Archive for Cohabitating
Kitchen Wars
Posted by: | CommentsThe Wall Street Journal isn’t just for financial news. They like to address all kinds of lifestyle and home issues, too, such as When the Kitchen Knives Come Out.
This article cracked me up. It shows how couples do battle around food preparation.
It reminds me that, when single, you often lose sight of your preferences. After all, there are few people to challenge you. But, getting married? Well, all of a sudden someone says Dukes’ mayonnaise is better than Hellmans’ and all hell breaks loose.
When you get married later in life there are other issues, as well. You are in the unfortunate position to merge two fully-formed kitchens. Which dish set is the best? Who’s coffee maker do we keep? And, who has the best whisk? (For the record, it’s mine.) Do we really need 12 pewter authentic beer steins?
There are the territory issues that arise in the kitchen. All that constant bumping butts over the sink as one is trying to open the cutlery drawer.
Of course, there is protecting the food altogether.
And, then, there are the clean-up issues.
Husband and I have an ongoing battle of who loads the dishwasher best. I say the cutlery should go face down. The dirty ends will be hit with soapy water first. Husband insists all utensils should stand right side up. They get cleaner that way, he says. But I ask, how do you get them OUT without putting your hands on the “eating” ends? End of cleanliness.
One of the first kitchen wars we had was over the sponge. Apparently I kept leaving the sponge face down in the sink versus standing on its end so it would drain near the faucet. This was tantamount to sin.
Of course, Husband leaves the water running and running and running while he’s busy wiping counters (occasionally). I say it’s environmentally incorrect. Then I get a lecture about water conservation and drought and how water running down the drain isn’t causing us to have less water. I stand my ground. He continues to let the water run.
I also learned that the stove has special meaning to Husband. If there was one drop of juice that dared to touch the bottom of the oven, he’d put it on self clean. This makes our townhouse smell like a chemical factory. Husband doesn’t mind. Even when I cough so much I have to leave the house. Now, Husband is not allowed to ever to touch the self-clean function on the stove. (For the record, our stove looks brand new at all times because Husband is also obsessed with the stovetop being crystal clean – inside and out. We’re talking cleaning and then shining with Windex afterward. Yes, he’s in charge of that. I have better things to do.)
But, nothing showcases our different kitchen styles like our ongoing battle over how many implements are the “right amount” to use when cooking or baking. I use whatever is within easy reach – even if it means pulling out the fourth spoon to stir that pot. Husband believes one should use the least amount of dishes at all time. Less to clean, he says. This is hysterical to me because I do 90 percent of the cleaning anyway. Hmmm. He refuses to clean up after me. Maybe he’s got a little racket going on there.
Of Snails and Puppy Dog Tails*
Posted by: | CommentsIt’s true that you will continue to learn about your spouse long after you’re married – sometimes for years after the wedding vows are spoken. And, how you find out these new things about your partner can be quite an adventure.
For instance, I believe how they handle international travel speaks volumes to how they handle life. I understand building a house (or other home renovation) has erected and dismantled many marriages. (And, God willing, I’ll find out one day.)
Today, I add yet another activity to the list of How to Find Out All Kinds Of Things –and Quickly — About Your Spouse That You Didn’t Know: puppy-sitting.
I have made no secret of my pet lust. Some women’s biological clocks cry out for a baby. Mine? It whispers, puppy. In fact, it’s part of Husband’s and my marriage contract. No more new kids. So, we get to foster animals instead.
However, Husband remains firmon the timing. No animals until our house is built. (And, thanks to the lax CEOs of several financial institutions across the U.S. — who, by the way probably own three houses, each, themselves — that’s not happening anytime soon for us.)
Husband and I have very different ideas about pets, too. Husband believes all animals should:
- Stay outside, for the most part,
- Never get on the furniture,
- Be avoided altogether if they shed,
- Be independent, entertaining themselves for hours on end, and
- Never, ever get in bed with you.
I, on the other hand, believe why have an animal if you aren’t going to live with it? I mean really live with it.
Fortunately for us, we have friend with pets. And, for the last two weeks, we had been puppy sitting a 20 week-old, Cavalier King Charles spaniel named Chloe. (Or Princess Chloe, if you ask her.) Husband had hoped this would cure me of my desire for a dog. Puppies require all manners of care and attention. He thought it would put me over the edge. But, I ask you, could such a face like this put anyone over the edge?
Husband made sure I knew, when she first arrived, that puppy duty was all mine. But, years ago my friend Y told me don’t listen to what men say, rather watch what they do. That’s where you’ll find the truth. If our puppy-sitting is any indicator of that truism, I don’t know what is.
First, within the first 48 hours of our Chloe-sitting stint, she had claimed her favorite spot: Husband’s lap. Then, one day I called from work to ask about Chloe (Husband stayed home that day). He said, she’s fine. She’s sitting right here.
Where?
On my lap.
Though we had a few long nights of taking Princess Chloe out to “widdle” – even sometimes in the middle of a snow storm – she was tons of fun. She would regal us with her tricks (zooming around and around our couch with toys in her mouth, for one) and giving lots of puppy kisses.
Husband soon was playing with Chloe every night, taking her for long walks, and even giving her a bath after one particularly long and wet romp through our 30 inches of recent snowfall. (Wet snow + puppy fur = a rather distinct smell.) By the end of our two weeks he was even getting up in the middle of the night to take her out, though he swore that was going to be my job.
In essence, very quickly, Husband was putty in the paws of said puppy.
(The man with his remote and Chloe. What more could someone ask for?)
On the last morning before we were to hand her over to her rightful minions owners, without provocation, Husband got the sleepy puppy out of her crate and brought her to bed. She is a real cuddler and snoozed away with us for a few more hours, alternatively resting her head on me or Husband. Interestingly, Husband kept trying to get her to stay on his side of the bed. But, she’s an equal opportunity snuggler. I got my share of nose-nudging.
George M. Schulz was right: Happiness is a warm puppy. But, it’s also Husbands who understand, even if it isn’t always spoken outloud.
(*Note: Title of blog post is from the poem, What Are Little Boys Made Of?)
What’s In Your Shopping Cart?
Posted by: | CommentsI believe I am a champion grocery shopper. Fresh organic veggies. Check. Fresh basil for pesto. Check. Salmon on sale. Check. Husband’s favorite cereal? Check. A case of wine (because you really want to earn that 15% discount, right?). Check.
Six bags later and we could open our own gourmet restaurant.
When I was single, I sucked at food shopping. It is hard to cook for one person. It’s even harder when that one person (me) travelled a lot for business. Add living in major city with abundant restaurants along with lots of single friends to hang out with and lots of single men to date, well, you could say eating in was the exception and not the rule.
But now married, the whole food business has been turned on its head. I learned how to shop. And, cook. (And, basically gained 10 pounds on the spot. I hear this story often from former single people now married and cooking most nights.)
However, getting married later in life adds to the change-up. For one, we have very definite ideas about what constitutes real food. We’ve had about 40 years to declare our different tastes. Nothing spotlights this more than around Super Bowl time. (Someone reallly needs to do a study about how much more food is sold due to football.)
This particular Super Bowl Sunday weekend also was special. We were expecting 28 inches of snow (which is about 28 inches more than we ever get). I – along with the rest of the town – descended upon our various and sundry food stores a few days in advance to basically wipe them clean. I came home with, oh, about eight bags. This is a lot. Remember, there are only two of us. Oh, and one puppy.
But, apparently, I did not get all the right food. This is because yesterday, as the 28 inches of snow began to descend, Husband announced he was going food shopping.
What do we need? I asked.
Snacks for Sunday. He said earnestly. And, out the door he went into the blizzard to hunt down and drag home two tubs of hummus, one tub of guacamole, a bag of chips, six boxes of various crackers, grapes, more beer (we were down to a measly six), three kinds of gourmet cheeses, a bag of carrots and broccoli for dipping, various fruit drinks, bananas, and I don’t know what else. It was three bags of snacks. For the two of us.
(He also proudly told me that, when he arrived, there was no guacamole anywhere. But, he tracked someone down who was unloading a truck to get the “just-shipped-in” fresh tub.)
We now could be snowed in for about three weeks and never have anything twice. I do believe we have more food in our kitchen than the Harris Teeter has left on its shelves. I’m not exactly sure what the correlation between football and a sudden surge in appetite, but it’s there. Good thing it’s snowing. We’re gonna need some shoveling exercise.
I Have a Puppy! Sort of.
Posted by: | CommentsWell, actually, she’s not mine. We’re puppy-sitting for two weeks while friends are on vacation. And, I have been told, under no uncertain terms, by all parties involved (including Husband) that she is to return to her family upon vacation’s end. Ooooo-kay.
I am sure Husband has ulterior motives for this puppy stint. He is hoping it will cure me of my doggie desires. Ha. I have made no secret of my puppy lust. But, he continues to try to steer me in the direction of believing this is a lot of trouble. Subtly is not Husband’s strong suit in such matters, so I saw right through his veiled attempts at turning me off to puppy motherhood.
Puppy is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel with a baby face and sweet temperament to match. She loves to play, yet sleeps a LOT. These traits make it hard to not want one of your own. Husband still tries to stay neutral.
For one, the first time she “doo-dooed” (outside), she promptly decided to clean her butt (once inside) on the carpet. Husband picked her up, stuck her cute little tush in my face and said, get out the baby wipes. This is your job. (Subtle.) Husband sorely underestimated my resolve for puppy care, however. Wiping a butt the size of a teddy bear is not hard at all.
She slept through the first night with us, easily. Then, in the morning, she awoke at 5:30 a.m. needing to go outside. Husband poked me. She needs to go out, he announced and promptly rolled over. I could “feel” him smiling. I am sure he was hoping this early-rising to do puppy pee duty was going to turn me off immediately, given I am not a morning person. No such luck.
Puppy didn’t exactly want to be out in the new 12 inches of powder snow that we got the day before, either. She walked out, did her thing, and walked right back in. And, while earlier int he day her favorite pee spot at Chez LBB was the middle of the road in front of our house, she was easily persuaded to visit “out back” to claim a new spot that early, early morning. (We’re hoping once the snow melts and the asphalt reveals itself, she’ll also decide that’s not the best place to squat.)
Back into her crate, she was snoring again before my head hit the pillow. About two hours later she let us know she had enough of her crate and promptly crawled into bed with us. (Well, okay, I picked her up and assumed the snuggle position.) She was snoring again before I had a chance to rearrange the bed covers. She slept until 8:30. My kinda girl.
Husband was not amused. He thinks a Puppy-Wife conspiracy is being developed. Heh-heh-heh. We girls stick together.
Cooking Dinner. Not.
Posted by: | CommentsSo, how bad is it that I just. don’t. want. to. prepare. dinner. anymore?
Moms around the world, I salute you. Cooking every night for a family must be a grind like none other. I am starting to feel your pain.
For first few years Husband and I were married, it was kinda cool. Finding fun new recipes, cooking for two, sitting down together. But, lately, I just haven’t felt like it. Call it cooking burnout. Or, food fatigue.
Most nights we’ve been munching before the TV on whatever I can throw together from the fridge and pantry.
Husband can cook, when he feels like it. But, I don’t see him stepping up to the stove in my absence. If I don’t make something, he’ll settle (happily) for a bowl of cereal.
If I had my druthers, I’d just do what I did when single – not eat at all or grab something on the way home. (See: Does marriage make you fatter? Why, yes, it does.)
My cooking doldrums have been going on for two months now. And, my motivation is getting weaker every day. Stopping at the grocery story on the way home to pick up prepared food isn’t giving me a thrill. In fact, grocery shopping on any level is too much.
We dine out more now. But, it gets expensive.
What I really want is for the food to just magically appear. I’ve looked into private chef service. Pricey.
So, I suggested Husband cook at least one night a week. His answer? That’s possible.
Possible or probable? I replied. He laughed.
I’d have to give it a try and see, was his answer.
Somehow I think this idea isn’t going to go anywhere.
Husbands around the world – who have wives who cook regularly – take note. Say something nice to your partner at the dinner table tonight. You never know when it’s going to end.
An Unexpected Upside of Sleeping With Someone
Posted by: | CommentsWe have been having some strange weather in Virginia. This basically puts us in the “normal” weather category as the rest of the country does battle with the elements, as well.
First, there was the Big Snow Storm the week before Christmas. It rarely snows where I live in Virginia, so we were paralyzed with 27 inches of the white stuff for days. (We still have a little patch of snow on our front lawn.)
Then, there was last night. It rained so hard I honestly was worried about the birds. I mean, where do they go when the heavens unleash a fire hose? I’m surprised our windows are still intact, and part of me wondered if my car’s windshield was going to be caved in this morning.
I, of course, posed some of these questions to Husband in the middle of the night. I was awake anyway. (Who can sleep through a gale force?) I asked: What’s going on? Should we be worried? Husband, who consulted the Weather Channel earlier in the evening, remained nonplussed. Apparently, knowing that the weather is coming is calming. I continued to worry about the birds.
Regularly I consult Husband on such nightly matters. What was that? is a common question when I hear something. As someone who cannot, under any circumstance, watch movies about home invasion or other such violence, I immediately think someone is breaking in. Husband replies the same each night. It’s just the house. Our townhouse is still “settling.”
But, it’s nice to have someone to ask when your thoughts are running amuck in the dark. I distinctly remember living in Northern Virginia during my single days. I lived very close to Washington, DC, and was constantly convinced that someone was breaking in when I heard a noise in the dark. Of course, 99 percent of the time this was my mind playing tricks on me. (The fact someone did try to kick in my door one afternoon while I was home did not add to my comfort level. I moved from NoVa about five months later.)
So, while I have complained about having to share my sleeping space with someone, I must add something to the “pro” category. Having someone to ask What was that? when the house settles is kinda nice. Even when they can’t do anything about windows blowing in from torrential storms, it is good to know I won’t be alone when it happens.
Married Thoughts Versus Single Thoughts
Posted by: | CommentsThere are a number of thoughts I have now as a married person, that I am quite certain I did not think when I was single.
What should we have for dinner? That’s one.
Another is please, please, please let the dishes in the dishwasher be dirty. This is because I just want to throw in that spoon and not worry about it. (Admit it, you have this thought.) If they are clean, well, then someone has to unload them. I hate unloading the dishwasher. Guess who unloads the most? When single, I could go a whole month without having to do that deed. Or, just wash them again. What the heck.
Another consideration is how can I get Husband away from that computer to the dinner table? Yes, I have become that woman, the one who yells up the stairs, dinner is ready in 10 minutes. Then, I yell, 5 minutes. And, then I spend the next 15 minutes actually trying to tear him away from his office before the chicken parmesan I’ve prepared gets cold.
Others include:
Do I have time to go to the gym after work before Husband gets home?
Has that towel been used?
Hmm, I wonder if Husband will leave first tomorrow morning and I should pull into the driveway first. But, then I might want to go the gym. Naaa, I should just pull in so he can pull in behind me. But, then again he might take that conference call tomorrow from home and then…
Should I put a note on that cheese (do not eat)?
I was here first, so hands off the remote.
Should I put a note on that dark chocolate (don’t you dare eat)?
Will he remember about my dance class tonight so he has to fend for himself for dinner (even though I’ve been going to this same class for three years now)?
Do we need milk? (But, only when I’m standing in milk aisle of the grocery store. When I was single, I always knew what was in the refrigerator. Nothing.)
Like that.
And, then, of course there is when are you coming home? I miss you.
TIVO Was Supposed To Answer All Our Prayers
Posted by: | CommentsI will never catch up to Husband. His television watching, that is. I am so hopelessly behind now, I don’t know even where to begin.
We have two DVRs and two TVs. One “set” resides in the living room and the other in the bedroom. This means nothing need ever be missed.
However, having equipment does not guarantee the user plays by all the rules.
And, just because you can record, does it mean you should? If you do record, are you obligated to then view?
How about synching your TV watching moods with your spouse, now that you have a library from which to choose?
And, is he allowed to hit “play” on a recorded show without you? Or should Husband and I reconcile our TV watching schedules, which is ironic since the whole reason we got the DVR(s) in the first place was so we wouldn’t be a servant to a schedule?
While we have been liberated from being a slave to TV time schedules, we have now been introduced to a new kind of dilemma. And, it all comes down to the fact I dare to go to bed before Husband.
You see, in addition to the shows we record because we’re just not home, we record anything on after 9 p.m. I need my beauty sleep, and would rather read before bed anyway. I figure I can watch later. Husband – still alive and kicking until at least 11 p.m. – refuses to wait if something good is on. I mean, why should he, really?
But, then, the next night (or so) I want to watch what I missed. Husband laments he’s already seen it. And, of course, now there is something else good to watch – it being a new night, and all.
So, now, the shows pile up on our DVRs, waiting for a Saturday when I get plow through four to five shows at once.
(You’ve got to love the ability to forward right through all those commercials. It’s interesting that a 30 minute show is really just 22 minutes long. And, I can get through an hour show in about 45 minutes. Makes you believe all that stuff about TV watching really sucking time from your life. I mean if you watch three shows in one night, that’s at least 45 minutes of commercials you’re wasting your time on. But, I digress…)
Also, when this far behind, you also have to deal with the existential dilemma of trying to figure out what to catch up on, first.
Do, I catch up on Heroes? (Because Husband will not wait for me on that show. No way. No, sir.) Or, do I turn to Fringe or Leverage, first? Then, there is Dr. Oz and Oprah (dozens of those). Oh, and let us not forget all those cool Discovery, PBS and History channel shows about what would happen if humans suddenly disappeared from the earth and how Vikings have really gotten a bad rap all these years.
Makes me wonder if we could add to the marriage contract, Thou shall not sally forth with TV watching without spouse. Or, maybe I’ll just go read a book.
The LBB Perspective on PBS’ This Emotional Life: Families, Friends & Lovers
Posted by: | CommentsPBS recently launched a three-part television series called This Emotional Life. Hosted by Daniel Gilbert, a social psychologist who studies happiness, it explores the emotional side of being human.
The first segment, Families, Friends & Lovers, focuses on the state of our relationships, their impact, and the level of importance in a person’s life. Normally, I would be thinking, well, didn’t I already know this stuff? But, this series goes into specifics about how our emotions are dictated by the health of our relationships to such depth, I ended up clinging to Husband on the couch.
Daniel Gilbert goes on to explain: When we come together as family, as friends as lovers, we become more than the sum of our parts. We are the most successful of all the animals on our planet because we’re the most social. …in the end, those social connections, those bonds are what it’s all about. When they are strong, we are happy. When they are threatened, we worry. When they disappear, we suffer….Our happiness is in each other’s hands.
Let the clinging begin.
How we deal with relationships is tied to how we start in the world – babyhood — and how much love and attention we receive. Then, as we move into social realms – extended families, school, friendships – things get really interesting. And, eventually, as we are led to romantic love in the form of coupling and partnership, it reaches a head. My clinging grew a little more fevered at that point.
Companionship’s importance is as high for our survival as food, water and shelter, said Gilbert. And, because we—as a society – are so good at interacting with others, we are a powerful species.
Well. Pat ourselves on the back.
But, as this show delves into all kinds of topics, profiling people and families going through some of the harder aspects of relationship, we see how sometimes we are not very good at being with others. The show looks deeply into attachment disorder, Asperger’s Syndrome, conflict, leadership, children, power struggles, bullying, cooperation, infidelity, sex, loneliness and more.
Being together may be integral to our well being, but we make – and break – each other’s hearts constantly.
For a married-later-in life woman, a few “a-ha” moments, as well as just good old fashioned vindication, were found including:
1. Give up perfection. The show reinforces what we all know: expectation management is key. This is hard for an LBB, who waited a long time—either by choice or not – to commit to the marriage level of relationship. When you do take the marital plunge, no matter how sophisticated you think you are, certain expectations exist. He is supposed to be The One, Bringing All Manners of Perfection Into Your Life.
But, Elizabeth Gilbert, one of my favorite authors, who was interviewed for this segment summed up the fallacy of seeking such expectations beautifully: It’s not enough that you have this sort of decent relationship with this person. He also has to be your best friend. He also has to be your only romantic partner. He also has to be somebody who inspires you every day. He has to be somebody who is going to help your career. He has to be somebody who co-parents with you. He has to meet you on 25 different levels of intersection. It’s this giant sack of expectation that we’ve piled on to this sort of wobbly head of this old institution that was never necessarily about that in the past.
The centuries’ old tradition of getting married continues, but our expectations have grown exponentially. Come to think about it, if this were a few centuries ago, I’d be dead by now. They did not have late bloomer brides in the 16th century. (Given how long we live, perhaps now we are striving for perfection because we’re gonna be with them for a long, long time?)
2. Conflict is natural. To paraphrase what I heard on This Emotional Life, committing yourself to live with one person invites a certain level of disagreement and opportunities for disappointment. Kind of like, if you dive into the lake, you are inviting getting wet and maybe be nibbled by some fish. If you want to be sure to stay dry (and fish free), stay out of the water. So, relationships invite the possibility of all kinds of things – both good and bad – that you didn’t have to deal with alone.
As an LBB, I had hoped all manners of things would be resolved from marriage. Rather, some things are and some things that were once resolved now become unresolved. Sleeping alone gets handled. But, then Husband introduces furniture that you wouldn’t take home for free. You go from living in your dream-decorated little condo to our place, living with an uncomfortable kitchen banquet that doesn’t fit anywhere.
3. Doing things together is marital fertilizer. Forgetting for a moment how relationships break up, the show turns to how relationships last about two-thirds in. Doing things together, building something together and just plain having some fun and excitement is the key.
Oh, and a really good sex life (as you define it).
Art Aron, Ph.D. said: What it takes to have a relationship that is vibrant, that is lively, that is exciting…from the research so far, we know 2 things that bring in the positive. One is what is called capitalization and that is getting excited about your partners successes and building on them, capitalizing on them. The other is making your life together exciting.
When couples share novel and exciting experiences together, they grow close. Good thing Husband and I are having the Year of Fun (with just a little more clinging).
There’s more, but you may just have to set your own DVRs or buy the DVD.
The Dance of Desires, Wishes and Dreams – Who is Supposed to Lead?
Posted by: | CommentsThe parallel between marriage and ballroom dancing has been drawn many times. So, I probably can’t add much. Except for the fact that I may declare here and now that whatever “they” have said is probably true—how you are on the dance floor is how you are in life.
Husband and I took about six months of ballroom dancing – learning the foxtrot, the waltz, swing, nightclub 2 step. (Tango was out given how much we struggled with the simple foxtrot.)
During that six months, Husband was vindicated in more ways than he could count. But, then again, so was I.
For one, I am terrible at following (which basically tracks with the rest of the time). He knew he married an independent woman. But, independence is not rewarded on the dance floor. Following is rewarded.
In most ballroom dancing, men are in charge. Women are to be led. And, as our teacher said, if he stops, you stop. You don’t do anything until he tells you to, all with his hand and sometimes the placement of his hips – which, by the way, I’m not supposed to watch. I’m just supposed to somehow “feel it.”
My real job was to follow his hand, keep the frame (the space between us), and maintain “tone” in my outstretched arm. (So much for all that Pilates. Five minutes of that and my arm was screaming at me.)
Most of the time, it turned out Husband wasn’t interested in leading me anywhere (which also basically tracks with the rest of the time). He’d rather I just follow without him having to do anything. Or, just do whatever I want to do. But, this does not work on the dance floor. He must command.
(Additional trouble included the fact it took us four lessons before I realized the hand I was supposed to be following was the one on my back – not the one at the end of my screaming outstretched arm. And, while following his supposedly ever-present hand on my shoulder blade was hard enough, Husband’s hand kept falling down to my waist, which meant now my torso was attempting to chase said hand around the dance floor. We looked like two ostriches attempting to mate.)
This lead-follow technique is an interesting concept around daily life. If you are a late bloomer bride – married for the first time over age 40 – you have led your own life for a long time. You would have never gotten in the dance otherwise. But, now married, learning when to lead and when to follow can be confusing. For instance, when you want something in your life – and it’s something you wished for, for a very, very long time, who is supposed to take the lead on the wish fulfillment?
I was recently told by someone that I “oversold” the fact I wanted a dog. And, this meant I wouldn’t get it. In an attempt to answer Husband’s question – “what do you want for Christmas?” — apparently the fact I was honest – and honest often – meant I was being too something. Maybe I was trying to lead when I should have been following?
Yet, all the advice I’ve received about discussing your desires include
- You are to be honest at all times,
- Drop the manipulation,
- Don’t expect your spouse to be a mind reader, and
- Men don’t do subtle. You must be direct.
In other words, lead them. But, maybe there is a “just lead them enough” clause that I missed in the marriage contract? Or, are there some dances you’ll never get to dance with your spouse no matter what? So, it doesn’t matter who leads or follows? Just sign me “wanting to learn, but so confused.”
