Six Years Hitched

Yesterday was our sixth wedding anniversary and we may have possibly hit an all-time low on the romance scale. Asher and I spent the weekend at my mom's (again) while Stephen worked all weekend (again), so we didn't even get to spend the day together. We did enjoy a lovely dinner at the very fancy Olive Garden, complete with a delicious dessert of tiramisu, and the best part was we ate for FREE. You know, because we dined with my parents (who were nice enough to treat us, as usual). And the baby. ROMANTIC, I know.

But that's okay. Something I've learned about us over the years is that we simply aren't the romantic kind of people. Sure, we hold hands and are affectionate and say "I love you" to each other all the time. But we aren't very mushy about it. It's all sort of matter-of-fact. Maybe it's because we've been together for twelve years and are way past trying to impress one another or proving our love to the other. Really, though, I think it's largely to do with the fact that we're both very, very lazy. Romance takes a lot of time, energy, and effort that we just aren't willing to put forth.

I love our un-romantic life together, though. I love being with someone who lets me be me, no holds barred, and loves me nevertheless. I love not feeling like I have to be wearing make-up at all times, or shaving every day, or showering every day. I love being able to belch and fart full force without fear of judgment. Everything is out in the open, our life is boring and maybe even a little lame, but it's real. And sometimes smelly.

Now that we have a baby, life has become even more real. In the past year, I've been amazed at how much lack of sleep, stress, hormones, and a grumpy baby can affect a marriage. I'm very glad that we waited as long as we did before throwing a baby into the mix because, honestly? I can completely understand how marriages can end once kids are in the picture. I thought there was no way our relationship could ever be shaken until we brought that little munchkin home from the hospital. Whew. Let's just say that Stephen's patience is ASTOUNDING. But seriously, it's been both strange and wonderful for me to watch my doting husband become a doting father and to go from being a couple to a family. When I think of us dating back in high school, it feels like that was a lifetime ago. In a good way.

Happy anniversary, Stephen. Thank you for putting up with me, thank you for being a wonderful father to our child, and thank you most of all for laughing with me every time I toot on the leather seats in the car. That's what makes this marriage work. You are the best and I love you more than life itself, and I mean that in a totally non-mushy way.

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So Much for Date Night

My kind-hearted little sister has been cooped up in the house with me and Stephen for the past five days. She's witnessed my snapping, my frustration, my complaints, and my impatience toward Stephen. She's noted the whopping ten minutes we have to spend together daily. She even pointed out to me the other night that, hey, you guys didn't have sex last night - else, she would have heard us on the baby monitor.

She's seen the bruising of our marriage.

With Stephen currently working two jobs, and with me working full-time and then caring for Asher in the evenings, there simply isn't time for us anymore. For instance, as of right now, I haven't seen my husband since yesterday at 7:20 a.m. because he had to stay overnight in Evansville last night for work. Normally, I would be dying, just dying, from missing him. Sadly, though, it really hasn't felt any differently than any normal evening. That's how little time we've been spending together the past couple of weeks.

So lovely Jamie decided Stephen and I need to go out on a date and generously insisted on watching Asher tonight. I've been so excited about this. He and I have gone out once - ONCE - alone since Asher was born, and that was only like two weeks after Asher was born for about two hours, when Jamie was here the last time helping us out. We desperately need some time together, if nothing else, so I can remember what it's like to look at him without wanting to pull his hair out and he can remind himself that his wife is capable of looking like something other than a mental patient.

Because this post exists, you know date night hasn't happened. Instead, here I sit, posting to my lame-ass blog. Stephen's work took a little longer to do, and then on his way home he ran into some pretty bad storms and had to GO TO THE MALL to ride the storm out. Bastard. So he's not home, yet, and I'm hungry, cranky and tired, and to top it all off, it's storming outside.

It's a damn good thing I didn't waste my time shaving my legs this evening.

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Romance? What's That?

Stephen and I have never done much in the past to celebrate Valentine's Day. I don't know, there's something so false about the holiday - don't get me wrong, I love getting presents and going out to dinner and all that, but it's really never been a big deal to me. For some strange reason, Stephen has always been okay with me being low maintenance on V-Day. Hm. Even with that being said, we hit an all time low this year in celebrating the day.

We ate sloppy joes and french fries for dinner. I ate in the pajamas I was still wearing from the night before. No make up, hair unkempt (how else?) - I'm not even sure I'd brushed my teeth. I did, however, take a shower before I went to bed. I just didn't think it'd be fair for Stephen to have to go to bed with a stinky wife on Valentine's Day. Not that we'd be doing anything in bed, anyway, but still.

It was all good, though; Asher Bug was more than enough of a reminder of our love for each other. A very poopy, squawking, exhausting reminder. He actually was a very sweet baby yesterday, spending the majority of the day napping and, when awake, was in a fairly good mood. I took the below picture of him after our morning nap together. This was when I told him he could be my Valentine this year, because he sure knows the way to my heart. Sleep. That was the best gift ever. The two massive poopy diapers he gave me later that evening were just icing on the cake.

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In Sickness & in Health, We Celebrate Number Five

Today I decided to stay home from work and bask in the pleasures of being ill, which pretty much consists of laying around, moaning, groaning, sneezing, blowing my nose, and coughing. I won't complain too much, though - the last time I was ill I spent the day puking, nauseous, and bed-ridden. Give me a cold over the stomach flu any day. Needless to say, things haven't been very exciting around here the past week. Stephen was sick with the same crud last weekend that lingered around for the majority of last week. Lucky me - I read that, because pregnancy lowers the resistance of your immune system, illness tends to last a little longer in pregnant women, so maybe I'll get to experience two weeks of sick. Lovely.

In the midst of The Sick, Stephen and I celebrated our five-year wedding anniversary on Friday, the 28th, by bargain hunting for summer clothes on the clearance rack for Baby Neener at Old Navy and eating Papa John's pizza in the comfort of our living room while watching Law & Order. I can't say it was the most romantic evening we've ever spent together, but that two hours out of the house was pretty wild, indeed, considering the fact we were both feeling like crap. Stephen was very sweet, however, and brought home an autumnal bouquet of flowers for me, which are pictured below. (Notice Charlie in the picture, trying to gobble up leaves, who I tried to push numerous times away from the flowers but was unable to due to his insanely strong greenery obsession. This is why the flowers are being kept on top of the mantle, out of the reach of kitties' mouths.)

It's hard to believe it's been five years since our wedding day, but then again, it's also hard to believe we've only been married for five years since we've been together for eleven years total. I think the fact that we've been together since the beginning of our senior year of high school, back when we were still kids, makes it feel like we've been together all our lives. People have asked me whether I ever feel like I missed out in college and in my early twenties, not getting to date around and really become my own person. Honestly? Sure, occasionally at the time the grass would seem greener and I'd be envious of my friends who were dating lots of guys and partying and having fun. There were even a few times in early college when I struggled with the decision of whether or not to stay in my relationship with Stephen. But, luckily I was a smart girl and realized what a good guy I had. I often think about the fact that having found each other when we were so young probably also kept me out of a hell of a lot of trouble. Just think of what a giant whore or drunk I could have become! (Because, you know, that's so in my nature to be those things.) Looking back, I don't regret in the slightest my decision to stay with Stephen, rather than to "live it up" during my college years. I feel very blessed that we were able to sort of grow up together during that rocky transition from the teenage years to young adulthood. I'm happy that we were given the chance to grow slowly as a couple over our high school and college years so that when we finally were able to get married, we had already established a strong foundation between each other. And, as I sit here and feel Baby Neener kicking inside of me, I'm happy we waited five years into our marriage before having children so that we had plenty of time to mature into a couple wanting to start a family, wanting to further expand our relationship, rather than a couple feeling like they ought to start a family.

Anyway, happy anniversary to my Neener - thank you for putting up with me and my insanity over all these years and for being such a wonderful husband. I honestly can't wait to enter the next phase of our marriage in January.

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