The Married Life: Anniversaries

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Blair and I don't exchange gifts for birthdays, anniversary, or Christmas. We never have. It's not for a lack of love. It's just that, frankly, if I want a sweater or a bottle of perfume, I'll go out and buy it and likewise for him. We count the trips and vacations that we take as our "gift" to each other for the year. 

We do exchange cards though. In fact, the first three years of our marriage, we gave each other the exact same card. The first time it happened, we laughed. The second time was like, "Wow, what are the chances?" And year 3, we were like, "C'mon... c'mon..."

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The Married Life: Real Men Don't Cry (Much)

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This week Blair and I were watching The Biggest Loser and they were showing the contestants call home. What can I say? Grown men reduced to tears the minute they hear the sound of their children's voices gets to me. I'm sitting on the couch, wiping away the tears, when Blair glances over at me.

"Please tell me you're not crying over this," he said.

"You have no heart," I said, followed by several loud sniffs. "Anyone who can watch this and not shed a tear is a cold, cold person."

The Island of Misfit Toys"Now, that's not true," said Blair. "You know I tear up every time I watch the Island of Misfit Toys." 

It's true. He does. Kind of makes me laugh.

Cheers,

Dena

The Married Life: Nagging = Easy Home Self-Improvement

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Am I a nag? 

Do I nag too much?

Can nagging ever be a good thing? Suppose, for example, one nagged to help one's partner improve themselves, thereby living a happier, more meaningful existence. Or that one nagged in a subtle attempt to influence the behavior of another. Or, that one nagged because I'VE TOLD BLAIR SOMETHING 500 TIMES AND IT DOESN'T SEEM TO BE SINKING IN SO MAYBE IF I SAY IT ANOTHER 500 TIMES IT WILL TAKE. 

Whew! That felt good.

Okay, I'll admit it. I nag. Which is worrisome, as I read a study recently that said...

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The Married Life: Bowling Night

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Many moons ago, when Blair was courting me, he took me bowling. Nothing quite says romance like pulling on rented shoes and bending over to heave a ball so your date can see just how big your ass really is. 

The date would mark Blair's first glimpse into the true nature of my personality. I'd been on "good date" behavior until then, laughing at all jokes, smiling beguiling, and surreptitiously applying lip gloss whenever his back was turned in the hopes he would think my lips were just naturally luminescent. But we'd been out a few times and it was time to take off the kid gloves.

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