Husband Clothes

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.

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?????

This man never ceases to amaze me. I say this STILL experiencing husband attention and favors and politeness almost equal to our dating phase. I’m getting lots of special treatment from my husband, above and beyond the norm. We’re talking car doors getting opened for me and stuff. I’m totally happy about this.

Anyway, today, we go to get a bassinet from an acquaintance of mine. The couple’s beautiful, beautiful 10-week old baby BOY is sleeping on a bed beside the bassinet. Their beautiful 7-year old GIRL and her cute 6-year old BROTHER are sitting on a couch watching TV. Let me add that the girl has looooong pigtails in her hair with a pink dress on. The 10-week old baby BOY has a blue onsie on.

So, we’re checking out the bassinet, as I share with the parents about how I have 2, soon to be 3 boys. The mother, my acquaintance, talks about how it is to have 2 boys and 1 girl. We’re talking about how cute the baby boy is. Lots of “boy” and “girl” talk going on. Meanwhile, my husband is checking out the bassinet. Then he made 2 trips to take the bassinet to the car, and we left.

On the way home, my husband asks, “So, is their baby a boy or a girl?” (Remember, the baby was lying RIGHT BESIDE THE BASSINET. In his BLUE OUTFIT.)

I answered his question and didn’t bother to tell him how odd it was that he could have possibly not known the answer himself…

Then he says, “Oh. Were the older kids also boys?”  Clearly, he missed the plain view of the older two children as we walked through the front door AND back out of it–the girl was sitting right by the door watching TV. And he also clearly ignored the entire conversation, brief as it was, the mother and I had as he stood beside us checking out the bassinet.

Interesting, hu? By the way, for me, the even stranger part of this story is that he actually drove us to get a USED bassinet and didn’t complain about it at ALL. In his eyes, used things are simply the work of the devil. Used things must not be touched. Used things must not be used. Especially by children. But see–not a single sly remark, scowl, or pressure to get a new bassinet instead. Nope. I wanted it, we went to get it. It’s puzzling, slightly alarming, but I LIKE it and hope it LASTS.

We’re having a sleepover for my son’s party–it’ll be much less expensive than the hosted party at a party place or even Chuck E. Cheese…Plus, all of his friends have had one, and my son is just dying to have one. I will be here by myself of course with a house full of boys (because my husband will be working all night as usual)…

I thought, well, my husband could buy the birthday cake. That’s a pretty fair contribution. Well, actually it’s a pretty miniscule contribution, but my husband can’t help his work schedule right now, and basically, he’s at work 24/7. We see him 15 minutes every morning as he runs off to work. BUT he likes going to the store–gets him out of the studio. So I thought, CAKE. He can do that.

No, he can’t do that. I specifically wrote “Please get a standard, normal birthday cake.” He knows exactly what that is. Instead, he got this:

This is a great cake. And as you can see from the sticker on it, it’s the moistest cake I’ve ever eaten! However, I can’t write “Happy Birthday” on this cake. I know, that’s getting picky, though I am really, truly so not the picky type–I can barely even explain in words to you how UN-picky I am…and I think I need therapy to learn to be more picky, but thats a story for another day. I suspect we’re about to enter an economic depression in which people will not even get to have a homemade birthday cake–so don’t get me wrong, I understand that my son is lucky to have a cake of any kind.

But while we still have the opportunity to buy a standard birthday cake, I’m going to take advantage of it. We went to the store together, and my son chose this:

So we’re all squared away for the party tonight. And now, onward my friends. I have a ton of work to do. It’s really stressing me out. Having a house full of boys from 6pm this evening until 12pm tomorrow is frighteningly the LEAST stressful part of this entire week. Sure, husband could have saved me that one little chore of buying the cake. But now we have 2 cakes. That’s kinda nice. I’ll eat the moist one by myself to reduce my stress levels. BTW, I have 6 weeks till baby is born and have gained only 13 pounds. (Usually people gain 20-35 pounds or more by delivery.) Must be the MOWING. So, I could probably eat 5 entire cakes and be fine. And I am so stressed out, I may very well do that.

But at least we’ll have a fun party!!!! We will miss Dad, though. (But supposedly, he’ll be home this weekend! That would be GREAT. We shall see.)

I need to start this post by saying that my husband is one of the most WARM and LOVING fathers ever. He’s extremely attentive and dedicated to our boys. When he spends long weeks at work, he insists on spending whole weekends with the boys. I’m always welcome to go along of course, but whether I do or don’t, he insists on taking the boys out from morning till night and spending every waking moment with them. He doesn’t need a break from them. He doesn’t get bored and need to do something else. Being with his boys is fun for him. There is nothing more important to him on earth.

So, his thoughts and feelings on being a father definitely never needed any improvement. However, there are also fathering skills. These have needed quite a bit of improvement and have caused a few issues, I’m tempted even to say serious ones, though now they are resolved.

For a long time, my husband didn’t believe in saying “no” to children. He felt it was better to “trick” the child into doing what you want them to. This alone almost lead to divorce because when I DID say no, I’d get constant dirty looks from both husband and son, and my husband would shake his head and stuff like this. Way too annoying to put up with.

He also wants to overindulge the kids. Toys and candy. He would have no problem giving them two to three toys and two to three huge desserts every single day. I think this might be a hero complex of some kind. I don’t know what it is, except that it can get really irritating for me.

Thankfully, we’ve evolved and changed. Well, I guess I should say my husband has evolved and changed. I started ready to compromise on our child-rearing practices. He wasn’t. He had his own ideas of how things should be (without having consulted a single soul). How did this get resolved? Well, my husband had to work out of town for 6 months and was amazed at the positive changes in our son when he returned. My son was much happier and healthier due to consistency, reasonable boundaries, and having learned the meaning of “no” when necessary. It was obvious that our son was doing very well.

Now my husband even gives our sons time outs when they’re bad! I’ll always be the stricter parent, but that’s ok. We agree enough to be really consistent with our children, and it shows in their confidence, behavior, and habits. Not to toot our own horn or anything…I don’t often talk about my boys on this blog (as I have a whole ‘nother blog for that), but they are GREAT kids, and I am extremely proud of them!

Usually my husband gets home late. But now we’ve entered a whole new dimension of “late.” I used to think I knew what “late” meant. Now I’ve discovered that “late” and “early” are actually the same thing! The only difference is when the activity you reference BEGAN.

For example, when I say “5:30 am,” my bet is that most of you are thinking “oh, that’s EARLY.” But I’m thinking “oh, that’s LATE.” Why? Because that’s what time my husband got home from work two nights last week (after going in at 9:00 am).

I am afraid for his health. Well, not to mention mine. Try being 8 months pregnant with two wonderful little boys who make you run up and down the same huge flight of stairs 100 times each day because they are too little to do things like get snacks, drinks, food, and so on. Not to mention the two huge simultaneous projects I’ve just begun. That was dumb–either ONE of them will require full-time work hours. But taking both is my way of insulating us against the possibility of my husband getting laid off as many other people at his company have.

So, my husband is working on the movie “Watchmen.” You see the name, the actors–to me, it doesn’t look all that special. But DANG. Some people obviously think it’s very special because it is for this production that my husband has come home from 1:00 am to 5:30 am (only 2 nights though) over the past month. Maybe more. I’ve lost count.

Some people may say “Holly, it’s time to put your foot down.” But I take a Doormat Stance on this one. That’s an oxymoron that thoroughly explains my viewpoint. My Doormat Stance is: “It’s not time to put my foot down. It’s time for me to hold onto my medical insurance.” So, let him do what he needs to do. If he has a job, I’m happy. Though VERY tired. In summary, I am being a doormat about it, and I am fine with that right now. If the economy were superb, different story.

PS. It’s very important to me that everyone knows that I am not the LEAST bit jealous of the figure on that gal in the Watchmen photo above. Not even in my late stages of pregnancy. I don’t think sarcastic thoughts like “Look at that angular beanpole. Who’d wear a bathing suit with thigh-high leather boots with five inch heels in a FIRE. HA. Shows how smart she is.” I’d never say or think things like this–I’m way too mature.

I had a VERY odd night! FIRST I went to bed at 10:00pm. My friends who read this blog just fainted. I have a big problem with staying up late till 1am or lately even later. But I’ve been working on it. BOOM. Progress.

But then I woke up at 4:00 am. Man, is this what happens when you go to bed at 10:00 pm? Don’t like it.

Then I noticed my husband was STILL not home from work. NO, he is not having an affair. (I know this because I do regular pocket, wallet, and car checks. Just joking. I would never invade my husband’s privacy. Only on Sundays, and only then while he’s in the shower or still asleep.)

Though I NEVER get mad about his late hours, I’m contemplating the possibility. His very long-term unemployment several years ago tramautized me into not caring how long he works for any reason ever, as long as he has a job to work at. But 4:00 am on Saturday? Perhaps it’s time to confront the trauma. (He’s also been working till 1am and later each week night for at least 3 weeks. New responsibilities at work–wants to prove himself.) Hey I get it, but 4:00 am on Saturday??

So, I spoke loudly, “What are you DOING? It’s 4:00 am! It’s SATURDAY!” And then he said he was working (yes, that’s clear), and he’s coming home soon. I kept thinking, “I think we need to set limits.”

But in order for limit-setting to work, the other party has to respond to the limits. See, that doesn’t happen in our house. Oh, I’ve set limits, and taken measures to enforce them. Bigtime measures. You don’t even want to know about them. My standards weren’t always this low, and I used to have lots n lots of energy to set and enforce limits. But my husband is not a “respond to limits” type. He’s not even a “clearly hear or understand limits” type. He’s pretty much limit-proof.

He said he almost has it under control. So I’m going to copy my husband and put this off for a while. Let’s see where we stand on the work hours next Saturday. If 4:00 am, I’m going to start talking strategies. Big ones. Like take the kids and move to Granny’s house. On the East Coast. And uh…uh…too tired to think about it. We’re going to go get ICE CREAM now. I’ll update you soon.

What a delightful article I just saw on Yahoo. It’s called “15 Simple Ways to Keep Your Partner Happy.” It’s written by a man. I thought, won’t it make me chuckle to take a look and just verify for certain that my husband is doing none of them?

Low and behold, not only is he doing none of them, but he’s such a far cry from this list, it actually made me laugh aloud. VERY loud. As in, I think I woke one of the children. (Please no…) So, I’m going to copy the list and add commentary if that’s okay with everyone.

1. Rub her feet instead of asking her if she wants you to rub her feet. Make it look like you want to do it. Right. He rubs my back rarely. Even then, there is a reason, and we all know exactly what that is. That there must be a reason makes the backrub irritating.

2. Make her dinner one night. Don’t ask her if she wants you to make dinner. Make her dinner before she gets home. Mmm, I prefer to eat–I’ll cook.

3. Light a candle so that she arrives home to a nice environment instead of coming home to the glaring lights of the television and other things. This is reminding me of the time he caught the house on fire. I need to move on to #4 very quickly before I get angry.

4. Send her a text in the middle of the day telling her “I miss your smile from this morning” or “Last night was amazing!” or “The conversation we had last night was great.” The closest thing to a romantic text message my husband sends me is an instant message that says dumb stuff like “QUICK, tell me how to spell [insert very easy word]!!!” Or strange Youtube videos that I get quizzed on and in trouble for not watching.

5. Send an eCard in the middle of the day… something cute to remind her how much you really care about her. HA HA! I don’t even get cards for my birthday.

6. If she’s going on a business trip, offer to drive her to the airport or pick her up to make her life that much easier. Hm, well, my husband drives me places and picks me up a lot because I hate driving. So maybe I’m spoiled. HAHAHAHHAHA. (Picking up part= true, spoiled part= funny joke.)

7. Let her have control of the remote control. Don’t monopolize it for a change. Just give it to her and let her actually sit there and enjoying watching one of her shows. Then you can share one of her interests by watching it with her. Share an interest? Watch TV together? Hu?

8. Offer to iron one of her shirts or take her clothes to the dry cleaner. My husband anywhere near an iron, especially an iron near MY clothing, is my worst nightmare. Just thinking about it is making me tense and paranoid.

9. Clean up the bathroom without being asked. Don’t just sit there and ignore the mess around the toilet. If you know it drives her crazy to see water splashed all around the sink, dry that area after you use it. Uh, I’d settle for “Try to pee directly into the toilet.”

10. If you work out together, enjoy it with her instead of rushing through your own workout and then not letting her workout at the same time. I would never choose to work out with my husband, but if forced for any reason, I’d be the one rushing through my workout. He’d completely ignore me, and I’d completely ignore him as well.

11. Take a shower together, then wash her hair, scrub her back, and give her a spa treatment. Do this and enjoy it! If my husband ever tried to do this, I am certain he would injure me.

12. The next time she gives you a massage, give her a massage the next day. Offer it! Don’t just say you’ll give her a massage…do it! See #1.

13. Surprise her by making plans. Tell her, “We’re going out tonight honey.” You can even just go out for a drink or dinner somewhere. It’s taking the initiative that’s important. Please. I’m about to write an entire post about his “plans.” Here were his actual “plans” for last Sunday: Sleep till 3pm. Then try to take family to the beach at 5pm. The beach is a 45 minute drive. I am neither joking nor exaggerating. This was actually the “plan.”

14. Decide on and set aside one night a week as date night. Have a date like when you first started dating. Hm. This could be fun. It will never happen, but if it did, I’m pretty sure it would be fun.

15. Call her in the middle of the day and just say hello. Don’t wait for her to call you. Oh, he calls me like two or three times each day. Usually to ask if I watched the Youtube videos (see #4), but sometimes with strange questions like “What’s my social security number?” (as in his social security number) or “What’s our address?” I know what you’re thinking–it’s his way of saying “I love you.” he he.

PS. Was that as much fun for you as it was for me? I sure hope so.

My husband NEVER emails, calls, or writes to his mother. She lives thousands of miles away. That must be hard. Had she been nice to me, I would love communicating with her. But as you can see from stories 1, 2, and 3, that wasn’t the case.

I find it very odd that she insists on emailing me to ask how her son is doing. I have told her so many times that I am not their go-between. So, when she sends me an Instant Message asking how he’s doing, I ALWAYS answer the same way, “Have you asked him? Just email him” to which she always responds, “No, I am afraid of taking his time.” (Note: She treats her son like precious gold, everyone else on earth like crap.) Oh, but of course, I guess I have PLENTY of time on my hands, despite huge writing projects with strict deadlines, two young boys, and husband’s job which has been 6 days a week from 9 am till 2 or 3 am for the past month or two. Sure.

I totally ignore the emails asking about her son. Then one day, I got this email: “Holly, you do realize, of course, that I need to have contact with my family.” Hm. So, I said something to the effect that her son is family (though I am NOT), and so she should let him know all about this. Her response: “Thank you.” He he. She thinks she pulls at the heart strings. Actually she pulls at the crack-me-up strings.

I do send her updates on the grandchildren from time to time. Occasionally she sends sends sarcastic messages to show me that my updates aren’t sufficient: “Thank you so much, Holly, for that story you told me a month ago about my grandsons. That one story was so interesting. After all, I NEED to know what’s going on in my boys’ lives.” Yeah. Keep talking.

Yesterday at 1:00 am, she writes me asking how her son’s new project is going. As usual I asked, “Did ya email him?” She said, “No. I know he’s busy. I’m so afraid to take his time.” Mhm. I answered that I think he’s fine but I haven’t seen him for about a months as he has been working from about 9am till 2am, so she might get more info if she contacts him. You know what she answered? “You’re kind.” Hm.

No, she’s kind. Don’t you think? Well, that’s all fine because she makes me feel lucky. I am SO lucky that this lady lives thousands of miles from here. I’m also lucky that my husband is working his heart out at work because he’s nervous that people have been let go. He takes such good care of us. Also his outfit matched today and he looked REALLY handsome. See, when it’s 2:30 am, I start getting a little lovey dovey and really thankful for stuff. Also, my boys are the most irresistable kids ever. Why did I get all this good stuff? Have I begun to ramble?

Uh, it’s 2:30 am. I was supposed to be in bed by 11 pm. Why no self-discipline???? Good night.

It’s 1:30am on Friday night. I waited all day for my husband to tell me whether he has to work tomorrow. And Monday. (I can’t make weekend plans without this info.) He has to do stuff for a trailer being released in a week or two, so his schedule is crazy again, but not for long.

My husband IM’d me an hour ago that he’s coming home. So I asked, “Are you working tomorrow???”

His response: “Hm. They were supposed to tell me. But they didn’t. Hey, do you know if I’m supposed to work on Monday?”

I don’t think I need to explain the many things wrong with that response. I should mention that he thinks I might know his Monday schedule because he forwarded me some message a week ago about it. But uh, I don’t read boring stuff like that, so while I noticed Monday was mentioned, I have no idea what the details were. Oh well, he’ll catch on eventually and stop relying on me for his schedule info.

So, in a nutshell, it’s already Saturday, yet I have no idea what we’re doing Saturday. Or Monday. But Sunday, I can plan for, as I know my husband will be home. I plan that my husband will sleep till 3pm then say he’s too tired to do anything. But I’m going to be rebellious. We’re doing something fun on Sunday. And so help me, if I have to use pepperspray to get that man out of bed early, so be it.

But where will we go? I’m thinking Point Dume in Malibu. I heard you can see live starfish there! Um, the fact that Brad Pitt lives kind of close to there and I’m dying to see his house has nothing to do with this idea. Does anyone know a good site with maps of movie star homes? I don’t need it for our fun family trip on Sunday. I’m just asking out of curiosity. Also does anyone know where Owen Wilson’s house in Santa Monica is? NOT because it’s on the way to Malibu, and I want to see it. PLEASE. That would be so immature. No, um. See, I just want to AVOID going near the homes of any movie stars along the way. You know, to respect their privacy. And stuff like that. Thanks.