My Hairy Beast

In thirteen years of marriage, the hairiest part of my husband has been his chest. Or maybe his legs. It hasn't been his face. He has been a member of the clean-face club all the years we've been together. Until now. The men of our church (The guys of the Man Cave)are participating in "No Shave November". Anyone who has ever doubted that my husband is the red head I've always said he is (his hair tends to be brown-red)would, upon seeing his face now, know that he is a red head. And you know, for only be a week old, it's pretty thick already. It's getting to the soft/scratchy stage. Thank goodness he can shave his neck and trim it up. Not that he's got a lot of experience at that. Like I said, he's always been clean shaven.

Well, I take that back. John did have a goatee once. He grew it when I was in Minnesota for my job training, so I barely knew it. But he did valiantly grow it. For two weeks. That was all he could take before the itching drove him to take one last (unsmiling) picture of it, send it to me, and then shave it off with a cry of itchy desperation.

Anyhow, so here he is again, growing out a beard and trying so hard to carry on. It's November 7 and all he can think about is how badly his face itches. I'm thinking it must go away, or there wouldn't be so many men with beards. But the question in our house now is how long will Champs make it before he cries out and shaves the thing off? I'm hoping he makes it this time. Of course, I will be looking forward to welcoming back that soft sweet face I'm used to. Right now he's beginning to look like a sea captain.

And the only other question is "you haven't written in 6 months and the thing that broke the silence was facial hair?!?!

Ha!

But what if it is broke?

"If it ain't broke..."

You can finish the rest of the saying. A five-year old could. But it has occurred to me that I've been doing a lot of not fixing it around here lately. And a few things are broke. It's time to start fixin'. Three things have me thinking about getting busy and fixing what is wrong.

The first broke thing that made me think of this is my husband and his ongoing fight to fix his snow blower. For years it has just started up, spit snow out of its way, and then sat in the garage waiting for the next snow to come. This year, however, it got fussy. It would start, but then die after a minute or two of running. Champs cleaned the fuel lines. Nothing. He cleaned the injector and then the carburetor. Nope. He went and bought a carburetor replacement (because the manufacturer of his machine has gone out of business)and rebuilt the entire piece. He's watched videos of how to fix it, searched online and worked hard - and still it refuses to move snow. He does not have the answer, but he is not giving up.

The second broke thing that made me think of this is me. I have been struggling with being unhappy. I am overweight, overwhelmed, and under-motivated, as I wrote about here. It may be that for the first time, I am truly caring enough to try. I do not have the answers, but I am not giving up.

The third, and perhaps most painful, thing that is broke is my marriage. While I have been struggling with my frustrations and trying to keep them quietly under wraps where they wouldn't bother anyone, it appears that my husband has been dealing with frustrations and failings of his own - and hiding them, as well. I found the hidden damage. There are parts of our marriage that are broken. I didn't know it was broke. Not working at prime operation, certainly, but not broke. I have since learned differently. Thankfully, we have discovered this at the "fix engine" light stage, not at the point when everything grinds to a painful halt on a busy street. I am online, searching for answers, fighting to fix it. He is turning to the proper people to help fix it. We are talking - really talking - for the first time in months about what we can identify and what we know to do about it, regardless of how painful it may be to actually get busy and start doing the work. We don't have all the answers, but we are NOT giving up.

There's a few things broke around here. With God's help and grace, we are fixing them. The snow blower, however, may need to go to the shop.

labyrinth

Yesterday morning I woke up thinking that I was cherished and respected. I went to bed knowing that I was loved - but certainly not as respected as I thought. My husband hurt me in a way I was unprepared for.

Today he put the steps in motion to fix it. I am not happy, but I am convinced that I am loved. Possibly cherished. I've also learned that sometimes you have to fight for what you love.

Marriage is a labyrinth.

The newest member of the family

Family Expansion on a Weeknight

Champs has wanted a dog pretty much since the day we got married almost 11 years ago. Due to varying circumstances - most of them revolving around rental agreements or long employment hours, it just couldn't happen.

However, when we bought our home in March, the door opened for us to finally get a dog. We determined that we wanted a large dog; a Great Dane, preferably, or a mastiff.


We were lined up to adopt a Great Dane in we found in Indiana on Petfinder, but that fell through, breaking our hearts. After that, we tried to adopt a bull dog and then a Great Dane on Craig's List, but the owners were not upright in their business dealings. It was beginning to look like we may never find a dog for our family. Until this last Tuesday.

On Tuesday night, Champs was looking on Petfinder again when he saw these sad eyes looking out from the screen. He immediately wrote to the woman, who responded a few minutes later, giving us the go ahead to call her the next day after noon and discuss meeting the dog. Champs had Wednesday off, so he anxiously awaited noon and then gave Kristine at Eye on the Sparrow Dog Rescue a call. He explained our situation and asked about the dog. Then he agreed to come that evening - if she promised that she wasn't going to back out at the last minute. He explained that we couldn't handle that kind of pain again.

After hearing our story, she promised that the only way we would leave without the dog was if it was our choice. After I got off work, we drove 2.5 hours to northern IL and met the dog she called Andre. He was such a quiet, gentle love. Being a special needs rescue, we knew he may have some issues. He is about 5 years old and is already showing the beginnings of hip displaysia. But even when he was obviously uncomfortable, he was gentle, loving, obedient and calm - exactly the kind of dog I wanted for my introduction back into dog owning, and just what we needed for our daughter and my work-at-home-on-the-phone job. So we brought him home. We didn't get home until after 10:30 on Wednesday, and John needed to be up by 3:45 the next morning. Champs didn't think about the lost sleep; he only thought about the dog.

Bringing a new dog home at 10:30 the night before you have to work, the kid has to go to school, and the cats are expecting another average day is, to say the least, a possibly foolhardy proposition. It worked well though. Well, other than the cats. They were unimpressed, to say the least. Now, four days later, they are beginning to calm down.

By Thursday evening, we had to bathe our new Bull Mastiff, and we were still working on a name for him. When we tried to get him in the tub, he would have none of it - living up to the bull part of his breed, and we couldn't budge him, living up to the mastiff part of his breed. We finally threw up our hands in defeat and took him outside and bathed him on the sidewalk.

By Friday, after entertaining a lot of name options (Chief, Apollo, Fred, Ed, Duncan, Duke, etc.), we decided on his new name: Dozer. As in bulldozer. As in dozes all day (and he DOES!), as in "wow, that's a doozie of the dog!"). It fits him. We've been giving him treats and saying his name to socialize him to it. We've been taking him on walks and teaching him to heal. We've been talking about getting him to the vet to look at his hips and elbows (from laying on a concrete shelter floor). We've been feeding, walking, and teaching the cats to accept him.

And somehow I've gotten past the slobber and the dog stink to the heart of this beautiful, gentle giant. When the other adoptions fell through, I kept telling Champs that we just had to have faith that God knew the desires of his heart and would bring us the right dog at the right time. Dozer may not be a young puppy, and he may need extra support from us sooner rather then later, but he is family now, and we will do what is needed.

Because I love my husband. And when I saw him laying on the floor next to his dog, asleep and content, I fell in love with Dozer. The newest member of our family.


Here are the comments from this post:
Jean-Luc Picard said...
A large dog can'r be easy to look after, yet Dozer seems a very calm, gentle giant, as you say.
NetChick sent me here.

bellamocha said...
Hello, NetChick sent me!!
Your new dog is beautiful...wow! I have been a dog lover and owner all my life and can't imagine being without one. We have a golden lab right now...we thought he was big until I saw yours!
Keep posting the pictures, we'd love to see them! I'm glad that after the previous one fell through, you have brought Dozer home. I wish you much joy with your gentle giant!
Bella :)

David said...
so glad you found such a LARGE love

Maybe a gift card?

My husband used to be so easy to buy gifts for; get him a tool. He loves it. He's happy. I'm happy. End of story.

Until this spring.

I decided to get Champs this really righteous set of steak knives for Father's Day; the perfect accessory to his grill and smoker and the luscious meats that issue forth from them. The only problem is that he intercepted the box at the door and I couldn't think of a suitable lie, so I ended up telling him that they were his present. I warned him that now he wasn't going to get any present at all except maybe a few good steaks to toss on his grill. That was the story anyway; all this had occurred a good month before the big day, so I figured I would try again.

I went back to my tool theory. Champs has been wanting a power washer. Now, this is a substantial purchase, so I decided to get him one that would be for both Father's Day and his birthday, which is on July 7. He was given to searching for models on the web, so I had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. When he printed one out, I figured I had him nabbed. Until the next day, when he was on his way to help his brothers do some work at his Mom's house. That's when he unvieled his plan; he was going to Home Depot to buy a power washer that he agreed to buy with his brother. Yeup; half ownership on his Father's Day/birthday gift. I sighed, handed him a 10% off coupon and wrote a check for our half.

I told him the next day that I had planned to buy him one of his own in about 3 more weeks.

OK... so we're getting close to the big day and I still need to get a gift for my hubby. I mean, yeah, he's got two great gifts already, but I have to have something for him, right? Right.

I went to Walmart and decided on a new DVD player. Ours just up and died in February, which means that every movie we've watched has been shown on a portable DVD player temporarily hooked up to the TV. Yeah, that's the ticket; the movie ticket! I got him a box of raisenettes to go along with it and tossed the machine in the trunk of the car.

When I got home from Walmart, Champs struck again.

He showed me what he had found on PetFinder.com - a beautiful 4 year-old male purebred Great Dane in need of a home. Now, we just bought our home in March and this is the first time since we've been married that we're able to consider buying a dog. I don't think the ink on the deed was dry before Champs started looking for a Great Dane for us. And this boy is perfect. He's house trained, gentle and beautiful. And he's in Indiana. And his adoption fee is $200.00. And we have nothing. at. all. to take care of a dog. No brush, bowls, food, toys, shampoo, dog bed, AnyThing.

Now, I'm happy to get the dog (and all the attendant paraphernalia), in fact, we went out on Sunday afternoon and spent a good $80.00 just picking out starter dog stuff. But it did get me to thinking that he should be Champs' Father's Day and Birthday present. All told, we'll put more into that dog than I would have for the steak knives and the power washer combined. I explained this to Champs and he agreed. The DVD player hasn't been opened yet. We might return it... who knows?

But I wonder if it wouldn't have been easier from the get-go if I hadn't just gotten him a gift card?

Why Didn't I Think of That?!?!

I am a Pampered Chef consultant and April was our Kit Enhancement Month, when we can buy any product at all for 40% off; no limits. Well, of course, I entered my order at 11:55 p.m. on the last day of April. The same day I closed a party, placed a paperwork order, and finalized a number of returns for customers. As you can imagine, I have been getting packages from Pampered Chef every day for the last week.

So this morning when I was in the bathroom, the doorbell rang. Champs went to the door to find that UPS had brought another box. I walked out of the bathroom to find him going through it. He let me know that the pineapple wedger is on back order, but everything else had arrived. The salt & pepper grinder stand was there. The crinkle cutter, the forged steak knife set, the silicone whisk... it was all there. About then, I had a heart attack and said, "NO!!! You're not supposed to open that box!"

Champs looked at me, the forged steak knife set in his hand and asked why. "Because", I informed him, "those knives you're holding are your Father's Day present!" I had intended to put the (extremely nice and pretty darn expensive life-time guaranteed) knives together with a couple of very expensive steaks, some nice smoking wood, and a new BBQ mitt for the Grill Master. Yes, I know he would have wanted to grill them that day, and yes, I know it would be Father's Day and he shouldn't have to grill, but you have to understand. For Champs, this would not be work. This would be a great gift. A wonderful gift which he was currently holding the chief component of in his hands.

Champs has a great sense of humor and says I don't need to get him another Father's Day present. I will, but it won't be as grand as I had originally planned.

So later I was on the phone with my sister who lives in Phoenix. I told her the whole sad story. To which she replied, "well, why didn't you just tell him it was for a customer who asked you to order it special for them?"

Lie? Uh, yeah... I didn't think of that!



Here's the one (enlightening!) comment on this post:
David said...
yes its OK to lie to us about presents, we even like it sometimes

That Rare Day...

A really nice, unexpected thing happened today.

I had lunch with my husband.

A long, unfettered lunch where we laughed and enjoyed pizza, salad and each other's company.

I'm sure this sounds like no thing, but you must understand that in the course of our "normal" lives, this just doesn't happen hardly ever. Champs is a route sales driver and leaves the house around 4:30 a.m. every day, then drives 45 minutes to Bloomington/Normal to complete his route. Then he heads back to Champaign to unload the product he's picked up and reload his van for the next day. Lunch is always on the road and the stopping part of it lasts only long enough to drag out his wallet and pay for it. I, on the other hand, am normally on the phone from 7:00 a.m. to 3:30 each day with a scant half-hour for lunch around 10:45 in the morning. If we go to lunch on the weekend, it is a family affair sandwiched in between errands. You can see that our schedules are more conducive to the occasional phone call rather than lunch.

Today, however, two things were different. First, I am on medical leave. I didn't have to be on the phone nor did I have any appointments to go to, and surprisingly I wasn't filled with the pressing need to frantically clean everything in sight (tomorrow is Saturday, after all). Champs, on the other hand, had made good time and was heading back to our town around 11:45 in the morning. The truck that brings each day's product to load was running late, so Champs decided to take a rare break and stop for a lunch that lasted longer than 5 minutes.

We decided to meet at our favorite local pizza parlor for this unexpected treat. We talked about soccer, coaching, Sweet Girl, customers and who knows what else. To be honest, I barely remember what we talked about and none of it was all that important. What was important is that we ate, talked, laughed and... connected. We sat for more than an hour. No fancy clothes, no high-priced bill, no after-dinner drink and no baby sitter bill, but I have to say that it was a rare day...

And one of the best dates I've been on in ages.

A Wonderful Decade

Ten years ago today was Saturday. I was bored. I didn't have a date and nothing was going on. I was BORED. The internet was a new diversion for me and I was on Excite.com in the chat room, just passing time. I saw an avatar of a foot resting on a soccer ball. Bored but mildly interested, I checked out the profile. It turned out to be a 25 year-old soccer coach who had a philosophy of life quote similar to my own. Now still bored but intrigued, I clicked on the avatar and asked "Soccr101" about his devotion to the game - and started a conversation that lasted on-line for two hours, then one the phone for the next seven hours... and in life for the next ten years.

Yes, I met my Champs 10 years ago today. And every minute since then has been an adventure - a wonderful decade of happiness.

I love you, Champs!


Here are some comments from this post:
Geekwif said...
Awwww. You made me almost a little bit teary. :) Happy 10 years! You gonna go out and celebrate?

kenju said...
Happy Anniversary, BG!

HolyMama! said...
ohhh! how sweet!

Dream Hero

The other morning, I had a dream. Now, I almost never remember my dreams and if I do remember them, it is because I have them just before I wake up. The other morning, I woke up with a rare dream clearly focused in my memory.

For anyone who hasn't read my blog in awhile, it is important to know this: I am currently in Minneapolis for work training to be a brokerage customer service representative. I've been here 5 months and I've seen my husband, Champs, only twice since I left. Soon I will be going home to work virtual for The Big Company. I can't wait to go home.

This was my dream: I was walking in the park I used to play in as a little girl. I was headed toward a clear glass room with a phone in it. I had to go to the room in order to meet up with Champs. I wasn't going to call him on the phone; he was going to be there.

As I walked closer to the room, I noticed tiny little green grasshoppers. I continued to walk and they got thicker and thicker. As I walked toward them, they would fly away in a wave like a glittering curtain. The thousands of insects moved as one, much the same way a flock of birds rise from a tree in flight and swoop off, all in the same direction. Surprisingly, even though I detest insects and I didn't like them flying near me, I was calm and continued to walk toward the glass room in the middle of the park.

As I got closer to the room, the grasshoppers stopped flying away. They weren't green... they turned to red-brown and they were dead. There was a layer 6 or 7 inches deep of the dead bugs. As I walked, my heels came out of my shoes and the dead bugs stuck to me. I couldn't reach the room - the bugs got deeper and harder to walk through. I was beginning to panic and I was near tears.

Just then, Champs strode up behind me, picked me up and said, "kinda gross, huh? Well, I'm here" and then walked me out of the dead grasshoppers, past the flying ones and out of the park. I felt calm and safe again. Just then, my alarm clock went off.

I spent the day wondering what it meant... I know it confirmed that I feel safe with my husband. But he came to me - I didn't go to him, as will happen in real life when I return home. And I never reached the phone. Did it represent my job? Champs took it that it is his job to keep me safe and help me feel safe in situations where I feel trapped. I guess now you know why I call him Champs. He had the nickname before I met him, earned in soccer, but it means so much more than sports to me.

Verrryyy interesting. I must say, though, that I hope I never, ever encounter grasshoppers like that!


Here are some comments from this post:
Jean-Luc Picard said...
I know what you mean; my dreams tend to vanish after a minute.
Michele sent me here.

Sara said...
Thanks for visiting my blog...and I enjoyed this post about your dream...I agree with Champs...I think that is what it means.
Me - I can't ever remember my dreams - but, I do know if they are good ones or nightmares!!!

2:20 PM
Blogger utenzi said...
Michele sent me over to see you, BG. I read your update post below. There's been quite a lot going on in your life since I last visited.
I love finance and had no idea it took so long to train for the brokerage rep position. You have to be quite confident and brave to hold down a position like that at home, without the normal support situation of being in a cubicle farm. I'm impressed with your ambition. I hope you're able to return to home and family very soon!

THE BLUEST BUTTERFLY said...
Michele sent me. I like your blog....unique. I don't usually remember my dreams. The dreams that are premonitions freak me out...even if they are good. My dreams are usually extremely good or extremely bad.

kenju said...
You ought to think about this one often, BG, so you can puzzle it out. What do grasshoppers mean to you?

Blessed or Beaten? Part 1

I'm not sure how to begin this post, in spite of the fact that I've written it in my head at least a hundred times. As I wrote recently, we've been going through a very stressful time - especially as it relates to work (and by extension, money). The last couple of months have felt like we're the stars in some real-life melodrama - but without the huge TV audiences or the big paycheck. Have I mentioned that I don't enjoy melodrama?

Champs was laid off from his second-shift job (we'll call the company AL) in early February, just three weeks after finally qualifying for medical benefits. He began working in the employed-today-and-unemployed-again-tomorrow world of temporary work and collecting unemployment when he was off assignments. 32 Days after being laid off, Champs was called back to AL because they had fired 3 workers. He had no choice but to go back to his old job at AL, even though he hated it and it meant that once again he wouldn't see Sweet Girl. On top of it, because AL called him back on the 32nd day, they would not reinstate his benefits - and we fought them for four days over the issue. It was frustrating that they would make him work another 90 days to qualify for benefits when he had already worked four months for them and completed one round of qualification. Not only that, but when he was laid off, he was an auditor. They brought him back as a forklift driver. Needless to say, all this was very upsetting for Champs - and his wife.

One week after returning to the traitor's employ, Champs hurt his shoulder at work. Thankfully, it was a mild injury, but without any insurance, we are now at the mercy of workman's comp to pay the hospital bill. Interestingly enough, that was the last day Champs worked for them.

Around the time he was called back, he got a call from a company (we'll call it HH)to he had applied months ago asking him to come in for an interview, which he did a couple of days before he hurt himself. The hiring manager liked Champs, but ran into consistent problems trying to get references and background checks from AL. Through the process, the manager assured Champs that he planned to offer him the job - once he got everything he needed from AL.

After Champs hurt his shoulder, he was off work to recuperate for three days. During that time, he sat down and discussed the situation with me. Because he felt certain to the get the new job and because he hated AL with every. fiber. of. his. being, he proposed to quit that job. With my heart in my throat (and a promise from Champs that I could punch him hard, twice, if he didn't get the HH job) I agreed. He called in and explained that he wouldn't be back.

It took 5 more days for Champs' new manager to get what he needed and give Champs an offer - an offer that is about $6.60 less per hour than he used to earn in Minneapolis. On April 4, Champs started his new job. It doesn't pay great, but it is so much better. Champs likes the work and the people. Also on the plus side, this is the first time in our last seven years of marriage that Champs is working a first shift job with no over-the-road travel. Having him home every night is amazing. Also, even though he doesn't get paid much, the benefits and room for advancement are good at HH.

That's Champs' story. Mine will be next. Stop back for chapter two of "The Old and the Dutiful" (or maybe "The Stung and the Reckless").

Daddy's Situation from Sweet Girl's Perspective

Well, if you've read my last few posts, you know that Champs was laid off on Monday. We're into the world of unemployment, on-line job searches and resumes all over town.

The down side is that we have no money.

As a parent, it is easy to see the down side - and forget that there may be an upside.

However, there is Sweet Girl's perspective. See, Champs worked from 3:00 - 11:00 p.m., so Sweet Girl only got to see him for about 20 minutes before and after school each day. When he came home early on Monday, she didn't ask why. We waited until Tuesday evening just before supper to explain to her why Daddy was home at this unusual time. I explained that sometimes, a company has too many workers - more workers than work to do - and so they have to let some of them go so that they no longer work there.

Champs followed along and gave some additional input as I explained that this is what happened to her Daddy. She understood that Champs didn't do anything wrong - it was because of the company, not him. We explained that money will be very tight for our family until Daddy finds a new job - and that we are hoping that this time, when he starts a new job, it will be during the day when she is at school.

Sweet Girl sat quietly through our explanation and then I asked her if she had any questions. She sat silent for a minute, thinking and then asked, "so Daddy will be home when I am home now"? Champs and I nodded. Sweet Girl hopped off her seat, ran into the family room and started dancing, hooting and singing that Daddy was home.

I know she can't see the whole situation, but seeing her perspective reminded us of the Bible's exhortation to thank the Lord at all times. Remember that it says a child will lead them? Well, she did.

Thank You, Lord, for Champs being laid off. Thank You that he can be with his Sweet Girl - and his Blond Girl - for dinner each night. Thank You that he can be here to put her to bed and say her prayers with her. Thank You that we can trust You to care for us. Thank You, in advance, for the perfect daytime job!

And most of all, Thank You for Sweet Girl and her joyful perspective to teach us.


Here are some comments from this post:
Geekwif said...
1. How adorable and sweet is she. I can just see her dancing around the room nearly squealing in delight that her daddy will be home with her.
2. I'm so glad she was able to shine some light on your situation. Like Little B said the other night, this may just be the answer to your prayers by allowing Champs to get the job God has for him.
3. Holy cow Sweet Girl's hair is getting long!!!
4. And have you ever seen such skinny little arms!
5. I miss your girl. I miss you too, but seeing that picture just reminded me of her and how much I miss her.

ShopaholicsDaily said...
What a great way to turn things around. I'm not sure that would have been my first thought, but sometimes you do have to look at the world through a child's eyes!


David said...
praying for God's blessing on your family in this transition

Carmi said...
I am always amazed at children's ability to see the world in simple, honest tones, and to find the good in pretty much anything. You've got one very special little girl there, no doubt because you've both been such great parents to her.
I wish I lived closer so I could actually help. If I can be of virtual assistance, please don't be shy.

Catherine said...
It's strange that Michele sent me to this post, because my husband was laid off last week. And when I went to my part-time job intending to tell my boss that I would have to look for an extra part-time job, or a fulltime one, he offered me extra hours. Before I even asked. Of course, I only get about a third of the pay rate my husband did, as he worked in a highly specialised field for many years. But I have a feeling things will be OK for us, and for you too. Here's hoping for the perfect daytime job for him.

Sarch said...
blond girl you can count on me for prayer support from down here in Alabama. I know this is a difficult time for you, but I know that if you'll keep your faith in God through this it will work out to your good and His glory! You and Champ and Sweet Girl will look back at this at some point and say, "There was a time where the Lord sustained us."
"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Psalm 46:1

Veda said...
Great explanation! Kids are fantastic at finding the up-side to just about anything, and what kid that age doesn't want only to be with Mom and Dad? Great post, Blond Girl!

Mr. Althouse said...
That's really nice, really. Sometimes it takes a child to completely ignore the periphery and remind us of what it's really all about.
Nice!
Michele sent me,

Mike

kenju said...
Blond Girl, you and Champs are definitely seeing the silver lining to the cloud. I hope that he will find a good job soon, one that will continue to allow him to be home with you and Sweet Girl for dinner!

MissMeliss said...
Trust a child to only see the best and brightest bit of a situation. You and yours are in my thoughts and prayers. I'm sure you'll get through this and come out the better for it.

Thumper said...
I'm glad you're able to see the bright side to things. I think I'd be puking up toenails if the Spouse Thingy lost his job... I hope Champs finds something *soon.*


Mike

Momish said...
Oh, its always wonderful to find the bright side to a previously scary and sad situation. And, it is even better when your child leads to you that revelation!
Best of luck to you both. Hang in there and enjoy the unexpected time together as much as possible.

When all is said and done, it comes down to love

Well, it is Valentine's Day - the day of love, hearts, flowers and candy. I've certainly had more celebratory Valentine's Days in my past - more "romantic" or "special". If I had to label this day, I would call it the "year of superglue" Valentine's Day. Because, this year, more than any so far, Champs is glued to my heart.

You see, this has been a very hard last 5 months. If you read my blog, you know that. Well, this week seems to be the topper. On Monday, I contacted the guy who is supposed to be heading up my big new freelancing opportunity and was basically given the brush off, i.e. "you're in our network of valuable writers and we'll call you when we're ready. Until then, leave me alone" type of thing. This has caused me to re-think the freelance thing. I still want to do it, but I will have to get a good full time job and then start the freelancing slower and safer in order for it to work for our family. This was a blow to my emotions, as you can imagine.

Then. later in the day, Champs was laid off from his job. They had to let the 6 newest guys go, regardless of job performance due to business slowdown. Champs' supervisor was sad to see him go, but that didn't stop them from sending him home at 6:00. This was an even bigger blow to my emotions - and Champs', too, of course.

Oh, and then we got the biggest snow storm in recent history on Tuesday morning. 10 inches of snow by5:00 p.m. and they still haven't plowed our street and school is still closed. I got back to work today but stayed home yesterday, mostly to wait out the worst of the snow and to apply for jobs online.

Today, this man I love and who I consider more self-less than anyone I know, braved the snow to go out and apply for jobs and still found the time to snowplow three of our neighbors out of their snowbound driveways. I know it's not flowery, but it is one of the things that makes me love him so much.

So why the glue thing? Well, through all of this, I have marveled at how well Champs and I have treated one another. We aren't given to yelling, calling each other names or otherwise snapping under stress. We tend to pull together and talk things out under the covers. Even though all this stuff is going on, I know he loves me and I love him. Regardless of our employment. Regardless of rent. Regardless of our lack of money. Regardless of my wish for my old "secure" job. Even though I don't know how we're going to pay the rent and the heat and the other bills, I do know that he'll be with me, holding my hand, praying with me, treating me with love and respect and trying for all he is worth to make it work for us.

And that, my friends, is superglue.



Here are some comments from this post:
utenzi said...
That, my dear girl, is what it all comes down to. Sticking together when all that **** outside is trying to tear things apart. You both have something wonderful together, BG.
Happy Valentine's Day, Blond Girl. Even if the times are bad it's good that you can look at one another and realize that you already have all that you need.

9:51 PM
Blogger Ginger said...
What a poignant post. I will definitely be keeping you and Champs in my prayers. You are so blessed to have each other...both in the good and bad times.

10:05 PM
Blogger slf1954 said...
You are both "super". You will make it through this just fine. When one door closes another one opens.

5:11 AM
Blogger GiBee said...
I just can't get out of my mind the scripture that has been carrying me through these past few weeks ... and it really seems to apply here ...
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
But, if you have a chance, and feel so inclined ... check out Jeremiah 29:11-14 ... because it is powerful! In fact, if I have a chance, I'll be blogging about it in the next few days.
In the mean time, I'm going to be lifting "Blond Girl and family" up in my prayers!

9:36 AM
Blogger Carmi said...
Your strength in the face of life's challenges is inspiring to me.
Champs: he'll easily find something even better. Anyone with a work/life ethic like his (looking out for others before taking care of his own needs) will do fine.
Freelancing: I'm learning that a successful career in this space depends on connections with more than one potential source of assignments. That way, when one goes silent, you lean more on the others. That takes time to build, of course, because it's all based on networking and relationship building. But please don't give up because one source has gone temporarily silent. You can do so much more for so many others as long as you view this as a bit of a kick in the rear.
Adversity, as you so well appreciate, breeds ambition and drive. That's very very clear in your case.

Sarch said...
Blond Girl you've got Champs, you've got Sweet Thing and most of all you've got the Lord.
All three will still be there when the unemployment struggles are nothing but a memory.
Keep the faith my friend.

Heather said...
I'm sorry to hear that, Blond Girl. You'll all be in my prayers.

Nine years with Champs

Wednesday morning was a few days ago, but I still must mention it. It marked an important day for me and my family. It was the nine year anniversary of the day Champs and I met.

Nine years ago I was a thirty year-old woman who was quickly becoming frustrated with being alone and following the requirements of everyone around me, so I gave up on trying to find a husband and made some major changes. I threw out my "husband requirements list". I changed clothes, parties and attitude and decided to just have some fun for a change. It was in the midst of this revolution that I met Champs in a on-line chat room quite by accident. You never know what life has in store for you when you quit looking!

In Champs, I found someone beyond special. He didn't have most of the items on my list, but he was everything I've ever wanted or needed. We talked online for a month before we met in person. By the time I met him, I already knew I was in love - I just needed the final face-to-face to make it official. And though I quickly knew he was "the one", it has been the last nine years that have proven time and time again how right I was.

Champs spends quality time with me and Sweet Girl. Every morning for at least 5 minutes we snuggle in bed together talking, laughing and tickling. On Saturdays, this time can extend to an hour or more. Sweet Girl starts each day knowing that her father loves both her and her mother. I believe this is the best gift he can give her. Just the other day she told me that when she grows up and gets married, she is going marry a man like her daddy, who will treat her as nicely as he treats us.

Champs cooks, cleans and cares for Sweet Girl. I know many women who wish their husband would help around the house, but they don't. Or if they do, it is only to man the grill for a party or to watch the kids while Mom is away at a family emergency. Champs, on the other hand, has always believed that a marriage is a partnership in which the husband is just as responsible for the home and children as the wife. While I am responsible for the over-all running of the house, Champs willingly lends a hand whenever I ask - and often when I don't have the time to ask.

Champs is a great romantic. He tells me he loves me every day with words, notes, hugs and snuggles. He refuses to belittle, hurt or tease me in any hurtful way. He's never once called me fat, dumb, lazy or any of the other things other wives have had to endure from their husbands. He tells me I am smart, capable, "cute-n-stuff" and his dream girl. He gives me confidence when I lack it on my own.

Champs is consistent. Our move to IL has been difficult for me emotionally, professionally and financially. I struggle with it daily, wanting to cut and run back to Minneapolis. Champs reminds me of why we made this move and the benefits of being here. He doesn't try to gloss over my fears or pretend that everything is hunky-dory, but he does remind me that this is a journey of faith and trust. He prays with me and encourages me to keep going.

No, he's not perfect. There are some things that drive me crazy; just like there are things about me that drive him crazy (like always being late or constantly needing him to get things down for me that are too high). The point is that he is wonderful for me. And for Sweet Girl. And that nine years ago I met him - and on Wednesday morning, he gave me a poem that he wrote just for me to commemorate the occasion.

I love that man.



Here are some comments from this post:
Carmi said...
What a beautiful entry, BG. Happy anniversary to you both: you certainly sound as if fate has been kind to you.
It's hard to not smile and be inspired after reading this.

Ginger said...
What a sweet post! Happy anniversary of your meeting, to both of you. :)

kenju said...
Congratulations on the anniversary of your meeting Champs. He really sounds like a keeper to me.

Melli said...
Hey there Blond Girl! I just saw you over at Wendy Wings place and I just HAD to stop by to tell you how much I LOOOOOOOOVE your hat! (really... that's what brought me here!)
Happy belated anniversary! I hear more and more of these internet romances - and I gotta say that judging from the FRIENDSHIPS that I have developed on-line, I think it's a great way to meet a fella! ESPECIALLY when you're not lookin! Congrats! To you both!

carli said...
What a nice entry. It sounds like once you decided you were ready for reality over fantasy, you found what you were looking for all along. Congrats.

HolyMama! said...
he gave you a poem that he WROTE JUST FOR YOU....
there must be a husband award for him. a plaque. a medal. that is the sweetest thing next to your writing of this post.
sigh...

Thumper said...
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY! Here's to hoping that in 3 times the length you've been married, you'll still be gushing about him :)

kenju said...
Michele told me to come back, BG and as I reread your post I stopped at the line "Champs is consistent". How important that is in maintaining a relationship - whether just a friend or a mate!

Mr. Althouse said...
That's a nice story. Ok, I'm officially envious. I guess when the time is right, everything will come together.
Michele says, "Happy anniversary."
And so do I,
Mike

Pat said...
Sounds like you have found your true love. It took me many, many years. Dreams can come true

Paul said...
Happy anniversary. Nice post.
You left a delightful comment on my "Don't..." post recently. I consider it a compliment of the highest order. Thank you.

Not 41!

As you know, it was my birthday a week or so ago and I said "this is where you all to tell me that I don't look 41". Paul challenged me to post of a picture of myself not looking 41. Well, I'm not sure how well I did, but here's the best I could get without a full-blown photoshoot or something:



So, if you think I look 41 (or, horrors, older!), then I guess I don't want to hear it. But if I look like a happy mom and at least still somewhere in my 30's, then you can feel free to boost my self-esteem. I guess this shouldn't matter so much to me - but that's what I get for marrying a man 7 years younger than me!

Speaking of marrying a man 7 years younger than me, yesterday was Champs and my eighth wedding anniversary. Looking back over 8 years, I can't get over how much the two of us have been through. We've suffered numerous family deaths, the loss of a baby, six moves (one out of state), too many job changes to count, 3 cornea transplants for John and something like 6 surgeries for me. Yeah, we've been through a lot, but we've also been through as much joy. Our little Sweet Girl and having each other have made all the mountains into small bumps in the path. I can't imagine going through this life with anyone other than my Champs! (yeah, this isn't a great picture of us, but it was our anniversary and it's all I have to offer right now.)



Finally, I got this one from Brony. The mission is to describe 5 weird things about myself. If you want to play along, consider yourself tagged! Here's my list:

1. I have double-jointed elbows. They pretty much freak people out when I demonstrate it.

2. I always count the clothes going into the washer. I never count them going into the dryer, only the washer. I don't know why.

3. I can't wink. My whole face scrunches up and Champs laughs his head off at me. It must be genetic; Sweet Girl has the same "scwink" (a scrunch and a wink) as I do.

4. I almost never cry for real life - I have to be extremely angry to cry. I mean, extremely unbelievably angry (for normal angry, I just get quiet). It's like a wall of safety for me. Instead, I totally cry for sappy movies. I think that's how I release all my pent up emotions.

5. I so NOT photogenic. Just look above - what you see are the best I could choose out of something like 15 tries. I look better in real life; photos usually aren't good at all. Thankfully, Sweet Girl doesn't take after me on that account; she takes great photos (I just don't post them 'cuz I think it's safest not to).

And here are some comments from this post:
utenzi said...
No way you're 41, BG. What kind of trick are you trying to pull here? Maybe 35...maybe.
It sure sounds like you and your family have been through a lot. I don't know why some of us have to go trough harder trials than others, but I guess you have the strength to prevail. I don't know if I could. I hope you have clear sailing from here on out, Blond Girl. Happy belated anniversary to you both!

Geekwif said...
a) SO not 41!
b) CUTE!! That is an adorable picture of the two of you! Happy anniversary!!
c) I've been meaning to do this meme for a while now, only the one I saw was 6 weird things. It's still sitting in my drafts, waiting to be completed and posted.

Paul said...
I know 29 when I see it!!!
Happy Anniversary.
Two good pics!!

HolyMama! said...
hi blond girl! and yeah, i mean GIRL! no where near 41 looking.
i've been afraid to come look for my literary meme tag.... but i'm going to scope it out now....
but BG! I'm not that SMART! Who said i was...?!

Suzy said...
Happy Anniversary and Birthday too! My birthday was a couple weeks ago, and...gasp....I turned 44! Ack!
I think you look awesome and your hubby and you look great together, too! =o)

Brony said...
Thanks so much. Sorry it took me so long to get here. I am working on yours now.
I have double-jointed thumbs, elbows and hips.
I can't whistle.
I think you're photogenic.

Susan said...
You are beautiful! :)

Heather said...
You look great. Happy Birthday. :-)

The Strength to Endure...

Yesterday, GiBee at Kisses of Sunshine related that she had visited Shalee's Diner. Shalee wrote a great post called "I Can Do All Things Through Christ". Shalee shared her month without coffee and challenged the rest of us to share how God has given us the strength to endure through... whatever ... and then to go to her blog and let everyone know we've posted. GiBee took the challenge and talked about her walk through infertility and the enlightenment she received at the end of the path.

Seemed like a good idea to me, so now I am accepting the challenge.

I have so many stories that I could share of God's mercy in helping me do "all things through Him who strengthens me". In hindsight, He got me through a painful, sometimes horrible, childhood without deep scars and with the understanding I need to forgive and, most of all, to not blame God for all that happened (just look at all the people shaking their fist at God because something devastating happened in their lives and you'll understand that this grace was a true gift to me).

I could share a lot of stories, but the one I will share tonight is how He gave me the strength to endure the longest - and possibly most misguided - wait of my life.

When I was a young child, I dreamed of becoming a wife and mother. Although I thought of careers (a journalist, medical examiner, teacher), the only skills I really pursued were cooking, cleaning, sewing and learning to run a house. I did this subconsciously for years and then, in my teens, fully acknowledged to myself that I really wanted, more than anything, to be a wife. At the age of 14, I was a Baptist and a new Christian. Our church held a missionary week event, where our pastor challenged us to get before God and find out what He wanted us to do - to discover our "calling". Now, I am sure he expected most of us to step forward to become a missionary or to serve the church in its missionary support, but I came away with something else. By the end of the week, I was convinced that God planned for me to become a pastor's wife.

No, I don't remember the particulars of that revelation.

Or how I came to the stunning conclusion.

But I knew it had to be a pastor for me.

From that time on, the only guys who I would even allow myself to become attracted to were those who were outgoing, evangelistic and who appeared that they might have "the call" upon them. I rarely dated. Part of this was because I was overweight and dumpy. However, the bigger part was because the guys were too "regular". My heart was reserved for only those guys who acknowledged a call of God on their life. The few times I let my guard down, I was pretty badly hurt and used, so that strengthened my resolve even more. I determined that I wouldn't date any man who wasn't clearly on the path, because every date that didn't lead to a commitment was just "practice for a broken heart".

From the time I was 18, I prayed constantly (ok, I probably whined more than I prayed) that God would bring me my pastor, already. Then something interesting happened. In my early 20's, I was very badly hurt by two pastors at my (independent charismatic, not Baptist) church. The rejection was cunning, complete and devastating. Not so much that I still didn't believe I was to be a pastor's wife, but enough that I no longer felt worthy to be anyone's treasured and respected wife. I was convinced that the man I married would be unfaithful, hurtful and a horrible husband, regardless of his life's calling. Not because he would be so horrible, but because I deserved so little.

But the desire to be married - and a pastor's wife - stayed with me. Kinda like an alcoholic's need for that next drink, I think.

In the aftermath of the season I'd been through, I attended a missionary college. Not to go be a missionary and not to find a husband, but just to refocus on God. While there, I met a guy who clearly had the pastor's call on his life - as well as the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen. I fell hard. He wasn't the one, though, and gave me a lot of flack once he realized how I felt. Even though he so clearly didn't want me, it took me four years to get over him - I was convinced that he was "my pastor" and that God only needed to open his eyes and we'd finally walk down the aisle. Once I got over him, I spent the next couple of years wanting to be married, but fearing most guys and being the "bodyguard" for all my cute friends when we went out.

Finally, I had enough. At the age of 32, I laid it all down. Actually, I threw it down. I might have even been a bit rebellious about it - but I don't think so. I just decided that I could no longer stick to something that I thought I had heard 18 years earlier. I figured that either:

1. I had been right all along and God would bring the pastor in His own time whether I fretted about it or not.
or
2. I was wrong all along and God was just waiting for me to get over my bad self and let Him do His thing.

Guess which one it was?

Yeup. Number two.

Still convinced that I didn't really deserve a good man or a good marriage and deciding that a sheltered heart is just as bad as a broken one, I decided to quit having an agenda and a list of criteria and just have some fun. I spruced up. I went on-line and talked to people. I joined a bulletin board discussion from my local newspaper and went to meet groups of people to discuss beer.

I dated.

Without evaluating the gentleman's "calling".

I even went out with a divorced guy, one or two non-Christians and a bee keeper from Fargo named Arthur (yes, he was a geek). None of them were planning to be pastors. I didn't plan to marry any of them and I did not evaluate their life's work in the course of one evening.

And you know what I found out? Going out on a date - a single night out with a nice man - is a great way to find out that perhaps you are not so unworthy, so ugly and so awful as you thought. For the first time in years, I felt free, pretty and even a bit vivacious. I've always been outgoing, but this was the first time I ever felt that I could just be myself around the opposite sex.

In short, I dropped it all at God's feet and went for a walk.

And one month later, literally, I met Champs.

No, he is NOT a pastor - and he never will be, thank God. But he has a kinder and more unselfish heart than ANY pastor I have ever met. He is quiet where I am loud. He is sweet and strong and faithful. He treats me like a queen and would never betray me as I have seen so many other spouses do. And he has blown to smithereens my old fear that I was doomed to have as abusive a marriage as my parents and as bad as some of the others I had witnessed.

Looking back, I realize that I would have made a horrible wife when I was younger; I had to get past the pain of betrayal and the fear of commitment. So, did God help me endure? You bet He did. And He waited for me to lay down my agenda and let Him get on with His. If I hadn't let go of my own plans and misguided interpretation of His will, I really think that God would not have brought Champs to me when He did, simply because I wouldn't have looked at him and seen what I see now. I would have discounted him, which would have been my own tragedy.

In the long run, I am a better wife for the wait... And I am stronger, too.

So, yes, I can do all things through God who strengthens me... Even lay aside my own misguided tenacity.

(P.S. The reward for waiting? Well, in addition to my wonderful husband, there is also our little 6 year-old pixie, Sweet Girl. That smile of hers is reward enough!)



Here are some comments from this post:
srp said...
What an inspiring post. My brother sang a song in church about Moses. Moses thought he couldn't lead, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything God asked. God told him to take his staff and throw it on the ground. When he did God changed it into a serpent. Moses realized that with God's power behind him, he could do anything. We have to do the same thing.
I believe the last stanza of the song goes something like this:
What do you hold in your hand today?
To what or to whom are you bound?
God waits to show you the way.
Give it up.
Let it go.
Throw it down.

Brony said...
What a wonderful story of growth and discovery.
It is funny, I don't normally write about God or religion, but tonight I to found myself talking about the way God works.
I've never really thought of myself as religious, more spiritual, but the more I listen to myself the more I hear myself say words like blessings or blessed or God has or God did or God is... I think part of it was that I had to stop blaming God and start accepted who I am. See that my illnesses are not a burden, but a gift.

Geekwif said...
Ah, yes, I remember the beekeeper from Fargo. Now there's something to be endured! :)
Great post. Thanks for sharing.

Jeana said...
Wow, you had me completely absorbed. Thanks for writing about this. Excellent, excellent point. "I was wrong."

Shalee said...
I am shaking my head with a slight smile only because I relate so well with coming to God with my agenda. Too often do I present things to God with my strings attached, not really giving God the "authority" to be sovereign over all (including me). You totally nailed it with, "In short, I dropped it all at God's feet and went for a walk." I bet you had the most refreshing, eye-opening, wonderful walk all your life. I'm thrilled that you opened your heart to God's will, saw your worth and let Him mold you into the woman you are today. The added bonus of a precious daughter is like the honey from the honeycomb!
Thank you for sharing one of your stories of when God gave you the strength to endure.

Susan said...
Oh my Gosh....you have no idea (wait, I bet you do) how much this touched me. At the end of your post, it was like DUH, give it to God.
I wish I was there to hug you and tell you thank you for sharing this. I felt like you wrote this just for me! ((((HUGS))))

Women are from Mercury and men are from Pluto

Editor's Note: I am a member of Toastmasters, an international speaking club. I've been in three clubs so far since 1997 and I am working towards the highest designation you can earn, the Distinguished Toastmaster. Currently I am an Advanced Toastmaster - Silver, and I am almost done with my Advanced Toastmaster - Gold. What you are about to read is from an advanced speech I gave today. It is from the Professional Speakers program and is meant to be an entertaining speech. I hope you enjoy it!

John Grey, the famous author of "Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus" made great strides in the male to female relationship realm and much of what he said makes sense. However, I think that, while he got a good start, he got it wrong. Venus and Mars are only two planets apart. If you ask me, he didn't make the chasm wide enough! The truth, my friends, is that women are from Mercury and Men are from Pluto. I have proof. It all comes down to the facts of territory, temperature and time.

When a man marries a woman, they become one. The trouble starts when they try to decide which one. It doesn't take much to figure it out, though - just the powers of observation. I know as I explain this that you will think I am just supporting a stereotype. Maybe I am. You see, stereotypes exist for a reason - because they are true. No one would make joke after joke about Imelda Marcos' shoes if there weren't a gazillion other women out there storing shoes in every unseen corner of the home, relying on her significant other to look at her feet and say "oh, black shoes" instead of differentiating between the black pumps with the bows, the black slingbacks and the black mules.

So, for the next few minutes I would like you to step out of the socially acceptable politically correct mindset and instead, step into my marriage. I am a true Mercurian and my husband the ultimate Plutonian.

When I say that women are from Mercury and Men are from Pluto, my first reason is the temperature of the respective planets. You see, being so close to the sun, the average daytime temperature of Mercury is about 350 degrees. That sounds about perfect to me. If I were on Mercury, I might finally feel warm! I don't know why, but I am always, always cold. I've lost a lot of weight and since that 100 or so pounds went away, it seems that I cannot get warm to save my life. I am always cold; cold to the point that, if the maracas were missing, you could use my chattering teeth to keep time. Actually, I'm so cold, normally, that my husband would tell you that I am devoid of life. He seems to think that I am a cadaver walking around; something akin to a modern day "Stepford Wife". And there is the distinct possibility that he is correct.

I have become a heat-seeking missile of sorts, looking for sources of warmth to which I might attach and leech out the heat. In the summer, when we are lucky enough to have 95 degree days, all my friends are rushing indoors to the air conditioned comfort of the office while I can be found outside, cheerfully warming myself on a rock. I type for a living and I find that if I stay in the air-conditioning too long, I work up a wind chill on my hands.

It's sad, really. The other day Champs and I were at a band tournament. There were stage lights, food prep machines and over 200 bodies all working together to make the club warm. Of course, they had to turn the air conditioning on. While no one else was even aware of it, the vent some 20-odd feet away from me soon had me shivering miserably. I leaned forward and placed my hands on Champ's thighs. I could feel his warmth - but he could feel my cold through the denim of his jeans! He looked at me in shock and even over the loud rock music, I could hear him exclaim, "good god woman, are you even alive?!?" When I get cold, my skin pebbles with goose flesh so badly that I look like a freshly plucked chicken. Just dip me in 11 secret herbs and spices and fry me up.

Please.

Champs, on the other hand, likes it cool. He would flourish on Pluto. The temperature there is about minus 350 degrees. Just think, permanent air conditioning and you don't even need to have a saver's switch installed to keep the cost down. In winter, Champs sleeps in his underwear only, a stark contrast to my full-on flannel. He is like a furnace putting out an extra 1500 BTU's per hour and I am powerless against the lure of free heat. He finally found a way to keep my cold feet off him at night when he bought me an electric blanket and started "pre-heating" my side of the bed each night. It worked, too. See, all winter long when I got into bed, I would luxuriate in the warmth of my 2 foot wide heated "safe zone". I tried to put my feet on the back of his knees, but it meant moving out of the safe zone, so I stayed where I was. Champs still considers it the best money he's ever spent.

There's another reason that I can prove that women are from Mercury and men are from Pluto; it's a matter of territory. Just look at it's name - Mercury is the god of commerce. Um, hello? This is a guy who understands a woman's prime function in life: shopping!

As the second smallest planet, it is the perfect size for shopping, and shopping is definitely part of my territory. I have a world to decorate, people! Now, like I said, I am dealing in stereotypes here, but they are stereotypes into which I fit like a glove.

I suppose there are a few women out there who don't enjoy shopping, but I have never met any of them. Food, clothes, shoes, beads, crafts; it doesn't matter. We all love and need to shop. Champs has figured this out and pretty much leaves me to my own devices. He has learned to give me a list of what he needs and then wait for me to bring it home. It is much less painful for him than going shopping with me. In fact, there are only two places that he will happily accompany me shopping: Cub Foods and Home Depot and that is only because they fit firmly into his territory.

Let's face it, men are all about the food and the tools, and when you can combine the two, you've pretty much reached nirvana. What, you don't believe me? Just watch any man grilling up brats or a steak. He is in his element. He is in his territory. It fits; Pluto is the god of the dead and the ruler of the underworld. Sounds like a dead cow sizzling over flames to me.

Not to mention, Pluto is the name of a famous dog. Doesn't every husband want a dog? Oh yeah, and then there's the spiders. Correct me if I am wrong, but it is every husband's job to kill any and every offensive bug that creeps into his territory, isn't that correct?

Yes it is.

God of the dead, I tell you.

Another thing about this territory issue is the size of the territory. Pluto is the smallest planet and Mercury is a bit larger. This is appropriate. If you look at the average house, it is clear that the woman has the larger territory. The garage? That is Champs' territory all the way - but I have the house and I mean just about all of it. Every closet, no matter whose clothes are hanging in it, is mine. The bathroom is mine. OK, yeah, you've always heard that the bathroom is the man's, but if you really think about it, the toilet is his. Everything else? My territory. Here's how it works: if I clean it or I decorate it, it's mine.

When you look at the territory of men, what one word comes to mind? Tools. Yes, tools. Home Depot is Mecca to my husband. He has a list of power tools that he needs. This is a man who really doesn't want to build anything, he just wants to know that he could be ready to do it at a moment's notice if so inspired. I didn't understand this at first.

I've come a long way in my understanding, however. When Champs first started explaining all the tools he "needed", I couldn't begin to grasp why the man would need 5 saws. A jigsaw, a handsaw, a miter saw, a reciprocating saw and a table saw. Um, isn't a saw supposed to cut? How many ways to cut are there, anyway? But then I got it; it's like shoes! Just like I could not expect one pair of shoes to meet the needs of my cute feet, Champs could not expect one saw to meet his cutting needs. And now we understand one another: I get shoes, he gets tools. The secret for us Mercurian women is to truly understand the pull of the power tool on our Plutonian men.

Case in point: This last Valentine's Day was the first time in our marriage that Champs and I had enough money to actually buy presents for one another. Since he was going to be out of town on the big day, I asked him two days earlier what he wanted to do about the holiday. I expected him to say something like leave Sweet Girl with Grandma and go out to dinner that night. But he pulled the rug out from under me. He said he already had something planned. After a bit of drilling, I found out that he had spent about $100.00 on me and I would get it when he was out of town. Auugh! I had to figure out quickly what to do for him that would equal what he was doing for me - and have it ready by the next night. It had to be loving, meaningful and above all, romantic. I could not think of even one thing that was romantic and would fit the spending limit! I thought of a bracelet I had seen at the jewelers, but I knew that, while I always think jewelry is a good gift, it would not mean much to Champs. If it were Christmas or his birthday or anytime when I didn't have to be romantic, I would have no problem; power tools all the way, man. But this was Valentine's Day! Unless Cupid uses an air-compressed bow and arrow, I couldn't see how tools would be romantic.

I polled all my friends. I was asking one friend on the elevator for her opinion when a man who was couldn't help hearing our conversation spoke up. "Go with the tools", he said. "You can't go wrong with tools". My friend nodded in agreement. Soon I was asking every guy I could find; bracelet or power sander? Without reservation, every guy said how cool a power tool would be. "But that's not romantic!" I would exclaim with dismay. One guy finally cinched it for me:
"Do you love him?"
"Yeah."
"Does he love tools?"
"Well, yeah."
"O.K., then get him what he loves to show him your love."

With a sigh of resignation, I bought Champs a hand held screwdriver and a power palm sander. I wrote on the card "you smooth out my rough edges" (I didn't mention the screwdriver since that pun would have been a little over the top). He loved it! Funny me, I thought the dozen roses he had delivered to my office were pretty romantic, but to him, that was romance. Go figure.

Now, if you still need proof that women are from Mercury and men are from Pluto, all you need to do is consider the element of time. Did you know that a year on Mercury is only 88 days long, but a full day (from sunset to sunrise) takes 176 days? How typical is that, ladies? Your day is ALWAYS longer than your year!

Not only that, but of all nine planets, Pluto is the only one that doesn't orbit around the Sun in an orderly fashion. Pluto orbits the Sun on a different plane than the other eight planets, going over them and below them. While all the other planets are going around in an orderly circle, Pluto has this elliptical orbit, where it goes around the sun in an oval shape so that it can quickly run ahead of its neighbor, Neptune, every hundred years or so and try to get there quicker. Now, I ask you: Won't ask for directions or follow the map and is always trying to get there quicker... Who does that sound like? I'm telling you, men really are from Pluto!

It has been said that too many couples marry for better or for worse but not for good. You can be married for good. All it takes is a true understanding of the unique traits of the man and the woman in the marriage. I mean, women may be from Mercury and Men may be from Pluto, but thank God we are at least in the same solar system!


Here are some comments from this post:
Mom Nancy said...
That's an amazing essay. YOu should send it to a woman's magazine or something!

princssis said...
OK. How in the WORLD do you come up with this stuff? Either you have a very vivid imagination or you do a lot of research before blogging!
I had to laugh about the "Pluto is the god of the dead and the ruler of the underworld. Sounds like a dead cow sizzling over flames to me." However, I have to disagree with you about the spiders. I am the spider killer in our household! Who would've thought a 6 foot tall man would shudder when a spider is in sight and call for his wife to kill it!? Ahem. HERE!

kenju said...
I have decided that men will not ever understand women in the same way that women understand men. Mine wouldn't know a tool if it bit him, so that doesn't work as a gift in our family....LOL

Geekwif said...
You're too too funny. Good speech. I hope your fellow TMers loved it.

Shannin said...
Very, very funny... I may have to print this out for my husband, although he's not a tool guy (deathly afraid of anything that has to be plugged in - some deep, dark trauma from his childhood I think).

Guppyman said...
Tools are ALWAYS good. And you should have gone with the screwdriver pun.... that's always good too.
Oh, and by the way... I actually use my garage full of tools.... Most women I see NEVER wear half the shoes they own.

princssis said...
Oh, I see you added the editor's note! That 'splains all the "research". You changed it a little, too, didn't you?
It's still very good!

Blond Girl said...
Very observant, Princssis; not on the "editor's note" - that's pretty big, but on the other changes. Yes, I added some things from the actual speech that got some good laughs as well as edited out some little problems that I created by cutting and pasting from Word.
I'm so glad you liked it! Now I just need to get my butt in gear and write another post....

We Scare Me

Not long after Champs and I were married we found, like most couples, that we tend to think alike. It wasn't long before we were finishing one another's sentences. Before much longer, we were thinking of the same thing at the same time - things like Champs saying "you know, it's been awhile - we should go to Chevy's for dinner" at the same time I was thinking that going downtown for a mess of fajitas sounded like a good idea.

I think it was about a year into our marriage when I first said "We scare me". When we think of the same thing at the same time, we scare me.

Tonight we SO scared me.

First, the background: In January Champs and I bought two MP3 players which were, to put it mildly, pieces of crap sold by Samsung. We returned mine, but before we could return his, Champs accidentally dropped it from about 12 inches above the ground. The face cracked. This was four days after we purchased it. Best Buy couldn't take it back because it was "customer damaged". I called Samsung who refused to make good on their product. I explained (ad nauseum, to whomever I got on the phone) that an item made to be portable needed to be of higher quality. I can't tell you how many times I've accidentally dropped my Kyocera cell phone or my Palm Pilot - and they have emerged unscathed. As I explained to the Customer Service Manager, if the company makes a product that breaks that easily and the company will not support the repair or replacement of that item, what am I to assume but that they produce crappy products and they know it?

All to no avail. We still have the damaged Samsung player and no satisfaction from the company. As far as we are concerned, all Samsung products are crap and we will NEVER purchase anything made by that company again.

Fast forward to tonight. A cell phone commercial came on with two guys bragging about all their phones could do. Live TV, text messaging, video and theft deterrent. The "theft deterrent" came in when one guy threw his phone at the other guy.

Then the commercial broke to the product. It was a Samsung cell phone. Champs and I started laughing and had this conversation:
Champs: "That wouldn't stop a thief!"
Me: "Yeah, it would break the first time. Well, it is a theft deterrent, actually."
Champs (laughing) "Yeah, it's a Samsung. No one's going to steal it!"

Then he pretended to be a thief taking a phone and looking at it and pretending to return it to his victim: "Oh, man, I'm sorry. You can have your phone back. This is a Samsung. Here you go!"

And this is where we scare me: Champs and I then said, in almost exact candence: "In fact, man, here's another phone." (meaning that the thief would feel so sorry for anyone having a Samsung phone that he would give the guy one of the others he had stolen). Then we both looked at each other and busted out laughing. The same thought, the same moment.

We SO scare me!

(I hope you can picture it - it really was a funny moment, but it's a little hard to describe it without facial expressions and vocal intonation...)

About a year ago I apologized to a friend for rescheduling the second time. I explained that I was just so busy I was juggling everything. She basically told me she didn't care how busy I was; I was copping out by playing the busy card.

It caught me up short.

Since then I've tried to not make "I'm busy" an excuse. And for the most part it has worked. The only problem is that I am now trying to cram even more stuff - work, time with the hubby, time with the Sweet Girl, appointments, friends, ideas, housework, move planning, free-lance work for others, worship team, etc., etc., etc. into the same about of time. I heard once that if you want something done, ask the busy person to do it, since that person is likely to find a way to do it.

I seem to be that person.

One unfortunate side effect of all this busy-ness is that my blogging has been suffering. While I think there are people who would read my blog faithfully if I wrote in it faithfully, I am pretty sure I've alienated them all. Sigh.

I'm not sure, short of cloning, what the answer is. I do know that I will be glad when we have moved to Another State and gotten everything settled. I am finding that this big of a move affects everything. Absolutely every aspect of my life is in flux right now.

Speaking of the move and being in flux, here is something you can pray with me about, if you will.

There are two reasons are family has not yet moved to Another State, although we've been officially planning the move for almost a year now. The first reason is that Sweet Girl is still in kindergarten and we didn't want to uproot her in the middle of a school year. That alone put our move out to summer.

The second reason is more complicated. Champs had a corneal transplant in his right eye on April 27, 2005. In order to move, we need to have his eye in good health and, preferably, with a special contact fitted for him. Well, he has been fighting rejection in that cornea since the beginning. That eye is the last piece to fall in place for us to move.

We just met with Champ's eye specialist on Friday. The last time he was in a couple of months ago, the doctor said the rejection was still there, but weakening. We were hoping for a good report when we went in this time, but it wasn't what we were hoping for. As it turns out, this cornea is still rejecting. However, it is only about a 30% rejection and is focally-located, meaning it is a very small, specific area of rejection. The doctor explained that this is unusual. He has seen it before and it can still be quelled. Essentially, Champs has too good of an immune system; you can't pull the wool over his eyes (no, that pun was not intended, really!)

So, we know that he won't have a special contact fitted before we leave. The question now is, can we quell the rejection so we can leave? The doctor gave Champs another cortisone shot beneath his eye (ouch!) to hopefully stop the localized swelling. He is also sending Champs to his internal medicine doctor for a new treatment; a type of anti-rejection medication used on other types of transplant patients. It has to be monitored carefully with liver tests and, apparently, is very expensive. This makes me worry about the cost of medicine after we move. Who knows what our insurance situation will be? Some jobs will insure a worker immediately, while others will make you wait six months or a year.

Yeah, I'm treading water - in more ways than one!

When Irish Eyes are Smilin'...

There is probably good food around! 2 Cases in point:

1. Irish fast food. In spite of being half Irish, Champs is not a fan of the traditional boiled corned beef and cabbage dinner. He is fond of corned beef, however. So, I did what any American Irish wife would do: I made him an Irish fast food dinner of roasted potato and onion wedges (roast with a little olive oil, kosher salt, sliced garlic and thyme and you got the best potatoes), grilled Reuben sandwiches and Harp beer. Yeup, that was our St. Patrick's Day feast and everyone seemed to think it was appropriate.

2. The promise of yummy slow food. For Christmas this year, I gave Champs a small smoker. He was thrilled at the idea, but the actual unit didn't work that well and wasn't up to his standards. He returned the smoker and added to that money the gift cards he received as another Christmas presents, giving him $100.00 to choose a new smoker.

Problem: the model he wanted was $100.00 - and $55.00 S/H. The wonderful folk at Home Depot, however, pointed out that they could order in a larger smoker from a neighboring store. They described the next model up: 738 square inches (not feet, as Geekwif so accuratly pointed out) of cooking surface for $159.00 - with no S/H. Now, we've been working hard on debt reduction, etc and money is tight. However, I crunched the numbers and we figured that we would rather add $59.00 to the total and have it pay for smoker instead of shipping. We ordered it in and Champs got it on Thursday - a brand new Charbroil Silver Smoker with offset firebox. I told him "Merry Christmas and Happy Father's Day, Honey. This is it for awhile." He doesn't mind. He got it put together right away and let me tell you, this baby is HUGE! It's 4 feet, 4 inches long and can smoke something like 3 or 4 turkeys at once.

Champs' Irish eyes haven't stopped smiling - and we're having smoked pork loin for dinner tomorrow!

Here's a picture of his new baby... I know all you grill aficionados are drooling now, aren't you?





Here's some comments from this post:
Karen said...
Your Irish fast food sounds yummy.

Michael said...
Yea, we're drooling all right. Three or four turkeys! That would last a while. Should I be booking my flight for Thanksgiving??

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...
WOW! That's quite a piece of equipment! I bet your husband is a happy camper, yes? I am not a big fan of "smoker' cooked food, but this looks incredible!

Geekwif said...
Um, yeah, so when are the Geek and I coming over for dinner?
BTW, 738 sq ft is bigger than my first apartment. I'm thinking you meant sq in? My apartment was pretty small, but seriously, you could grill a lot more than 3 turkeys in that amount of space! ;)
Enjoy that new grill. With Champs having a new toy, you might not have to cook all summer! Of course, knowing you, you wouldn't be happy if you couldn't work in the kitchen sometimes.

Shannin said...
That looks awesome! I like to smoke, but haven't since we got the gas grill here to replace the Weber charcoal grill we had in LA. I think about investing in a stove-top one since it's just the two of us...
I like your Irish fast food. I ended up doing ribeye steaks, coleslaw (I hate cooked cabbage) and roasted red potatoes. Close enough...

Suzy said...
I'm droolin' over here!
Hey, how's it goin' down there in southern Illinois? I need to read up on your blog to catch up on things with you and the family. I haven't felt the best, so I haven't been reading blogs lately. I'm sorry!
Make sure you tell your family member about that CellCept that I've been prescribed! It's really starting to help!

Paul said...
We're far from Irish, but I always like this time of year cuz corned beef brisket are always on sale. I got the two best one in the store this year. Already ate one. It was pretty good.
That smoker looks like a side of beef will fit into it. And a side of venison. A large shank of pork. Lots of lamb...
Have fun.

David said...
your story is what is beautiful, your working together and planning, reasoning. waiting.
the smoker is a thing, a fabulous thing. the relationship you are building is a treasure
what a great post.
i have the cheapo smoker

Express? You Bet!

I'll post more tomorrow, but I wanted to give everyone a quick check in since you've been so supportive. And believe me, every single kind and encouraging word and prayer have been heard and appreciated!

Well, on Friday I asked Champs to call Express, the temp / job placement agency I work for, to request an interview. He agreed and called them on Monday afternoon. He was granted an interview Tuesday morning.

On Tuesday, he went in and, as is usual, impressed the gal with his work ethic and commitment to customer service. She promised to call him soon with an opportunity. She called him before he got home! At 1:00, he went to a large-format printing company for an interview and started a temp assignment there today. If he likes it, it will go to a "temp-to-hire" in three months.

After that, at 5:00, he went for an interview with a respiratory-therapy company and he has to return a call for another possible interview.

The doors are opening. We are beyond grateful. And Sweet Girl? Well, when her daddy came home for dinner and put her to bed, well, let's just say that joyful smiles like that are what inspire flowers to grow...


Here's some comments from this post:
kenju said...
WONDERFUL! It is so nice to hear you sounding hopeful, and the benefits to the family are great!

Carmi said...
I believe in my heart of hearts that good people are ultimately rewarded. Your husband is receiving such recognition from the job market because it's his nature to go above and beyond. What's extraordinary to to others - work ethic, commitment to customer service, family commitment - is par for the course for him.
Solid backbone and fundamental goodness go a long way in life. This week proved it, and I couldn't be happier for you all. You deserve happiness. Sweet Girl deserves to continue to have so many reasons to smile.
This entry couldn't have come at a better time, BG. It's been a tough week. Thank you so much for your kind words on my blog earlier today.

Paul said...
All Right!!! You da man!!!