Love

"Love, hell.  That damn stuff stinks." 

 Quote by my Great-Aunt Dot Miller

When we lost our dog, Nick, I didn't know if I would be able to ever (1) get over his loss or (2) welcome another dog into my life.

But as time passed, I really started to miss having a dog around.  Of course, I missed Nick specifically, but I also just missed having a little ball of love around, the noise of nails clicking on the floor, of having something that I could talk to, etc.  And as a couple of hard personal events took place earlier this year, including a big fight with depression, I really missed having a dog that I could just pet at the end of a hard day.

Matt wasn't nearly as keen as I was on getting another dog.  In fact, he really just didn't want one.

And marriage is about compromise and give and take.  I could never bring an animal into a house where Matt wasn't full on board.  A dog totally changes your lifestyle.  It would have been wrong to ask him to change his life because I wanted a dog.

But Matt loves me and saw how often I would look at dog adoption sites.  And talk about dogs.  And draw dogs.  So, last week, Matt started looking at dogs for adoption and found the little cuties that we just adopted.

He not only found them, he encouraged me to meet Ray.  He told me that two dogs would be ok when we found out that Ray and Reynolds were dumped together and were best friends.  He kept reassuring me that he would welcome them with open arms.

As we now have dogs in our house for the first time in over a year, we also are dealing with potty accidents in the house and the smell of dog.  And we clean up pee with vinegar and water and look at each other and talk about what sweethearts these two little monsters are.

Yes, love, that damn stuff, does stink.  Right now, it smells like dog and vinegar and water.  And that's the smell of a husband who understood exactly how important a four-legged little fur-ball was to me.

Postscript to the Letter to My Husband

Used dirt bike for $2500 that you rode for 90 minutes

Emergency room visit for $16,573.91 that lasted 2 hours

Having something to say to you everytime you want to do something dangerous -- "Do you remember the dirt bike?" -- that lasts the rest of our lives

BEST MONEY YOU EVER SPENT!

Let's See You Match Me With This

We hardly ever watch network TV in our house, but we have been watching the Olympics since they have been on.  I guess the Olympic-watching crowd is mostly single because I have been overwhelmed by the number of match.com and eharmony.com commercials that come on.  Every time one of these commercials comes on, I think, "I'm so glad that I don't have to date anymore."

Matt tells me that I am the worst dater that he has ever met.  He says that he didn't like me the first, second or third time that he met me.  On our first official date, I remembered that I had a prescription that I had to pick up before the pharmacy closed.  I thought that I was being extremely flexible when I told him that I had to go to the drugstore so we could (1) go together, (2) I could go and he could wait for me at the restaurant or (3) we could call the evening done and talk later.  Matt has said that it wasn't being flexible, it was being the worst date ever.  (By the way, he opted to go with me to the drugstore.  I told him that I could have bought a bunch of yeast infection medicine and foot fungus treatment and then he could call it the worst date ever.)

My bad dating skills aren't the worst around.  Recently, we had a girls' weekend at my mom's house with my mom, aunts and cousins.  During the course of the night, my Aunt Margo told the story about going on a double date with her ex-husband (her boyfriend at the time) and another couple back when they were all in high school.  I can't remember the names of the other couple, and it really doesn't matter, but the story goes that as they were driving through town the other girl yelled, "Stop the car!  I gotta shit!"

Even as I laughed, all I could do was think a couple of things.  First, I was surprised that the teenagers of what I've always thought of as my mom's squeaky clean background would use the word "shit".  Then I kept wondering why the girl (let's call her Jane Doe), why Jane Doe would think that it would be okay to just yell out "I gotta shit".  Did she grow up in one of those houses where talking about that was normal?  Like "I'm thirsty" or "I'm hungry"?  I've never been in a house like that, but surely they exist.  Or maybe she was trying to turn off her date?  I guess we'll never know.

Then my Aunt Bobbie piped up and told us about one time when she was out on a double date.  My Aunt Bobbie worked at the hospital for 30+ years and was working there as a young woman during the time of the story.  She and her companions were out on their date when she realized that she needed to check on a patient that might be released.  She said to them, "We need to run by the hospital so I can check to see if I have a discharge."

I laughed even harder at this story because this would So. Totally. Happen. to me.  I misunderstand people and they misunderstand me all the time.  Just word choice, I guess, and where your head is and their head is.  Like recently, I had to have a colonoscopy.  Which means drinking this nasty stuff called "movi-prep" the night before.  The next day before the procedure, the nurse asked, "Did you get clean from the movi-prep?"  And I said, "Yes, I took a shower this morning, so I don't have any on me."  She said, "No, are you cleaned out?"  Oh, yeah, that too.

And I just realized that my story and my Aunt Margo's story both come back to poo.  Maybe I do know one of those households and it's mine.

A Letter to My Husband

Dear Matt,
I love you.  I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.  But I don't understand you.

You are so smart, and funny, and thoughtful.  You are a planner, a researcher, a super-reviewer of the details; you are my "go-to" person when I want to know which car to buy, which vacation to take, which restaurant to try -- you usually think things through so much that sometimes I think you can get a case of "paralysis of analysis."

You think about what's healthy for you.  We buy organic milk and fruits and vegetables.  You avoid OTC medications.  You avoid artificial flavors and sweeteners.  You are a very careful driver, always wearing your seat belt, driving defensively.

I understand all this.  Here's what I don't understand:

You, who won't wear antiperspirant because of the aluminum in it (even though there haven't been any reported cases of widespread death by antiperspirant), bought a dirt bike this past weekend (even though there have been many reported cases of injury and death by dirt bike).

First 20 Minutes on Bike

I am amazed at what you will do TO your body despite what you won't PUT IN your body.  Did you know that you are no less vulnerable on the outside than you are on the inside?

And when you had a wreck about 30 minutes after this picture was taken, it was scary just how vulnerable you were.

How Things Could Have Been
source: tim.2wgroup.com

No, this isn't you.  I stole this picture from the internet.  But it could have been you.  And then what would you have done?  Especially without any antiperspirant on underneath all that plaster?

So, Matt, my husband, my love, my soul mate -- are you any more cautious with what you will do to your body now than you were before?  Can I mark sky diving, race car driving, diving with Great White Sharks, hang gliding and all those other X-treme hobbies that make my head explode off your To-Do list?

Or am I still destined to not understand?  Either way, I love you.  But I let me know if I need to increase our Flexible Spending in our Health Account next year.

xoxoxoxo,

Cristy