figure about 99.76% of the population drive Subarus.

Now the fancy loaner Forester is a stick shift, which my ever supportive, husband told me, "you can't drive this. You don't really know how to drive a manual. You do it wrong." What? I do it wrong? Do I get from point A to B without stalling, grinding gears, or causing traffic pile ups? Seriously, he should really know me better at this point. I am like a 3 year old. Tell me not to touch something; I'm going to touch it. Tell me I can't drive the car; you can bet I'm going to drive it. So of course I did. And of course I could. I mean, there's really only one way to drive a stick shift. Unless you're driving a race car or unless I'm missing something. I'm hoping that we can just keep this and leave the Jeep at the dealer. I doubt it. I can't imagine anyone wanting to keep that Jeep.

sugar = flour ...

... yeah, not so much. I have class at night this semester which means a lot less home cooked meals. [Oh, who am I kidding? It means an excuse not to cook.] Anyway, tonight I came home to Charlie slaving over the stove. He had made his famous tuna casserole (recipe via Rachel Ray).

Now I mentioned that since we moved our new kitchen is a lot smaller than our previous one, which means waaay less storage space. So one of the things I did to save space was put all of our flour and sugar into jars and store them on top of the cabinets.

Well the recipe calls for flour & Charlie couldn't tell which one to use, so he guessed. When I got home he was like "it's the one in the small jar, right?" and I just started laughing. The small jar happens to be confectionary sugar. That tuna casserole was nice and sweet. Almost like a 2 for 1 dessert and dinner. Poor guy, I hope he keeps on cooking. :)

Wedding Recap: The husband

For me, this was the most important "wedding detail" of all. And frankly, I think I did pretty well and here's why:

1. He loves animals.

2. He's not afraid to make a fool of himself.

3. He climbs mountains with me.

4. He's thoughtful, caring, & can always make me laugh.

5. He moved across the country for me and never makes me feel guilty for it.

6. He's most definitely, without a doubt, my best friend.

... love you, dude.

Pillow talk

So I had some gift certificates to Crate and Barrel and I've been wanting to get some throw pillows that didn't scream "Man's Apartment" or "Everything in this apartment is red". Yes, my pillows talk to me. They make statements. Anyway, I ran across the street to C&B and got some boring stuff and another pillow. I threw it on the couch and then waited to see what C would say about it. I waited. Nothing. I waited more. Still nothing. Finally I gave up. And this is what went down:

Me: "Do you notice anything different?"

C: "Huh."

Me: "Is there anything in here that looks different to you? Anything that wasn't here 30 minutes ago?"

C: "Oh, are you talking about that hideous pillow on the couch? Yeah, I noticed that. Seriously, that is the ugliest pillow I have ever seen in my life. It goes with nothing. It's so ugly I can't even describe how ugly it is."

Me: **laughing too hard to say anything**

So here's the offending pillow. I have my reasons for why I think it goes. Plus, I'm not really a matchy-matchy person, obviously. I painted side tables bright blue, our bookshelf is two-toned, and I could care less about coordinating furniture. Go ahead, you can tell me what you think. I promise I won't be offended. C would love to have some people back him up.

Sweetest. Thing. Ever.

I was in the car driving to school when this guy called the radio station and said, "Please play this song for my wife". He goes on to say that she's the most amazing woman he's ever met, that he can't describe exactly what is is that she has but if you play this song for her then "she'll know". He ended with, "You have to play this song because it will make her smile and when she smiles it lights up the whole room". Of course he got his song played, how can you refuse a request like that?

I had never heard the song before, but let me tell you, it's just as sweet (if not sweeter) than his request.

The fact that I love country music is not a secret by any means, but between this song and "Chick Fried" I think Zac Brown Band may just be my favorite artist.

The Newlywed Game

If you know me you know that I have zero interest in cooking. Oh sure, sometimes I feel guilty about it and manage to make a few meals in a row. Usually consisting of pasta, a can of tomato sauce, and frozen broccoli. mmmmm..... I have found that if you vary the types of pasta you use each night you can technically say that you're making something different. "No... see last night was ziti tonight is macaroni. Totally different meals." Now it's not that I can't cook. I can. I just don't like it. In fact ... I'd go as far as to say that I hate it. It's just not my thing.

I always figured that C had accepted this about me. His attitude has really been "I hate cooking too so I can't exactly expect you to be all Susie Homemaker in the kitchen". Well last weekend we were playing the Newlywed Game (by the way if you've never played I personally believe that there should be a disclaimer on the box freeing them from any responsibility should the couple break up). And I think that C brought up my cooking skills at least 5 times. The night went something like this ...

Q: "What's the one thing you would improve about your partner?"

C: Her cooking.

Q: "If you were to raise your partner's [blank] and lower her [blank] your relationship would be drastically improved."

C: Her desire to cook, Her lack of desire to cook

Q: "You love [blank] about your partner but you hate [what]."

C: Her cleaning, Her cooking

Ok, Ok ... I get the point. I guess C would definitely like to see a few more home cooked meals on the table. I can't blame him ... I would too. Meanwhile, I'm staying away from the Newlywed game and serving Subway for dinner. Hey, at least it's healthy.

uh-oh .... watch out for this one!