So Proud

I am so proud of my husband. Even though it is a story that has been in the making for a few years, it will most likely not be a story that is ready to be told for another year or so. But he called me with an update--a teaser--that made me beam with pride. I believe in him, I have always believed in him. So why am I so proud? It really has nothing to do with the news he shared, but instead what I heard in his voice. He believes in himself. He believes in himself.

Happiness is in the (not) so little things

Every morning Hubby makes the coffee. Every morning it makes me smile. Every morning I tell him thank you. And I mean it. The smell of coffee wafting into our bedroom tells me he loves me.

We still have Silly Sally the cat. Hubby is now taking Allegra, we are feeding her homemade catfood (thanks Niksmom!), and we have trained her to use the doggy door that came with the house. I have never had an inside/outside cat before, but it was clear she needs both. I get absolutely giddy when I call her in for the evening and she runs to me from wherever she is, meowing. I scoop her up and listen to her happiness. And when I catch Hubby watching, I can tell that he knows how much I appreciate what he is tolerating so I can keep her.

But I know it's not all just for me.... ;)

How does your garden grow?

We've got tiny bean sprouts now, probably ready to harvest when we are ON VACATION! Ugh. But I did collect the arugula this afternoon and had some nice greens in my wrap. Rachael Ray would be proud; she likes her some arugula. Time to cut the Green Ice lettuce as well...so at least I'll have eaten something besides radishes before leaving the tendering (and eating) to our neighbors while we're gone.

Some of the cucumbers and one of the pumpkin plants has grown like 2 feet in a week. I have a lot of pretty herbs growing, and a basil plant that is the size of a large Mum! I think I could smell basil all day long... mmmmmmmmmm.

Even so, all I can think of is the new Thin Mint GS cookie Blizzard at DQ. If it's even half as good as the Edy's packaged version, I am all over it.



The flowers don't really show up on the cell phone pictures, but, I really enjoy sitting on the porch surrounded by them drinking a beer with Hubby when he gets home from work. That's our new summer tradition. I like it. Back in the day I was adamant that we wouldn't have beer in our fridge, since I didn't want the husband in the recliner drinking a beer kinda marriage. Instead I got the husband hunched over the computer/cell phone with only his mouse/keypad hand moving kinda marriage...


Last week








This week

Guess what?

So some one else in my immediate family is engaged. They announced it yesterday, like 1 month after they announced they were dating (sorry, that was a little dig). I think we're all a little "huh?" but happy at the same time.

I forgot to ask if I could put it on here, so I won't say who, but it ain't Sister, Mema, or me, obviously, since I'm so happily married and all. Let's just say, it looks like quick engagements may be genetic...

Seriously, I'm a pretty good judge of character, and anyone who plays with my boys and tolerates me and Hubby for an entire weekend and still wants to be a part of this family has to be a decent, patient human being.

Let the frantic gossip--I mean, phone calls--begin!

Dads

I gave my dad a card today that basically said I was a lot like him, but that I wouldn't hold that against him. I am a daddy's girl. Always have been. I have heard that I have my dad wrapped around my little finger before. I always despised that saying. Dad and I have a strong bond of respect and love. We've both put each other through some pretty rotten things, but we "get" each other I think.

Some day I think I may write an essay about my experience with my dad and being married to a dad. But not today. Too much work to do.

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

My favorite memory of my dad is the way he used to wake me up to take me to preschool. He used to sing:

Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.
Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more.

But the best was when he would change his voice and screech:

Woah Woman, oh woman, don't treat me so mean,
You're the meanest old woman that I've ever seen.

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

I posted a comment on another blog stating that basically Hubby being the dad that he is allows me to be the kind of mom I want to be. Watching Hubby as a father amazes me. Seeing him in the dad role has shown me so much of his character, and reminds me of why I fell in love with him so many years ago.

When we were dating in high school, we were getting ready to leave his parents' house. He stopped suddenly and said that he had to give his hamsters their vitamins. First, who gives their hamsters vitamins? And second, the worry in his voice was endearing. I watched him give them the vitamins and then they each got a little special treat too. As I watched, I knew that he would be a great father. And I was so right.

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

Reposting the videos I have so far, because without these boys, he would not be the father he is today!

Moosie's Birth (I will probably do Bubba's birth video for his next birthday!)

Daddy's Boys (pictures of boys are from birth to early-2007)

The Right Words

I was cleaning today (yes, what a shocker), and I came across a card that I gave Hubby at some point.

It read:

Love isn't in the falling...
It's in the staying there

I added the words "No matter how often we change, I'm glad we do it together."

Now I'm not saying we change in the same ways or even at the same time, but we're not afraid to learn from each other, resistant maybe, but not afraid.

Tis the Season

Everyone in this house now has a head cold.

What Bubba does with a head cold: The same thing he does without a head cold! Playing and whining about being bored, but also grossing us all out by making nasty juicy nose-sucking snorty sounds every few seconds.

What Moosie does with a head cold: The same thing he does without a head cold! Following his brother around, writing on stuff he shouldn't write on, but also grossing us out by using the little divid under his nose to channel his slimy green snot directly back into his person.

What Mommy does with a head cold: Clean house (including washing dishes, sweeping floors, wiping counters, vacuuming, laundry, scrubbing stinky toilets); make breakfast, lunch, and dinner; return Christmas gifts to some stores; purchase new Christmas gifts from other stores; wrap gifts; yada yada yada. (And, um, talk to my aunt, sister, and friend inbetween running errands, and hide in the office to blog.)

What Daddy does with a head cold: Sleep, bitch, and moan. And watch TV.

I suppose I bitch some too. But at least I accomplish something as I'm doing it.

The Best Present

I haven't received it exactly, but I have already gotten the best present ever. The other day Hubby said in a reserved, depressed tone, "I have to tell you something."

Now normally that is not a good sentence for a spouse to say. It generally means bad information will follow, like "I just ate all of the cookies and candies you spent weeks making" or worse yet "I just tasted all of the cookies and candies you spent weeks making and they tasted like ass. I must now vomit."

But then Hubby repeated it again in tooting-his-own-horn fashion, "I really have to tell you something. [They] said you would be mad and that I should tell you."

Now, I wasn't born yesterday (or the day before). Hubby can't keep secrets and tries to leak out clues just as obvious as he leaks out evidence of having eaten out for lunch again. But he stretches out the "I should tell you..." comments for a good minute or so until I tell him to get to the point.

"I got you something for Christmas."

My eyes instantly well up. We decided we weren't buying each other gifts this year. Not even a "we-need-a-new-[insert mildly expensive household item]" combo gift. So I am emotional not in anger or in happiness, but in guilt. What is it with me and guilt already?

So I say nothing. And Hubby pushes onward, batting his sweet impulsive eyes, to give me the best gift ever.

"You told me not to get you anything for Valentine's Day. You told me not to get you anything for Mother's Day. You told me not to get you anything for our tenth anniversary. You told me not to get you anything for your birthday. Well screw it. You deserve a present. A real present. I'm tired of not getting you a present. We're already in debt. So too bad. I spent money. I bought you a present from me and the boys. You do so much for us. You are taking the damn present. The girls at the office told me to tell you. They said you'd be pissed if I didn't tell you."

So thoughts really do matter. That rambling mess of a statement from my mess of a man was the best present ever.

I don't know what he got me and I'm trying to ignore his "patting-himself-on-the-back" clues. Maybe the office ladies offered the biggest clue of all, maybe I will be pissed when I actually get the present.

But, since Hubby is constantly poking me and reminding me of his thoughtfulness, I don't have time to ponder the possible material present nor my overwhelming feelings of guilt and uncertainty of how to respond to his gesture of appreciation.

"You know, your eyes were kind of tearing up when I told you about your present..."

"Oh stuff it. Seriously. I take it back."

Right Fit

After working for a couple of hours this morning, I came up and thanked Hubby. I must be awful to live with when I get in these cycles, if not all of the time.

I thanked Hubby for being patient with me, especially since I have no patience with him under similar circumstances. Then after a hug and a pause I said, "Well, it's not really anything to do with patience, it's more that you just don't have an attention span."

He laughed that laugh that means I nailed it right on the head. So I thanked him for just being him.

I can't always say that we are a perfect fit, but we are the right fit. He knows me and I know him...every quirky, stinkin' issue and every wonderful, blessed strength.