Monthly Archives: July 2010

Bigger Picture Moment Feature: My Husband is a Guy

As a way of strengthening community and promoting building relationships, we’re highlighting one Bigger Picture Moment from every weekly link up. Each post is randomly chosen by random.org. Enjoy this week’s feature if you haven’t already read it.
My Husband Is a Guy by Erin of Dropped Stitches

My husband is coming home tonight from his grandmother’s in Missouri. I thought I’d enjoy not having him around for a while, just having some me time, but I’ve missed him. I’m happy he’s on his way back. He may be driving me batty by tomorrow, but right now, I want my man.

Before I got married, I had these visions of what falling in love and marriage would be like – you know, stuff like that amazing scene after Nickolas Cage falls in “City of Angels” and even “The Big Chill” formed my opinions. It would start with overwhelming oceans of love (which it did) and then progress to something comfortable (again, ditto) where he would think of me and buy me flowers (…) and take me on dates (…) and wear fashionable clothing and we would look natty and sophisticated as we drank in wine bars eating tapas.

So here’s the thing. My husband is a guy. He likes sweats and jeans and tee shirts and ball caps. He wears a sleeveless undershirt every day. He reads and re-reads motorcycle magazines till he can quote them back word for word. Sometimes he gets, well, gamey (this, thankfully, never lasts long, or I would drag him to the shower and not for the un-family blog types of things he would be thinking). His mom is the one that buys me flowers. She knows I like them. He doesn’t know what a tapa is, and if confronted with one, would most likely think that such a small piece of food is a waste of a clean plate. He doesn’t like fancy restaurants. Big Boy is more his speed. His side of the bed is rather a mess and does not fit in with my decorating scheme. His fingernails often have oil under them and sometimes crude comments sort of ooze out of his mouth.

I’m convinced that Hollywood is part of the reason that some marraiges fail. Two people in love get married, the honeymoon fades, and suddenly the husband isn’t like Sam from “Ghost” anymore. There are no Everly Brother’s pottery wheel love moments where you get miraculously clean on the way to your pristine white couch for fabulous love making and moonbeams. Because we marry men. Not Hollywood movies. Sometimes you might get, like, a moment that is, what, .5% as fantastic as the “Ghost” moment and you feel like the whole earth shook because a moment that fantastic hasn’t happened in a month. Cuz that’s what the world is really like.

My daughter is stuck on the Hollywood love model. She doesn’t quite get that her boyfriend, unless he develops insane Hollywood style love skills (we’re talking wooing skills here, nothing more!) is never going to be as sensitive as Eric Bana in “The Time Traveler’s Wife” (sigh). I keep telling her, “you are dating a guy, a really good guy, but a guy, and he’s a teenaged guy at that! Give him a break! He hasn’t drank the Hollywood love Kool-Aid, and chances are, he never will.” She’s understandably disappointed, but I think I’m getting through.

I married a guy. Not a Hollywood love interest. A normal man. And I’ve never once tried to change that – well, except for the gameyness – that I cannot abide by. And I do nag him about his messiness, but that has tapered off, too.

I love my guy. I will never eat a tapa with him, but patty melts taste better when he’s around.

Bigger Picture Moment

Bigger Picture Moment Feature: Mattress Antics

As a way of strengthening community and promoting building relationships, we’re highlighting one Bigger Picture Moment from every weekly link up. Each post is randomly chosen by random.org. Enjoy this week’s feature if you haven’t already read it.

From Jumping Tandem

When I went to Virginia last month, H used that time to take care of a few projects around the house. He installed two new “fixtures” in two of our bathrooms and got to work painting the steps that had previously worn an ugly and matted down carpet of sorts. Access to our bedroom was blocked while he worked on these projects, which meant that H slept in the guest room, and that led to the purchase of a new mattress. “Lumpy,” is what he called the old one. And with my parents coming to town next week…well…as H put it, “Nothing is too good for your parents.”

Except that, for us, delivery charges were definitely out of the question. We’re frugal (cheap?) like that.

So yesterday, when H picked me up from work, there was that new mattress, strapped to the top of our teeny tiny Toyota, along with three teen-aged boys scrunched shoulder to shoulder together in the back seat. The back of that poor little Toyota just barely cleared the ground. If you’re picturing the miniscule little circus car full of clowns, you’re on the right track.

I squeezed myself into the front seat, hoping that no one saw me. Seriously. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, folks! But of course, on this particular day, everyone and their mother decided to leave the office just as I closed the passenger door and we rode off into the sunset (it was lunch time, so there wasn’t actually a sunset, but you get the idea, right?).

Have I told you about the wind here in Nebraska? Have I shared with you that on the nicest days our little Toyota gets tossed around on the four-lane highway that leads me to work each day? Have I told you that I grip the steering wheel just about every day that I head down that road for fear that one well-placed gust of wind will sweep me into the cornfields? Just try to imagine what that wind was doing to the brand new mattress that was strapped to the top of our car. I was terrified. And I hung on to that mattress for dear life.

I leaned my torso out of the window and gripped on to the side of that mattress as it flipped and flopped and strained against its orange tie-down straps. My hair whipped around on the top of my head and…yes…I screamed all the way down that highway. H tried to reassure me that the mattress wasn’t budging (and in retrospect I can tell you he was correct). He cranked up Led Zeppelin on the stereo and the three teens in the back seat shouted, “Let’s roll!” (OK. Surely you’re wondering about the people in the back seat. Let me stop here to tell you that these three guys are from Burma and each day H takes them to and from summer school where they are learning to speak English. “Let’s roll!” is – apparently – one of the newest phrases that they’ve learned.)

Anyway…we were quite a sight. A spectacle, really. My hand still aches from holding on to that mattress. H said to me, “Wow, honey! I’m so glad you were here. I’m sure that we would have lost that mattress if you hadn’t held on like that!” He was joking, of course.

We dropped the guys off at their homes and the one who hardly ever says anything at all for fear he’ll get it all wrong said, “Thank you. Thank you! I will see you on Sunday.” He looked at me and then at the mattress and – grinning from ear to ear – he gave us both a thumbs up.

And that, my friends, made it all worthwhile.

Next week, Melissa will be hosting Bigger Picture Moments. Keep an open mind and heart throughout the week and come back to participate again or for the first time! All are welcome!