Husband Clothes

Hm. I’m feeling very puzzled and confused. But kind of on a love-my-husband high at the same time. I have very vague memories of my husband’s awesome cooking skills from about 10 years ago during our dating phase. My husband is such a great cook–or should I say “was.” Is cooking like riding a bycicle, and you don’t forget how to do it even after 10 years of not even turning on a stove eye?

Oh, let me not exaggerate. My husband has cooked several times over the last 10 years. But only for himself and on a very rare Saturday for the boys–and this involves nothing more extravagant than a scrambled egg. In fact, I can just say it this way: Over the last 10 years my husband has cooked, but only scrambled eggs, and that very rarely, and NEVER for me.

So what’s Mr. Romantic doing at 11pm as I’m working at my computer bringing me a VERY DELICIOUS OMELET with sliced bread and sliced tomatoes on the side??? He had to walk upstairs to do this. [Right here, new readers please note: Despite how this all sounds, my husband is a very kind man, and I’m a kind lady. We’re both just kind of in the stone ages when it comes to sharing housework.]

And then I, in a very extremely nice voice, was kind of like “Wow. Thanks a lot! Hey, um, are you looking to have um [how can I phrase this on blog]…to do reproductive activities?” Seriously, he looked so surprised. I am sure he only cooked to be kind. But why? Why do husbands suddenly realize they need to be attentive? Does he have a girlfriend telling him he needs to be attentive?

No, definitely not–I did the monthly cell phone-slash-wallet check and *67 (if you do that, the person getting the call can’t see your number on their phone), call all unfamiliar numbers on husband’s cell phone. I found only two unfamiliar numbers, and both people who answered were males–so sorry I hung up on them!!! He he he–can’t really explain how I am checking to be sure they’re not my husband’s girlfriend, especially since they’re obviously his guy friends–boy that’d make BOTH of us look weird, how embarrassing! [One more note for new readers: I’m SO not the jealous type, but when your husband works from 9am till 3-5am for 4-5 weeks, you start feeling that you need to check wallets and cell phones just in case–but see, I only checked once in a month. I could be SO much more diligent. But too busy.]

But back on track: I bet my husband is afraid I’m going to die when I give birth in a month–no, that sounds more like me. No, I say it’s just his great love of babies and that I’m about to have a third one for him. That’s a wonderful trait for a husband to have, but how great to get all this attention lately too! I’m basically in heaven right now, both from good food and good husband.

PS. YES, I DO REALIZE that I am probably too easily pleased. I mean, the first omelet in 10 years could have been husband cooking once or twice a week for 10 years…But how does one force oneself to be NOT happy with something when she’s just thrilled? I could try to repeat over and over, for example, “I will not be happy with first omelet in 10 years. Need husband to cook at least twice a week.” But it won’t work. I’ll still feel really happy about this omelet.

Man, my husband was getting on my nerves SO much last week, I could barely even blog. Every post started and ended with “I want a divorce,” then I had to delete them. Because this blog is to help me handle things with humor, not with anger. But as you know, in marriage, sometimes there’s anger. And other times there’s humor:)

ANYWAY, in the midst of all of my anger, I kept thinking “Man, I really want a divorce. Like tomorrow.” Can’t list all the reasons, because then I’ll get mad again. But mainly they were because my husband is not really taking care of stuff, which is forcing me to take care of way, way too much stuff. I am working from 9am to 9pm myself right now, having a baby in 6 weeks, have a 7 year old at home from school, taking him and his brother to lessons for stuff, plus husband still working from 9am to 2am each day…I really need my husband to pull his own weight. And he can’t seem to….plus he was getting an attitude when I get testy due to all of this. Sometimes he’s just so out of touch…

So I was really down and feeling quite angry. Then suddenly I made a horrible mistake. AND THIS WAS A STROKE OF LUCK THAT HAPPENED RIGHT IN TIME. We got my husband’s car registration stickers in the mail, but I forgot to give them to him.

So, he got a parking ticket for not having the registration. But not just any ticket. A ticket that requires him to go to DMV or a police station, get a signature from an official, and only THEN can he send the fine. Oh my. And this is all because there aren’t stickers on his license plate (the stickers I had on my desk for um…days? or maybe weeks???).

I apologized to him. His response: no response. As in, he acted totally normal and calm and nice. How could a person act calm and nice after getting that kind of ticket? I don’t know–perhaps we should all ask my husband.

Also, we had a little chat. Before the parking ticket, about his attitude at my testiness over him not pulling his own weight. I told him he needs to get back in touch with reality and cut me some slack. There’s NO WAY I have the energy to try to keep my tone nice and dainty as I remind him of crap for the millionth time right now. In addition, I explained, I need HELP, so he needs to start acting like I’m almost 9 months pregnant and STOP acting like I’m Hulk Hogan or something.

Low and behold, I think he understood. We went to the park with the boys and my husband OPENED MY CAR DOOR FOR ME. I almost fainted. And then felt really super relieved. It’s sooooo good when things seem bad, but suddenly your spouse listens and understands and responds. Wow. I am having such a nice day because of that.

I was so thrilled to read Mathew Baldwin’s recent post on Defective Yeti (hilarious and interesting blog, might I add–do check out his stories about his wife, whom he calls the Queen, especially the story called “Beaurocracy“).

But back to my original point. This writer, tech guy, dad, and husband seems QUITE WITH IT. So when I saw his recent post on NOT owning a cell phone, I was surprised, but then relieved.

I also have no cell phone. My friends reading are going “Don’t lie. You HAVE one, you just don’t use it.” Well friends, I haven’t bothered to tell anyone, since I literally NEVER use my cell phone and actually kind of hate my cell phone for that very reason.

But I have lost my cell phone. Don’t worry, I deactivated it temporarily. Beyond that, I can’t make myself care enough to decide how to proceed. I’m having a little quandry–get a new cell phone? I don’t want a new one. I hate it because people call me on it and leave important messages–but it’s never charged. When it is charged, I can’t find it. I stopped giving the number out long ago, yet my doctor, dentist, places like these, they just can’t stop using that number. I think my contract is up too. I was thinking switch to a pre-pay type thing, that way I’ll have the phone for emergencies…but I don’t think they’ll let me do that with my current number.

So, as my quandry continues, I’m paying the $30 or $40 per month just to keep the number. Till I decide. Yes, that’s wasteful. My father would NOT be happy about this. But that’s okay, because I’m in my thirties, so I don’t really have to consult with him on this.

Anyway, I love the reactions Matthew posts–particularly those for years 2005 (Irritation) and 2005 (Derision). I’ve gotten these responses too, but not for not having a cell phone, just for never using it. It was kind of nice to see that at least one other fellow human also has yet to catch up to this particular mainstay of modern technology.

PS. Did I mention that my husband DOES have a cell phone, and that he paid way more than one of his car payments to purchase it? But see, unlike me, he needs a cell phone because he can’t remember his work or home phone numbers. That’s a whole ‘nother post though.

I think I’ve mentioned before that my husband refuses to wear summer clothing. Not in the 90 degree heat in Los Angeles in June. Not in the 90 degree heat and 90% humidity in Northern Virginia in July.

Nope. In the middle of June in the blistering Los Angeles heat (well, not now, but usually), everyone else is walking around in T-shirts and tank tops. Then you see my husband in sweatshirts and jeans. Sometimes with a T-shirt and a sweatshirt under that.

Why? I do not know. He is a nice-looking guy. He has nothing to hide under his winter clothing. It is not a religious thing. It is not a feeling cold despite the heat thing. I have no idea why he does this.

I have tried to ask him why, but I never really get an answer. I usually just end up not really thinking much about it. But then one of my friends will ask, “Isn’t your husband HOT in that sweatshirt today??? It’s 95 degrees outside!” Then I become afraid that he might have a heatstroke or something and try to ask why he doesn’t want to wear a T-shirt, and the conversation goes nowhere, and I forget again.

But something happened this summer. He has worn short-sleeved shirts (without the weird sweatshirt under it look that he LOVES) TWICE this summer. I don’t know what to think. It’s like being married to a new man. What will he do next?

My husband told a funny joke this morning. To regular readers of this site, you know this is a rare occasion. To new readers, I do realize that this sounds kind of mean, but trust me, it’s not mean. What’s mean are my husband’s jokes, which are not funny, and which are told at the worst possible moments in the most embarrassing situations.

Oh, but about the funny joke…We were getting ready in the morning. He was looking for socks to wear. Unfortunately, suddenly this year, I have become unable to put up clean laundry. I do the laundry, but then it sits in the floor in a pile. I keep meaning to fold it each day. But I don’t. This has gone on for months. I have no explanation or excuse. It’s my goal to change this, but I keep thinking about, rather than acting on, the goal.

Fortunately, messes don’t bother my husband in the least, so he barely even notices the pile and just continues to fish clothes out of it.

So, he’s looking through this horrible pile of clean clothing to find clean socks. And I felt bad. I said, “Sweety, I’m sorry you have to look through this pile. I keep meaning to put up the clothes, but I keep not doing it…”

He said, “Hm. That’s terrible. I think I’m going to start a blog about this” and laughed. he he he. This was a reference to my blog about his bad habits. Get it? I have to say, not only do I think this joke was funny, but I find it hilarious that he pays so little mind to this blog though it pokes fun at him.

This is one of those things I love about this man. He never worries about petty things. He knows a joke is a joke. He has clean socks, he doesn’t care if they come from a pile or a drawer. He really worries about the “right” things in life–I guess this is why he’s so mellow and steady. I’ve learned a lot from his example, but there’s much more to learn.

Years ago, I was a chain smoker with no hope of ever quitting. I was otherwise normal and in good health–I ate right, exercised, all that good stuff. Looked darn cute–sorry, I think the 10 years ago factor gives me bragging rights at this time, does it not? But I had a habit of smoking that I could NOT kick.

Then I met my husband. At first, he acted all okay with my smoking. See, this guy’s a sneaky one. From day one he knew he was going to force me to stop smoking. I only learned about this three years later.

The first wise move was not hinting about the issue until AFTER marriage–you know, when I was already totally trapped. At that time, the lectures started. By the way, my husband NEVER raises his voice. But he has this almost evil way of being brutally persistent and thoroughly unbothered by negative responses to his persistence.

SO, I’d begin to smoke, and he’d start rolling his eyes, fanning the air and groaning aloud. I’d run out to the balcony and start chain smoking due to the stress his antics caused me. He’d follow me out to the balcony (see his traps, and how I fell into them? marriage, balcony, and so on), and continue the lectures. Lectures about lung cancer, lectures about heart disease, lectures about smelling like smoke…

I would yell at him to stop, but I was on a balcony so, not comfortable to do so too loudly or too long. Finally, I’d go back in. Usually by this point, I had smoked at least 5 cigarettes due to stress his antics caused me. But the magical effect was that it was TOTALLY UNSATISFYING due to the lectures. (See, smokers smoke to get a break from reality. That effect is squashed when someone is annoying you and won’t go away.)

That wasn’t all. He also did very controlling things, such as steal my cigarettes out of my purse. So I’d go for a smoke break at work. No cigarettes. Pretty much, someone’s going to die when stuff like this starts happening. But he’s stronger than me, plus he didn’t care about my threats. As I said, his persistence approaches evilness. Later, he caught on when I’d check that my cigarettes were in the purse BEFORE leaving for work.

He started taking the cigarettes out of the box and replacing them with random objects. My very, very favorite was a hotdog. That’s right. I opened my Marlboro Lights all ready for my grand smoke break, the great calm-me-downer, and there are no cigarettes in the box, but there is a hot dog in the box. Folded in half, so as to fit in the box. Yes, that’s very scary. I almost called the police.

But police or no police, these little tricks had a very important effect: cigarettes became an unreliable source of pleasure. I could no longer count on them to be there for me. I was aware this was my husband’s fault, and there were many ways that I outsmarted him and his little tricks. But all in all, he made smoking unpleasurable and unreliable.

That is the true story of why I was able to stop smoking.

I’m looking so forward to this weekend! It will be great to have so much family time, but I am sure my husband and I will get on each other’s nerves. To prepare, I read about men’s brains.

This information is taken from the book What Could He Be Thinking? by Michael Gurian. The book is based on 20 years of neurobiological research. The book is all about different chemicals and activity levels in parts of the male and female brains.

Why Husbands Tense Up When Wives Just Want to Talk
Women have 15% more blood flow and neural pathways to verbal-emotive brain centers than men. For this reason, having a conversation, especially one that inspires emotion, can increase oxytocin levels. Oxytocin makes the female brain feel relaxed and connected. However, it makes the male brain “wake up.”

When the male brain is in a restive state, most of its activity is centered in the brain stem. The brain stem does not connect well to the frontal lobes at the top of the brain–where the verbal-emotive processing goes on.

So, in a nutshell, after work, both males and females aim to relax. Talking helps women relax. But for men, conversation stimulates chemicals and parts of the brain to work, rather than to relax. How evil of nature.

Why Men Ignore Their Wives When They Get Home From Work
When men get home from work, they want to rest, just like women do. What does help the male brain enter a restive state? Fixing electronics and channel surfing. I’m serious.

Why Men Watch TV at Defeaning Volumes + Can’t See Stuff In the Fridge
Women’s brains take in more sensory data than men’s brains. So women see, hear, smell, and feel more strongly than men. So, this is why men need to watch the TV at FULL BLAST and why they can’t see stuff in the refrigerator when they’re staring right at it. Also why the many messes they make don’t bother them at all–their brains don’t take these visual details in as women’s brains do.

So, over this nice long weekend, I guess if I want my husband to relax, I need to try not to talk to him, encourage him to channel surf as he ignores me, and try to understand that he simply can’t see all of the messes he creates.

PS. On a serious note, does anyone know of an organization that benefits families of fallen soldiers? If so, please email me! Also, here is a touching site www.anysoldier.com–it tells how you can send a letter to service men and women who don’t often get mail but need it.

Sara’s boyfriend went to a dinner party that was “black tie optional.” Sara couldn’t go with him. This little lucky twist saved her mucho public embarrassment. Guys: PAUSE FOR QUICK QUIZ!

1) “Black tie optional” means _____:

A. The same as “tie optional”–wear a tie, or don’t.
B. Wear a tie, but it doesn’t have to be black.
C. Basically “tuxedo optional”–wear a tuxedo or something formal.

2) When I have no idea what stuff means, I can avoid embarrassing myself by _____:

A. Guessing what it means and making a grand entrance or statement.
B. Ask my best friend what it means. He doesn’t socialize much, but he’s smart.
C. Do a Google search–this is reliable and only takes 5 seconds.

This guy picked options A and A. (Not the correct answers.) Later when Sara asked how the dinner party went, her boyfriend kind of grimaced and said that everyone else was so dressed up. He’d felt very awkward.

Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Well, you DID wear a suit, right?” He’s staring back at her all confused like. No, he reminded her, it was black tie optional, so he chose the option NOT to wear a tie. Or a jacket. He chose the other, more casual “option.”

Stop right here. See, he’s talking about imaginary options. He never checked out the meaning of black tie optional. When we make up or just try to figure out what things mean, rather than looking them up or asking about them, situations can get very sketchy–this includes dating, using instructions to build things, directions, finances, cooking, and of course, fashion. So basically, this guy failed to inquire, and he showed up to a tuxedo formal wear event wearing something like jeans and a button up pajama shirt.

Hey, not everyone knows what phrases like “black tie optional” mean. Many who do still hate getting dressed up. BUT the point is NOT “be classy”–goodness no, by all means, please don’t try that. The point is, don’t always try to guess. Just ASK sometimes. What’s the big darn deal???

My husband and the ALARM CLOCK are getting ON MY NERVES. He thinks it’s my responsibility to make sure he wakes up at 7am. I used to try, but it’s impossible to wake this man up. He gets up no earlier than 8am. The alarm clock goes off every 10 minutes for an entire hour. That’s the way it’s been for years.

I used to care if he got up on time. But now I don’t. For a while, he seemed to get this. All was good. He was waking up late, of course, but not talking to me about it. Perfect.

Recently, however, he reverted back to the old “I was late to work today” with buggy eyes looking at me like I’m supposed to respond with … an explanation. But I didn’t respond because I don’t care. The next day, he moved it to the next level and acted all panicky when he got up late: “OH NO, it’s 8am? I can’t even take a SHOWER. And now I’m going to be LATE for WORK” (while staring with buggy eyes). Keep in mind, the alarm clock was not turned off. It went off very loudly every 10 minutes from 7am to 8am. Just to be sure I asked, “Why are you telling me this?” He said, “So you’ll help me GET UP next time.” Then for the millionth time I explained that I have tried and it’s hopeless, and he needs to just go to bed earlier.

So, yesterday when the clock went off for the 3rd time, I mumbled “Get up” in my sleep or something. Low and behold HE GOT UP at 7:30am. Wow. Total shocker. He took a shower, got dressed, all ready to go on time.

I thought, “FINALLY he’s on time. Maybe he’ll leave me alone now.” But NO. Instead of feeling proud of himself, he looks at me with the buggy eyes AGAIN and says, “See, when I get up early enough, I get out of the door on time.” He’s so lucky he’s so much stronger than I am. I think I said something that included very mean curse words. But it’s a fuzzy memory (thank goodness) because I was juuust tired enough to go back to sleep.

PS. Oh my GOSH. I was so excited to see the poster’s comment on bed-shaking alarm clocks (in comments below this post). I thought this was a cruel joke to get me all excited, then sad, but they are REAL. Here they are, should you need one!!!!

I‘d like to share a little about my husband’s behavior while he’s sick. First, he believes you MUST be extremely warm to heal from a cold. Therefore he wears a beanie at all times while sick. That’s correct. This includes during summer, in public, and while he sleeps. He pulls it way down over his eyes. He stays in bed with the covers pulled up to his nose. Oh, he also leaves wads of toilet paper in his nose. Please see the visual I created using a Spiderman doll that looks exactly like husband while sick–except there are no nostrils into which I can stuff toilet paper wads–try to imagine that part:

Does this look frightening to you? My standards are so low at this point that it almost looks normal to me now. I even go out in public with him looking like this in the summer. Sure, it’s embarrassing when people stare, but at those moments, I convincingly pretend to be alone. No one knows. And besides, they walk away so quickly when they see him coming.

Oh, there’s also the way he ACTS when he has a cold. He can’t breath. His head hurts so badly he can’t move–even in dire emergencies, like when something’s burning on the stove downstairs, and one of the kids starts screaming as if injured upstairs. See how one person (me) can’t handle both incidents effectively, but two people could? Too bad. My husband can’t move. He has a COLD (also known as “possible kidney infection”).

I think the most annoying is that when I am sick, of course, he thinks I’m faking it and totally ignores me. I hope I never die while I have a cold, because if I do, I will remain that way unchecked on for quite some time. I find that extremely irritating.

I have heard that many guys have trouble handling colds. It would be very encouraging to hear that they also wear beanies, leave toilet paper up their noses, and ignore their wives’ colds completely. This would mean that my husband is perfectly normal after all.