Just Call Me Myrtle November 12, 2008

I lost my shit last night.  The panic attacks are becoming more frequent.  I snapped at Paul, he snapped back, and we each retreated into our corners to work it out by ourselves.  He slammed around the kitchen and yelled at the cats for being under foot, and I locked myself in the bathroom and sobbed until I was hyperventilating.  After about 10 minutes, I was feeling a little better, so I washed my face with cold water, came out of the bathroom, and we both acted like nothing happened.  I have to say, if Paul’s learned anything, it’s not to ask me what’s wrong when I’m that fragile.  It will only make me blubber on his shoulder for hours and ultimately feel worse.  On the other hand, a hug would have been nice.

dog-years September 12, 2008

   Monday is our first wedding anniversary.  Next Monday will mark us being together for 5 years.  It seems absolutely crazy to me that we’ve been together this amount of time.  On the one hand, it seems like the wedding was last month (okay, maybe the month before).  On the other hand, it’s like we’ve been together for 20 years.

   Last night we were driving home from the grocery store, and I asked him what a certain note was in a song, because I could not for the life of me hit that note.  But then I was singing along, softly and with incredible self-awareness.  I knew he was listening to me, and when it came to a part that I was unsure if I could pull off, I would hum instead.  I grew up thinking I was tone-deaf, and only recently have I realized that I’m not; instead I have a limited range and absolutely no musical training.  He asked me if I would be able to sing those parts in front of my mom.  I told him no, I could barely sing anything in front of my mom, and definitely not in front of my dad.  So then, we got on the topic of what I could do (or say) in my parent’s presence, as opposed to in front on Paul.  It turns out, I can do 97% of things in front of Paul, and only about 83% of things in front of my folks.  I spent the first 25 years of my life** living with my parents.  I’ve only been living with Paul for about 3 years.  And yet, I know there is no judgment with Paul.  My parent’s may always love me unconditionally, but that doesn’t mean they don’t judge me.  Oh yes, they do judge, constantly and without restraint.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that no one is more judged than by one’s own parents.  I think that, no matter how much you just want them to be happy, however that comes, it’s so hard to not have expectations that will inevitably be shattered.

   Anyways, this post was intended to be about my husband, not my parents.  My point was that I am almost 100% me with my husband, and it’s a very liberating feeling.  I like me, and I’m glad he does too.

   So Paul and I are going away this weekend, to a beach in Maine, where it is forecasted to rain for days on end.  It’s a good thing we splurged on the deluxe room complete with 2-person Jacuzzi and gas fireplace, because I’m not sure we’ll be getting to the beach, or the mini-golf, or any of the other things we love doing when we’re in Maine.  In fact, we’re staying at the same hotel, in the same room as we spent our honeymoon.  I have fond memories of sitting on that bed, opening wedding cards, drinking sparkling cider and eating Pringles, and watching South Park.  Yeah, that’s what we did on our wedding night.  Is that not normal?

* it was a high C

** excluding 4 years of college, during the week

Happy Birthday, Babycakes August 8, 2008

   Today is my husband’s 25^th birthday.  He’s just a babe.  At two and a half years younger than me, I’m practically robbing the cradle.  I love Paul very, very, very much, but it’s so hard for me to quantify that into words.  Instead, I think I will list some reasons why I’m so happy he’s my husband, and my best friend.

 

• The first time we said “I love you” we both cried.
• I still get butterflies in my stomach when I see him unexpectedly.
• We never run out of things to talk about.
• We never feel like we “have” to talk.
• He’s always the first person I want to tell everything to.
• Every time he looks at me or touches me, I feel gorgeous.
• I’m jealous of his thick, dark, wavy hair.
• He thinks his eyes look like poop, but I think they look like chocolate.
• I knew we were meant to be when we went camping, in a tent, for 3 days, all by ourselves, and didn’t drive each other crazy.
• He cooks me dinner almost every night.
• There’s only one person I know who cooks better than him, and that’s my mom.
• He takes out the garbage, does the recycling, cleans the cat pan, does the grocery shopping, washes most of the dishes, and (almost) never complains.
• He always calls me out when I snap at him or act like a bitch.
• My knees actually weaken when he kisses me.
• Last night when I got into bed, he snuggled up to me and rubbed my back until I fell asleep.
• He lets me hold the remote control.
• He talks about our kids like they’re already here, and says things like “when we’re old…”
• He hates beer, but likes girly alcoholic drinks.
• When we moved in together, he was hesitant and didn’t even tell his parents.  He was afraid to “grow up” and that it wouldn’t work out.  He quickly admitted he was wrong and couldn’t believe we’d waited so long (2 years).
• When we were planning our wedding, he was very distant and quiet, letting me and my Mom do most of the work.  But he loved registering for gifts.
• I’ve never seen him smile more than on our wedding day.
• He’s not big on public displays of affection, but every once in awhile he surprises me by holding my hand in Walmart.
• He loves vampires, and once wrote me a story about me and a vampire named Matthew McConaughey.  It was great, but would have been better if Paul had been the vampire.