Jumping the gun

I'm a worry wart with an active imagination. It's a dangerous combination that I'm sure will give me premature gray hairs before I hit 30.

So when Nick told me what time he was going to be home and then was running very, very late my mind started to race. I tried to keep myself busy...I watched tv, made dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, checked Facebook (two, maybe three times), sent out a few e-mails, even checked my work e-mail. I wanted to call him, but then in the back of my mind I told myself, "No. Don't be one of those naggy, whiny wives."

Ugh..."When are you coming home? Where are you? What are you doing? Who are you with?..."

But then road conditions had been terrible so my mind went to work yet again.

Well Nick made it home just fine, late, but fine. My nerves were a little haywire and I was upset he hadn't called or used someone else's phone when his died.

And to top it all off I was late, too. Not late to get home, but ya know late. The time of the month came and nothing happened. (I do have to note that by medical standards I wasn't really, truly late just later than what I was use to. That's where my imagination starts giving me trouble.)

So needless to say Nick being late, in the actual sense of the word, sent me into overdrive.

I was huffing and puffing through the kitchen telling him how worried I was, how upset he would be if I did this...I went on and on and on and on. Then out of nowhere I blurt out, "And I haven't started my period" as I immediately burst into tears.

Nick was dumbfounded. Here he was getting a verbal lashing as he was apologizing profusely when the conversation takes a complete 180 and he finds out his wife may be pregnant.

I turned into a blubbering idiot as Nick gave me the biggest hug. All I could say was, "But I don't want to be pregnant".

Since before we were ever married we said we wanted to wait at least a few years before we even tried to start a family. We love spending time with our friends who have babies and kids, but we always have said we're not ready yet.

I didn't want parenthood thrust upon us when we weren't planning. I looked at Nick pitifully with mascara running down my cheeks and said randomly, "Can we take a baby to Europe?" As if for some reason our child would not be able to obtain his or her passport.

Within a five minute tear-filled moment my mind had flashed to how we would be able to travel like we wanted to where would we put a nursery to my growing belly and swollen ankles to labor and delivery to losing baby weight. I was a wreck.

Then Nick looked at me and laughed (nervously), "It would be pretty cool if you were. We've been married a while now." A shift in our relationship happened that night. I honestly knew right then and there that no matter what the outcome we COULD do this, not only because we would have no other choice but to become parents, but because we'd be in it together.

I know pretty cheesy, huh?

I hate to cut into the suspense, but we found out there will be no little Nichole or Nick brought into this world...a day later. All that emotion and chaos! Talk about jumping the gun.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved 

Sleeping with my husband

Sleeping with my husband is an adventure every night. And by sleeping I mean really sleeping.

It started off with his incessant snoring. For weeks post-wedding I would be jolted awake by what sounded like an engine starting up in my ear.

Adapt and overcome...adapt and overcome. Eventually my light sleeper ways subsided.

While I'm not a snorer (although Nick may say otherwise) I'm a talker. And I've learned Nick has a lot to say too.

Just when I thought I could finally sleep soundly I was snapped out of a dead sleep when Nick jerked upright and yelled, "What the hell?". Just as quickly as he sat up he settled back down, not even opening his eyes. A few nights later he rolled over to my side of the bed to ask me to, "Please close the trophies."

The trophies? Really love...what did we win?

Now this bed time banter isn't all one-sided. I've woken Nick up a time or two when I've stolen all the blankets or decided to sleep diagonally across the bed.

Just one of married life's many blessings. Should have registered for the California king and some ear plugs maybe?

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved 

Go to bed laughing

I recently wrote an article for a local niche publication where I was instructed to interview long-time married couples on how they "made love last".

It was one of those cutesy fluff pieces that make you feel good after writing it. As a newlywed, I was eager to hear what these couples had to say.

I was given the information for a gentleman nearing his 80s who had been married for 55 years. That's more than Nick and my age combined. He was the sweetest, cutest old man. By the end of the conversation I knew about his time in the military, how he met his wife, how many children and grandchildren he had (he wishes he had great grandchildren) what each of them do for a living as well as their spouses not to mention his baby sister married a bee keeper and he does not care to be stung.

While these might seem the ramblings of a proud old man, I saw a man happier than ever with the choices he made and incredibly grateful for the woman he had by his side along for the ride. He called her his baby and said his advice to couples would be to go to bed laughing every night.

I had never heard that before. Of course you always hear, "never go to bed mad"...but go to bed laughing. I loved the thought. I started to think back on all the times Nick has made me laugh and I knew that kind old man was on to something.

I thought I'd share one of my recent favorites:
Christmas morning was different for us. It was our first Christmas morning together as a married couple. We had finished opening gifts when Nick decided he wanted to try on his new shoes I bought him - black, white and gray DCs (no he doesn't think he's a skater, he just likes Rob Dyrdek and his shoes). A t-shirt, plaid pajama pants and white socks was not exactly the perfect ensemble to pair with the shoes. I glanced over and Nick had tucked in his shirt, pulled up his pants to his chest revealing those lovely white socks with black shoes and decided to dance around our living room singing the hamster car commercial theme song, "You can get with this or you can get with that...". I about died! I only wish I had the video camera on.

Yes this is the man I married. He made Erkel look like a god.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved 

Man of the House

After four months of marriage, we're settling into our house. Our first place has been great and the neighborhood is just as nice! Living in a townhouse has been a first for the two of us...we never lived in an apartment either*...so adjacent neighbors is a new adventure.

Our neighbors seem nice enough. They're cordial and do the friendly wave when we get the mail or take out the garbage. However from time to time it sounds like elephants have moved in next door. I know our neighbors have three dogs (one of which is a great dane) but no dog, animal or human being could possibly make that much noise.

Our spare bedroom, which has been transformed into the family room/tv room/where my sisters sleep when they stay the night room/man cave/Blackhawks room butts up to what I believe is our neighbors' kitchen or living room. So when we're relaxing watching a movie and I hear thud, boom, bang I know either their dogs have gone rabid or they feel the need to beat the walls with pots and pans.

On top of these neighborly noises our house makes its normal creaks and cracks from time to time. Houses settle, but when you're lying in bed and its dark (regardless if someone is in the room with you) it can make your imagination run wild.

I was looking forward to having a big, strong man to "protect me" from the bumps in the night. Just the other night the weather was particularly bad and I know it was probably the wind, but we heard something outside. I knew our neighbors tend to keep their noise indoors.

I immediately looked at Nick with that, "Aren't you going to check on that?" face. He immediately responded, "Why me?"

I consider myself an independent woman, but believe you me scary noises downstairs late at night...you bet I'm sending my husband to look! If there was some monster lurking in the shadows waiting to get us it seemed my husband was more than willing to sacrifice me to save his own life.

The "Man of the House" is just as big a chicken as I am!

*Note: I did live on a naval base in an apartment up until the age of four, but I don't remember it so I'm not counting it as far as living arrangements go.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved 

Just when you think you know someone

Nick and I have never lived together, but we spent so much time together I thought for sure I knew just about everything. Prior to moving into our first home together I knew things would be interesting and eye opening.

Now some things I could make easy assumptions about. For instance: I knew he would be a little messy considering I'd seen what his bedroom at his parents' house looked like. Considering Nick's affinity for all things junk food related, I knew he would throw a hissy fit about me refusing to buy a ton of junk. God forbid there's a few too many carrots and hummus in the house!

But one assumption I had no way of assuming ahead of time. (Note: one reason I fell in love with Nick is his sense of humor and cookiness, but this takes the cake.)

Although Nick has a great singing voice he goes around the house singing in the goofiest voices whether it's in the shower (where he also feels the need to do voices/quote movies to himself) or unloading the dishwasher he's always singing. When he doesn't think I'm listening he sings to our dog and inserts our dog's name into songs. Last night's vocal stylings included, "Zeusy Got Run Over By a Reindeer".

This isn't a gripe whatsoever! It's not even something that one has to deal with. It's just down right hilarious! Of all the things I prepped myself for I never thought it would be this. He never ceases to amaze me.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved 

Trial and error

Nick's godson just turned two months old earlier this month. Me, the self-proclaimed "baby hog" in the family has been dying to babysit since the day we went to the hospital to meet him. How can you not adore all twelve roly poly pounds of him? He's a sweetheart with tons of teddy bear brown hair and big blue eyes. And at times I see the family resemblance to Nick.

His godson at times, makes me want to throw our plan out the window and have one of our own. To squelch those hormonal feelings I hover around the baby at family parties, hoping to hold him as much as possible. And when he gets fussy, I can pass him back to his mom, grateful for my temporary baby fix.

But when Nick's cousin text messaged to see if we wanted to babysit the baby overnight I jumped at the opportunity. I could see the terror in Nick's eyes.

While I was excited, Nick was nervous. We loaded a swing, bassinet, a diaper bag and an overnight bag into the car. We both couldn't believe we had a baby strapped in a car seat in our backseat.

Nick went 10 mph down the street and only picked up speed on the highway. We got home close to midnight and by midnight the baby was out cold. When Nick and I called it a night we had no idea what to expect. Although we were well informed with four, double-sided pages of instructions from the baby's mom I was a little uneasy.

Nick placed the bassinet as close to the edge of the bed as possible and turned on a nightlight. Just as I was about to fall asleep he rolled over to my side and said, "Are you sure you'll be able to hear him?" We got up the next morning relieved he only woke up once! We considered buying lottery tickets.

The rest of the day went scary smooth and I hoped this wasn't the universe's way giving us a sign.

Then later that day we received an early Christmas gift from his godson. A very dirty diaper. Nick has never had the pleasure of changing a diaper. When he realized the little present we were about to receive came in a very small, but powerful package he instantaneously backed against the wall, covered his face, gagging. Sometimes, I realize I have to take opportunities when they present themselves. I walked casually passed Nick, making him think he was out of the woods of doing diaper duty. Instead I did an about face and chased him with baby.

It could be considered torture, but it was absolutely priceless. Nick was begging me to stop. He promised to change every one of our children's diapers if I just spared him this one. I may have to hold him to that someday.

The things I do to get my kicks. My poor husband.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved 

Let me let you in on a little secret...

Most people who know me understand I'm a feminist. I don't believe in gender roles. I feel men and women are equal and should be treated equally.

But something bizarre happened after our big day. I felt like my mind was transported to the 1950s. I suddenly wanted to make sure his work clothes were clean, folded and put away. I had the desire to make sandwiches with all the gourmet toppings. I pictured myself in a cutesy little apron (and not much else - hey we're newlyweds!) creating Food Network worthy dishes for dinner, waiting for him to come home from work.

And the first few days of us being home from our honeymoon played out very similar to that. And the best part of it, Nick played into the dutiful husband as well. Even when he worked in the afternoon, he would wake up in the morning to have coffee and/or breakfast with me before I left for work. It was picturesque to say the least.

Then a lightbulb went off. While in my marriage daydreams this sounded wonderful, but I wondered how long we could both keep this up in reality.

Don't get me wrong oftentimes it is about the little things and keeping things like this up that help build a relationship, but if there is one thing I know it's myself. I knew that if for years Nick woke up with me every morning I had to work and then suddenly didn't I would be heartbroken. It would lead to arguments and tears (from me of course) and a sense of resentment that I didn't want.

So the very week we came home from our honeymoon I told Nick, "Love, if you don't plan on doing this until the day we die please don't."

Now that wasn't his get out of jail free card or mine for that matter. It was the realization that I wanted to continue to both be self-sufficient and get little surprises from time to time instead of creating expectations.

The same holds true for other chores! I'm not a housekeeper, I'm a wife. He is fully capable of putting his laundry in the hamper, so if I have to suffer for a few days and step over his dirty socks so be it. I will not make that an expectation.

Now some may look at this and say, "Wow! What a..." well you know. But that's not it. It's not. We split chores and do our fair share around the house because we both work full time and this is our house. I'm not afraid to take out the garbage or cut the grass. Nick will do laundry and the dishes.

I hope this is our key to success. Hopefully I can let you know on our 50th wedding anniversary.

© Nichole DeMario, 2010 – 2012. All rights reserved