It's been too long...

I thought for sure after the wedding life as we knew it would die down...wrong-O! Between Nick's promotion at work (but still looking for a career), working on getting the house all settled in, family parties, Nick's godson being born, etc. etc. etc. not to mention trying to make time for each other I've been hard pressed to blog.

But don't worry...I'm right back at it!

We celebrated our one month anniversary! Woo hoo! I can't believe it's been a month already. Part of me still doesn't feel married and then I see the his dirty socks on the bedroom floor and realize "Yep, honey he's all yours."

I've been dying to share our latest debacle. It was one of those mixed bag of emotions full of highs and lows. Here goes:

After the cheese stick incident (which subsequently gave me the nickname Cheese Stick Nazi by Nick's family), Nick continued to insist on snack food in the house. As if he didn't have an ulterior motive he would say things like, "Oh, by the way, PayLow has Jack's pizza on sale five for ten...that's a pretty good deal huh?". Day after day he would give me updates on local grocery stores' latest frozen snack food deals well, I finally caved.

Jewel had a great deal on frozen pizzas during my last grocery trip so I picked up a few to pacify my husband. But believe me this story is so much more than 1/2 inch thick cardboard with mozzarella!

The other night I had just come home from kickboxing. I was pretty tired, but feeling too lazy to shower. I sat down on the couch for a bit. Nick had that look on his face and when he went to share the blanket with me on the couch I knew where this was headed.

Rejection #1

Instead, I went to take that much needed shower wondering why on Earth he would want anything to do with me after I just worked up a sweat for an hour.

After relaxing for a bit, I called it a night. Well Nick was at it again, but simultaneously I wanted to talk (eh, lecture) him about not getting up early enough to switch the laundry or make the bed instead he played fetch with our golden retriever for an hour. Needless to say that killed the mood.

Rejection #2

Angry with me, he decided the best way to spite me was to go eat a frozen pizza at 11:15 pm (knowing full well that eating late is one of my biggest pet peeves). That'll show me! Frustrated and rejected, he took a steak knife out of the block to open up the packaging. Nick jerked the knife through the plastic and continued straight into the side of his index finger.

At this point I was drifting off to sleep when I heard fumbling in the master bath. I heard Nick say, "This could probably use stitches." I of course threw back the covers to go investigate.

Sure enough, Nick was holding his finger trying to stop the bleeding. Thankfully it ended up being a lot better than it originally looked only requiring some peroxide, neosporin and two bandages. He looked at me with these pitiful eyes and said, "This is all your fault you know." Nice try pal. We definitely got a good laugh out of it. And of course I have to rub it in that none of this would have happened if he would just leave frozen, preservative packed food where it belongs - at the grocery store.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2011. All rights reserved

Still melting my heart.

Since falling into a married-life routine Nick and I have come to enjoy our down time together. The work day is over, we've just enjoyed a nice home cooked meal (or takeout from time to time) and we're ready to unwind.

The other night while cleaning up dinner dishes together (thank goodness he does dishes!) I asked an increasingly usual question, "So, what's the movie for tonight?"

Nick replied, "Well what are you in the mood for?" I simply said, "Eh, you decide."

Nick very, very seriously looks at me and said, "We should decide together." Personally, it didn't matter to me he knows the drill by now:
1. I prefer romantic comedies, but will settle for a good sometimes even raunchy comedy
2. I love tear jerkers between comedies, just for an even mix of emotions
3. I don't like corny, unrealistic action movies
4. I hate gore and most sci-fi
5. Violent, realistic war movies upset me

And we both have too active of imaginations to watch anything scary. So it's pretty simple to please me.

When I asked him why he said matter-of-factly, "Because we're a family."

It stopped me dead in my tracks. I must have looked ridiculous - fry pan in one hand, dish towel in the other, dumbfounded look on my face. I always thought a couple really couldn't be considered a "family". When you address your holiday cards to the newlyweds or empty nesters it's always Mr. and Mrs. Jones or Jane and John Smith. Not the Jones Family. Or at least that was my assumption.

I never thought we would be a "family" until a baby Nick or baby Nichole made their way into this world. It melted my heart and brought tears to my eyes. I didn't want to let on it touched me so much, but it did.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary online simply defines family as, ": a group of individuals living under one roof and usually under one head".

We are a family. Even just the two of us. We are 100-percent living for each other. His needs are my needs, mine his. We are putting the other first. Every decision we make has the other in mind.

And no, the midweek flick is not a life or death decision, but symbolic of all the decisions we have to make together in the future. It's a symbol for the sacrifices and comprises ahead that we'll now make as a family.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2011. All rights reserved

The trouble with towels

It seems dish towels and hand towels have created a wedge between my husband and I. Yes you read correctly - dish towels and hand towels.

Let's start in the heart of the home, the kitchen. For as long as I can remember my mom folded her dish towels in thirds and hung them from the stove handle. Whether it's the best place or the safest place (being fabric in close proximity to heat) I don't know, but that's the way it was done in my house.

Nick's mom always kept her dish towels folded in half by the sink ledge. While it makes perfect, logical sense for a dish towel to be near dishes I just don't like it there. Maybe it's because I'm clumsy and always end up knocking the towel into the sink mid doing dishes?

So the other day Nick and I were in the kitchen. He was by the sink and I was to his right by the stove, about three feet of countertop between us. I reach for the dish towel and he stops me. "Where are you putting that?" I replied, "Right here, where I always do." So he smiles, coyly, walks over and snatches the dish towel from the stove handle. Hands on my hips I said, "You are not putting the dish towel where your mother puts the dish towel." Ever the witty man, he comes back at me with, "You are not putting the dish towel where your mother puts the dish towel."

After this back and forth playful banter went on for a couple minutes I finally said, "You want it there? Fine. Then you can do the dishes." (I really don't care where the towel goes, sometimes I truly like picking on him!)

I thought the dish towel debate had been ended. Husband -1 Wife - 0 (although I will argue I basically forfeited). Well a few days pass and I'm on the bar stool side of our peninsula when Nick reaches over for the dish towel sitting on the counter (the one he just used after drying the dishes! YAY!), folds it into thirds and hangs it on the stove handle. "Why are you hanging it there?" I asked. He smiles, "I know you like it better here."

I have to admit, I was impressed. I underestimated my husband's intelligence. He quickly realized that doing a load of laundry, running the dishwasher and vacuuming can earn him some serious points! And this little move definitely racked them up.

But wait, that's not all! Yes, just when I thought he was getting it my husband went and negated it all. Months ago, when we were registering we both agreed we loved the idea of having a neutral, very clean looking white bathroom (with our mutual favorite color green as the accent). The other night I'm laying in bed and I look over into the master bath. Nick's mumbling about needing new gym shoes as he's scrubbing them with somethin. Tired, I respond mindlessly and get situated for bed.

The next morning I go into the bathroom and realize I should have paid closer attention. Nick decided his shoes were so important he had to scrub them with my new, fluffy, wonderfully soft, perfectly snow white hand towel!

ERRRRRR! I growled, literally, outloud. I took it downstairs and whipped it into the washer. Three loads of whites later and I can still see the damage. Yes, I know I could have just gone back to the JcPenney Home Store and picked up another hand towel, but it's the principal of the matter!

Men ugh.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2011. All rights reserved