Things My Husband Says

Hey there, blog. Long time no see. It turns out that living with my husband diminishes the need I feel to write a blog whose primary purpose had been communicating with/entertaining him. Sorry.

Aaanyway… I do have some stuff that I think I should start writing about, as part of my general life process. Let’s have a list, shall we?

• Bicycling. Despite the fact that Sexy Husband is the primary driving force behind me getting on a bike and owning down on that shit, I’m starting to feel a little bad for interrupting his video game playing with a thousand constant tiny biking victories. (That may be a little sarcasm.) I am pretty proud of myself, and I think I should share it here, so the real people in my life don’t start getting burnt out on hearing about it.
• Meditation. I’ve been going to a Shambhala meditation approximately weekly, and really enjoying it. I think I need to be more diligent about meditating at home, and expanding the usefulness of that practice in my life. I still feel uncertain about how that should progress, and I think some navel-gazing writing about it may help.
• Making Things. My New Year’s resolution was to make more things. I have had some mixed success with this overall, I think. I don’t want this to become a knitting blog, because I am a super lazy and sporadic knitter these days, but I should be better about telling you (me) about what I’m knitting, and keeping track of the many things I am fermenting and baking.
• Life stuff. This is a broad category. When I sat down today, it was largely due to a couple of interactions we’ve had with friends this week. I wanted to write about the nature of friendship as an adult, and do a little musing on relationships and whatnot. I’m not going to do that right this moment, but I want to do more of that. Life at 30 has a lot more interesting developments in that realm than I would have imagined.
• Taking pictures of things. This is not actually something I should write about, it’s just something I should be doing. We’ll see.

Things I won’t be blogging about here, at least much: Pie. Pie has its own blog now, which I am currently actively procrastinating, in part because I can’t find the card reader thingy, so I can’t move the pictures I did take from the camera to the computer.

It looks like I’m heading into an extraordinarily busy time in my life, but I’m trying to embrace the idea that busy people are more effective at getting stuff done. The reality is that I’m going to have to get a lot better about using my calendar, which is a thing I HATE. Meh. Oh well. Onward, forward soldiers, as we say in this house!

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I really love the layout of your blog” (his doing, btw)

“Yeah?”

“I like the way it has the bird at the top, then when you get to the bottom it’s Drinky Crow!”

“Yeah?” (I’m drinking, not the best conversation, sorry)

“Yeah! It starts out all cute, and then it gets dirty. Just like you.”

Um, so, yeah… moving! It’s awesome! We’re done!

I just unpacked the last box of kitchen stuff, which leaves us with just two big rubbermaid bins of ‘miscellaneous’ stuff to sort through, so I’m willing to say we’re actually done. Damn, though, this shit is exhausting. I left for the parents’ house Wednesday before last, and just unpacked my last box today. It’s actually a much better turn around than I’m used to when moving. Sexy Husband is a very industrious man, I must say.

Not only are we all moved in and unpacked, but it looks like adults live here! Adults who don’t have a ton of furniture, but adults nonetheless! We have art! I knew we did, but it looks like a lot in our little space. And we got houseplants, to supplement the ones that SH brought with him from before. So far we haven’t killed any of them, and they all seem to be thriving, which is awesome!

I don’t know whether I mentioned this before: new kitchen is super tiny. It’s actually bigger than the one in another apartment we looked at, but still only barely big enough for SH and myself to both stand in. Trying to fit my life into it is like playing epic Jenga, which would be awesome, if I didn’t totally blow at Jenga.

We got a gift off our registry over the weekend! A lovely giant stainless wok, full to brimming with mardi gras beads and tiny dinosaurs! OMG. And I made yogurt! New house is full of win!

I forgot to eat lunch yesterday. I hate when that happens. I did eat some trail mix, but it’s really not the same. Luckily for me, I was Stumbling the day before, and came across this recipe for 90 minute, no soak beans. After being chastised on the internet, I mended my ways and ate a hot bowl of leftover magic with salsa and avocado and grated cheese. And just like that, all was right with the world (y’know, kind of).

Now, my childhood was spent much closer to financial collapse than I ever realized, and beans have always been a significant part of my diet. Growing up, my mom (and eventually us kids) would rinse and sort them, soak them overnight in the crock pot, and let them cook all day. Lately I’ve been ‘power cooking’ them: covering with water, bringing to a boil, then simmering for a couple hours. It’s not the best method, but I’m not really doing very well at planning ahead, and it gets the job done. The 90-minute recipe is not that much different from my lazy way, but makes an astoundingly better bean. And it utilizes the Dutch Oven, which is always a bonus for me.

To quote someone on the internet, I’m not a food blogger; being a food blogger is hard. I barely feel like it’s appropriate to call myself a blogger at all. But you know what I am comfortable with? How much I love beans. I have eaten a lot of beans in my lifetime, and they make me happy. So happy! I suspect that Sexy Husband is not as thrilled as I am with my weekly decision to make a pot of beans and call it a meal, but he doesn’t say anything. And here’s the really nice thing: for the most part, they really don’t make me gassy. And knowing that they’re waiting for me in the fridge for that moment when I realize that I’m mad at the internet because I don’t have any blood sugar is definitely something everyone should be able to get behind.

After much procrastination, then a flurry of activity in the beginning of last week, Sexy Husband and I got our wedding invitations this weekend! They are super cute, and totally custom, and I am thrilled. I’m sure that, if youve been paying attention, you know that we’re a little quirky, and not exactly the type to have a ‘traditional’ wedding. It’s not going to be an outrageous affair, just a true reflection of who we are and the love that we share. These invitations are perfect for that wedding. The wording is modern, they’re super simple, they include the information for both our website and our online RSVP, and they are adorable. So happy!

Now I just have to address them. Sigh.

The little lady (as SH and I refer to her) is not the brightest bulb in the box. On our second first date, SH was telling me about the confused looks he got at the dog park when describing her as “part Boston Terrier, part llama.” It made perfect sense to me; Mr. Bad Cat went through a period when I told people he’s half Border Collie, half asshole. I did meet her on that date, but I don’t have much memory of her behavior then. I think there was some whining, and her being put in another room, but it’s pretty vague.

Since that date, she and I have developed a pretty good relationship, for the most part. She’s can get a little bit of an attitude when we walk, and I do not like to take her to the dog park, because I cease to exist once we’re inside the airlock. On the other hand, she sometimes makes her papa sad by appearing more happy to see me than him when we come home. She also stays in bed with me in the morning when he leaves for work. I didn’t think anything of that, but apparently she has never chosen hanging out with another person over being where he is.

So, yeah, she’s a little bit of a jerk, but she is, as he’s fond of saying, “a love.” And she gets the concept that not every person wants her in their lap at every moment, which is a really important quality in a dog. My parents’ ridiculously fat Rottweiler mix? He does not have that concept. In addition to missing my near-husband, I also miss my little lady. (sad face.)

Sexy Husband has, from time to time, accused me of having babies on the brain. This may be related to a conversation we had on our third fourth date, wherein I told him that I would have babies with him. I stand by that statement, but it does not actually mean that I’m one of those weeping-at-diaper-commercials, sperm-stealing, walking biological clocks. I just had a very clear realization of the quality of his character, and that he is the kind of man that I want to share a lifelong commitment with. As an added bonus, he is a smoking hot man who has gotten into my pants on both our first dates, and we will have beautiful, curly-headed babies. But I do have what can generously be termed a ‘childbearing plan,’ and it’s not “freak out about something adorable and get knocked up.”

However, there are a couple things I encounter in my daily life that clearly didn’t get the memo about this plan.

Your Baby Can Read!: You may be starting to gather this about me, but I watch a lot of cartoons. I would feel uncomfortable disclosing how many hours of cartoons I watch on a weekly basis, both those intended for kids and the grown-up fare. Whatever time I’m watching, I cannot escape the ads for “Your Baby Can Read,” the internet’s #1 baby brain-enhancement scam. The creepy precocious kids in it don’t do anything to my ovaries, but I totally want to convince SH that we need “Your Baby Can Read” for when the time comes. Obviously he will be better at its implementation than I will, but I will fake it ’til the babies are old enough to hold knitting needles.

Facebook’s ‘how to get pregnant’ ads: I just ignore most of the wedding-related ones, but I got really annoyed about the pregnancy and baby-product ads, so I started telling FB to make them go away. And what do they replace them with? “Get Pregnant in 1 Step!” Note to Facebook advertisers: I know how to get pregnant in one step, and I don’t need to buy it from anyone on the internet (though SH believes the internet would buy it from me.)

Sam Worthington: Mmmmmm, Sam Worthington… actually, it doesn’t really matter whether he got the memo. He doesn’t get to be an active participant in the baby-making process, and he’s not hurting it from over there on the cover of Esquire.

And Sexy Husband? He beats Sam Worthington everyday. Jesus crap, that man is a sexy human being. I am an extraordinarily lucky lady, and could only be luckier if he were here with me.