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Marriage and Relationships

how to save your marriage, marriage, communicating in marriage, marriage counseling

Marriage is not always easy. Most of the time it’s hard. But where there is true and deep love, I think it’s worth fighting for with everything you’ve got. This is how to save your marriage by having the hard conversations, the uncomfortable ones that might leave you yelling, in tears or second-guessing your entire relationship but its better than the cold silence of not caring at all.

There is no guidebook that they hand out as a wedding gift called How to save your marriage. That would be a little dismal to say the least. But maybe there should be. Maybe they should just change the title and give that book to every single person even considering getting married.

What do you do when you’re in love with your spouse and they are crazy about you but you disagree on one thing? Sounds simple, right? You get over it or you compromise. You work through it. But sometimes the “thing” is so huge that getting over it is impossible. Parenthood is that topic.

READ ALSO: How Scrambled Eggs Made my Marriage Sexy

Full disclosure, I had been ready to get pregnant since our first wedding anniversary but the Big Guy was really enjoying our time as a married couple. I come from a big family so wanting to be a mom was a given for me. He comes from a small family and, to tell the truth, I think he was lukewarm to the idea of little people. By about year three, I could feel my biological clock ticking. My brother had kids and I wanted babies too. Still, the Big Guy was slightly above lukewarm.

I was starting to panic. Not about having babies at that moment but whether or not he wanted to have them ever. That was a real problem for me because some hard decisions were going to have to be made. I knew I wanted children. Full stop. I also knew that if he didn’t, that’s not something that you can force someone into. What if I couldn’t live without being a mother and he couldn’t live with being a father? Was I going to have to divorce the man I was completely in love with and who loved me more than anyone else ever had? I was hiding from my own reality because I didn’t want to face it.

One day during year four, I just broke down and had the hard discussion, laid it all out on the table. Never have I been so afraid to tell anyone anything in my entire life because it really was a life-changing conversation. I didn’t make any threats. It wasn’t an ultimatum. But we had to face the obvious and have the conversation, I wanted to be the mother of his children. That wasn’t negotiable and I wasn’t going to change my mind. I knew I would feel like something was missing if I just gave up on that dream. I also told him that there was no way that I would ever ask him to be a father if he didn’t want it 100% because then he’d be miserable and we’d all suffer.

My brain knew that the only option if we couldn’t come to an agreement that we were both comfortable with, was divorce. Divorcing someone who you love and loves you back in a world where it is so hard to find that sounds ridiculous, I know, but what are your options when you can’t agree on something so huge? We had the talk and got it all out in the open. We both cried because it was hard and afterward, we laid in each other’s arms emotionally exhausted 20 somethings wishing it would all just not be an issue. But we both knew the problem wasn’t going anywhere.

READ ALSO: How to Train a Husband

It wasn’t that he adamantly didn’t want children. It was that he had never had an opinion one way or the other and his partner in the previous long-term relationship prior to me was adamant that she did not want children…ever. So he had reconciled himself to the fact that he would never be a father. Then he fell in love and married a Catholic, Mexican from a family of 8.

After a couple weeks, we don’t take the heavy questions lightly, he told me that after thinking about it for a while, he was prepared to plan to plan to have a baby. He wasn’t ready right that moment at 27 to become a father but babies were definitely on the table. We were both relieved and finally, on the same page. Then, a New Orleans long weekend away to celebrate our anniversary changed everything.

I won’t lie, I still wasn’t sure that he was 100% onboard but I could see him warming up to the idea. He started spending more time with our nieces and nephews and I could see a shift from holding a baby like it was a tiny bomb to cuddling the baby and smiling, feeling the joy that all newborns in your arm bring. We had time. But it had to be discussed.

So if you want to know how to save your marriage, this is my advice.

My point is that hard discussions have to be had for there to be honesty and trust in a marriage. You can’t avoid the hard things. They have to be faced head-on, together. These are the moments that make or break a marriage. If you cannot discuss things on your own then seek for help such as attending marriage therapy.

You’re probably wondering, why didn’t these 2 discuss their position on babies before getting married? Fair question. The only answer I have for you; we were in college when we got engaged after 4 months of dating. Our heads were not in charge of the situation. It was all heart. We were young and very much in love. I think we were both just taking it for granted that the other person wanted what we wanted. We hadn’t known each other long enough to know how different our experiences growing up were.

I’ve learned from my mistakes though. I’ll make sure that my girls have these conversations before they are married to their best friend and 4 years deep into building a life together. We were lucky it worked out. More than lucky, we are blessed that we were willing to face it together and talk it out and figure out together what we wanted out of our marriage.

What’s the biggest marriage challenge that you’ve faced as a couple?

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love is, Difference between Love, like and Infatuation

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to explain sex to my girls but what about how to know the difference between love, like and infatuation? It’s actually a very important discussion to have with your kids but how many parents actually have it? I’ve decided that honesty is the best thing to do. I want open dialogues with them about everything.

How many times have you been in love? Like really in love. I thought I was “in love” about 3 times before I actually was. You see, the problem was that I didn’t know what real love was so I kept thinking I was in love but really it was a crush, infatuation, and love but not true, unconditional, forever love. But each time it felt like “love” until I pulled my head out of the love fog and could see it for what it really was.

There was lots of casual dating but each “love” was necessary for the learning curve. If I hadn’t experienced each time I thought I was “in love” I wouldn’t have had any barometer by which to measure when the real thing happened.

Don’t get me wrong, they all had their purpose and I wouldn’t trade any of the experience. Our experiences make us into who we are and if it weren’t for all of those false love alarms, I never would have known when I stumbled backwards into a really good guy and a healthy relationship.

What is the Difference between Love, Like and Infatuation?

Remember when you were in high school, maybe even college, and you fell in love and it was all consuming and insatiable? It was all you could think about and all you cared about. Anytime day or night, all you wanted was to be with that other person. You would have crawled inside of that person and lived if it were possible. Making love was truly an other worldly experience. You could not satisfy your craving for that person.

Remember those days when you were so in love that it hurt your stomach? When seeing that person was the most important part of your day? Remember thinking to yourself, or maybe even saying it out loud, I would die for you? And you meant it. If someone walked into the room and it came down to you and him, you would surely jump in front of that bullet because you loved him so hard that if he died life wouldn’t be worth living any ways, so why not sacrifice your life for his?

Were we stupid? Or was our baby brains just too consumed and overwhelmed by feeling love for someone other than our parents and complicated by all of those hormones that we just couldn’t process it? We knew our parents loved us and they would take a bullet for us so isn’t it logical that we take a bullet for the person who we love beyond all reason and comprehension? I used to think so.

I was one of “those” girls. I loved being in love. I loved loving someone and I loved the thought of someone loving me. Someone wanting me. Wanting to possess me. Someone not being able to live without me. It thrilled me. I believed that was the measure of true love. Someone willing to die for me. Anything less was bullshit. But as most teenagers, I was delusional. I saw undying devotion in the simplest of tasks. He pulled the chair out for me and cupped my face when he kissed me. He must love me. He surprised me with a single rose and my favorite candy at the drive-in, this must be “IT”. Wow, it’s easy to believe bullshit when you’ve never had the real thing, isn’t it?

Anyways, that passion was electric. It was the kind of “love” that had you feeling manic all the time. Coming from an actual person diagnosed with bipolar, that is saying something. I lived in that high to the exclusion of all else. Nothing else mattered and that was the measure of “real love” to me, for a very long time. I thought if it wasn’t all consuming and in crisis and threatened, it couldn’t be the real thing because the real thing was messy and it f*cked you both up beyond all recognition because that passion fire burns hot and high and hard, all.the.time. What I didn’t realize it that it burns out and leaves you both in a pile of ashes. If it was really  intense, it could almost kill you both. But, adult me realizes that is crazy. I don’t want love that kills me. That’s poison.

I learned to live on that high. I craved it as much as I craved love. Then I fell in real love and I realized what I was doing up until then, was accepting what I had been taught to believe was love from the dysfunctional example of my parents and from movies. I believed that for it to be “love” it had to be “go hard or go home” at all times because love is work and if you love someone, you have to be willing to love them so hard that it might kill them and you have to be willing to die for them. I was a child and when you are a child, the world works in absolutes but as I grew up, I realized that real love doesn’t live in absolutes. It thrives in the grey area.

How important is it to distinguish the difference between love, like and infatuation?

For me, it wasn’t about dying for someone or killing for them. It was about being willing to live for them. Not in the “everything I do is for you” way like in all of those sappy love songs that we swoon over when we are kids. I mean in the “I love you so much that I want as many days on this earth as I can get with you” way.  As a mother, it’s important to tell your precious daughters about dating guys so they can have a wonderful relationship.

In the way that makes the stupid things you’re doing fall away and life get clear. When I met my husband, I was a hot mess, in every sense of the word. I wasn’t even living my own life. I was living other people’s expectations and I was basing my happiness on someone else. Then I met the Big Guy. He put me first (maybe for the first time I had ever been first in my life) and my thinking shifted. I no longer had to be on the defensive. I didn’t have to be the aggressor. I just had to be me.

Suddenly, I didn’t want to throw up every morsel of food that went into my mouth. I wanted to live and my 10-year slow suicide by anorexia plan wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to live and I didn’t want him to know just how dysfunctional I really was. So, I started working towards getting better. I got help.

He saw the messed up ugly side of me almost immediately. I was an undiagnosed manic bipolar, anorexic with body dysmorphia and a self-medicating drinking problem. I was fun, then I was raging, mean and completely irrational. It was pretty hard to hide from anyone who was paying attention.

I had developed a bad habit of pushing anyone who wanted to get close to me away. I had long passed the wanting to crawl inside of someone phase. I was selfish and borderline and convinced that I was unlovable because up to that point, I had done everything right and none of it ever worked. I never passed quality control. I gave up and resigned myself to being detached. I basked in the position of being wanted, even if it was all surface.

Then the Big Guy came along and while his initial intention was to purely to hook up. We ended up talking all night after a couple ghosting friends left me stranded at a party at his house. Somewhere between our first disinterested meeting and that next morning, we connected on a cellular level without even trying. In that moment, we became each other’s person.

It wasn’t love at first sight. I don’t even think we were each other’s types. We would have never even have met one another other than a new friend I had met in my LSAT class who happened to grow up with this tall, gangly alt guy with black fingernails and a heart only rivaled by the size of his smile. It took a couple more weeks before we worked out the kinks. Falling head over heels doesn’t feel like what you expect it to. It sort of sneaks up on you and you suddenly realize that this person gives you hope and loves you unconditionally, through the ugly and the hard and the messy and the complicated and they never think of leaving because it’s not an option that even enters their mind or yours. You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning. , kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.

You realize that you can’t imagine a life that doesn’t include seeing this person’s face every morning, kissing them before bed each night, seeing them in the faces of your children. That is love. It’s a light that never goes out because you don’t let it. You both work at it. You keep it alive, even when it’s sick and sad. You love it back to life.

Maybe real true love isn’t what they write about in the story books or songs. Maybe it is sometimes. I want my girls to know that love can look like a million different things. What’s important is how it makes you feel when you’re with that person. It isn’t big and bold, though sometimes it is, it’s also quiet and steady and safe. It’s feeling happy just being still and not needing an escape plan or contingency plan. It’s not about being willing to die for someone, it’s being willing to work your ass off to live as long as humanly possible to share every day with your best friend.

The person you love as much as you love yourself. The person who gave you the children who you would take the bullet for because it’s the legacy of your love; the thing the 2 of you created. Real love is the kind that makes you want to risk everything to make the world better than you left it because it’s what he deserves. That’s love.

The real difference between love, like and infatuation is that when you find real love…that person can satisfy all of those things; love, like and lust.

How will you teach your kids to know the difference between love, like and infatuation?

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how to explain where babies come from, where babies come from, having the talk with children, explaining sex, how to feel sexy after having a baby, new mom, marriage, pregnancy. feeling sexy after baby, vaginal dryness

Have you had “the talk” with your children yet? At what age did you decide it was time to have that conversation? It’s a big milestone in motherhood and childhood. Admittedly, it’s awkward and weird explaining to your baby where babies come from but if you don’t do it, someone else will or they’ll figure it out as it’s happening, probably too soon with someone who just wants to have sex.

I consider myself a little bit crunchy. I always have. I’ve always been a free thinker; open-minded, the spread love and equality sort. I love the earth and I think at the root, most people are good. I wear patchouli so that’s confirmation, right?

But the other day when I told the Big Guy that I thought we’re pretty hippie in our parenting ideology, he gave me the blank stare. I get it, I’ve been known to hover. But then it hit me, yes, hell yes… I have problems physically letting go of my children but I’m getting better but it’s not about me, it’s about them, this parenting thing.

I’ve always encouraged my girls to be free-range thinkers. I talk to them like people and we have open dialogues about anything they want to talk about from sex to politics and even such controversial topics as which is better…unicorns or mermaids. The point is everything we say and don’t say to our children counts.

I’m sure some people think I’m too free with my girls but I want to raise educated women who can think for themselves, no approval needed, from anyone. Radical concept, right?

My daughters are no longer toddlers. My oldest just turned 12-years-old and my youngest daughter just turned 10-years-old. Things are changing at a furiously fast pace, as they do during childhood. The tween and teen years are a whole different set of firsts.

I’ve been trying to do my due diligence as a tween mom, though. We’ve been discussing birth control and healthy/unhealthy relationships for a while now. Puberty and where babies come from became topics of discussion during preschool and I’ve just been elaborating and filling in the gaps ever since. The older you get, the more you know.

I’ve always told my children the facts as they’ve asked and let one moment lead to the next teachable moment. In fact, once the puberty conversation was done and elaborated upon and extrapolated into infinity, then we moved on to sex (for the 12-year-old). Though it was just the basics about sex, the mechanics of basic insert, ejaculate and consummate sex, she knows how babies happen.

Explaining where babies come from to your child but not birth control is not enough.

We need to explain everything. Turning children loose into the world with just that tiny amount of information is like giving a kid a loaded gun, teaching them how to shoot but not explaining that they could kill someone.

That’s why I’ve also touched on the healthy/unhealthy relationship conversation. I’ve explained that sex between two people who love each other and are mature enough to handle all of the possible outcomes is a beautiful thing. But, I’ve also explained the hard fact that just because you have sex with someone, that doesn’t always mean they love you. It could just mean that they like having sex with you and that’s okay if that’s all you both want.

I don’t want my girls to expect love in exchange for sex because that is not how it works. I think they should be prepared for that. I want them to decide when, where, why and how sex happens for them. I don’t want it to be something they do under pressure or out of some sort of expectation or obligation. You can’t put a timeline on when you are ready. You know because you know yourself better than anyone else.

My girls know where babies come from, how they get there, how they are born and (in theory) what a big responsibility babies are once they are born. Of course, I don’t think anyone fully understands that last one until the baby is in your arms.

My girls are young but they know what birth control is and that it is a woman’s right to choose; who she loves, who/when/if she has sex with and if/when she will become a mother because we are the masters of our own bodies but they also know that we must respect ourselves and our bodies.

We’ve been having the conversations about their bodies since they were toddlers. I’ve taught them that their bodies are beautiful and wonderful. I’m teaching them that sex is not shameful or bad. It’s beautiful and wonderful and babies are miracles. But I want them to know that the sex doesn’t have to mean a baby and babies shouldn’t happen until you are mature enough and ready to start a family.

Becoming pregnant shouldn’t feel like a punishment for doing something that is so natural. A baby should be something you want and try for. A baby should come from love and intention, not on accident. The only way any of this happens is if we have those awkward, uncomfortable conversations with our kids so that they can become free-range thinkers and decide for themselves.

I love the videos by Amaze.org because they are made for 10 to 14-year-olds. It’s not pornographic or above their head. AMAZE  is a collaboration between 3 expert organizations in the field of sex education: Advocates for Youth, Answer, and Youth Tech Health. They produce engaging sex education videos that cover the “mechanics” (e.g., puberty) and also more complex topics (relationships, gender identity, consent, etc.). AMAZE wants to help empower parents to be the primary sexuality educators of their kids – the goal of the videos is to inform and spark a conversation. I’m using the videos as a tool to add visual explanation and levity to an otherwise serious conversation.

If you’d like access to these tools to help you explain puberty, sex, where babies come from, contraception and much more like the @AMAZEparents Facebook page (which includes video shares as well as fantastic curated content related to sex ed, health, etc.) because the more information we have the less weird these very important conversations have to be.

How did you or do you plan to explain where babies come from to your child?

Disclosure: This is a sponsored collaboration with Amaze.org but all opinions about how to explain where babies come from are my own.

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Netflix, cheater, cheating, binge-worthy shows

Are you a cheater? Have you ever told the person that you love the most a lie to satisfy your own id? I think most of us have, right? At first you think, who’s it going to hurt. Don’t ask; don’t tell. More like take the junk to the grave. If you’re going to cheat, the least you can do is keep it to yourself. Telling your partner that you’ve cheated is not going to help them at all. You did the crime, now do the time. Live with your guilt.

You see, this is why the Big Guy and I can’t ever do the Netflix and chill thing. He is all about the chill part but not about the Netflix binge part. I’m a closer. I like to pick my show and then binge it to the end. I am nothing if not committed to finishing my shows. So sometimes, I have to cheat.

He knows I do it. We don’t discuss it. It’s not a big deal. We are open about it. I am just not built to be a once-in-awhile show watcher. We’ve actually just given up trying because it’s just too frustrating and someone always gets hurt so we’ve decided it’s just easier if he does him and I do me.

Netflix, cheater, cheating, binge-worthy shows

For example, we started watching One Day at a Time Together but he likes to savor the moments and draw out the season. I am more of a wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am! Kind of a gal so he falls asleep and I watch until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. Needless to say, I finished the series in a weekend and he still hasn’t caught up. It really was THAT good.

Then there was A Series of Unfortunate Events that we just couldn’t agree on a time to watch it so I watched it with the girls and he watched it while we were at ballet. We all agreed that the show was definitely cheat worthy because we all loved it.

Netflix, cheater, cheating, binge-worthy shows

But then there are shows like the Santa Clarita Diet that we all must watch together. It’s the kind of show that brings us back together and reminds us of why we fell in love in the first place, because we just get each other completely.

I’d definitely hide a body for him and I’m pretty sure he’d do just about anything in his power to keep me from turning into a zombie. I mean, I’m pretty difficult just when I’m hangry. I’d never cheat on him by watching the Santa Clarita Diet alone.

Netflix, cheater, cheating, binge-worthy shows

 

But then again, I won’t lie, when House of Cards returns this May, I won’t even pretend that I’m not doing it. The simple fact is that I will be cheating my way through it within a weekend. But don’t feel too bad for the Big Guy, I’ll be doing the Netflixing but we’ll be doing the chillin’ together. He’s the only one I ever want to Netflix and Chill with. I mean come on, I’m a show cheater not a real one.

What Netflix show can you not help but cheating and watching ahead on? Come on you can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.

Disclosure: This post was not compensated though I am a member of the Stream Team. All opinions and binge watching habits are my own.

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love in marriage, Love, marriage, Valentine's Day, Big Guy

Do you think love in a marriage can be as passionate as love before marriage? Like head over heels, “I would live forever just to be by you” love? “I love you so damn much that I want to be ghosts with you” love? The kind of love in a marriage that you never want to let go of?

The kind of love in a marriage that makes you brave.

I’m not usually a sappy person here, well, not too often anyway, but this Valentine’s Day something happened. I’ve been changing a lot of things in my life lately but one thing hasn’t changed. The Big Guy has always been my rock; my constant.

The Big Guy is what I affectionately call my husband here on this blog. If you’ve been a long-time reader, you know it’s because he is 6’5” not because I think he’s God, though many of you have asked me that before. He really is a big guy and we have big kids but with him, its not just his stature. He laughs big, he smiles big, he loves big, he’s just a big personality and anyone who has met him can attest to that.

Even living with all this bigness all the time, it truly is the little things that count with us and he gets that. He’s always gotten that and that’s one of the reasons I adore him so completely.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. I know many of you think it’s just a Hallmark holiday and in many ways, it is. I was never big on the holiday because, in previous relationships, it just felt like an inevitable trap to be let down. I’d get my hopes up and things would never measure up. Then I met my husband and ever since that first Valentine’s Day, he’s always made it more than special.

The kind of love in a marriage that makes you forget reason.

You see, we got engaged on January 23, 1998. Random weird time to get engaged right? Especially since we had only been dating for 4 months at the time. I was completely speechless when he asked me in the middle of a club. There was no ring, there was no drop to your knee It was him screaming over the music and me shocked. It felt impetuous. I wasn’t so sure if it was him or all the alcohol he had been drinking that was asking me to spend the rest of my life with him so it took me a couple weeks to give him an answer. Sounds terrible, right? Wrong.

When I called my sister to tell her what this crazy guy at university has just done, she said, “Oh yeah. Weird, I thought he was waiting until Valentine’s day. He told us at Thanksgiving that he was going to ask.” Wait! What? November????

Apparently, the proposal was not impetuous, only the delivery. He had been planning for months, though he still didn’t have a ring. He told them he knew from the moment we met that I was his soulmate. To be honest, after being burned by the previous few guys I had dated, I was kind of jaded on the whole “soulmate” thing. Not, him. Not my Big Guy.

Apparently, he was a little nervous and it just popped out of his mouth on the dance floor, a couple weeks early. That’s why there was no ring.  Maybe I was accidentally doing some sort of fertility/marry me dance that I didn’t even realize I was doing and my female wiles overtook him. All I know is the sweetest man I had ever met (and barely knew) asked me to marry him. My answer? I love you and then I casually walked away as if he’s just asked me if I wanted a beer.

We both pretended it didn’t happen. Then a week or so later while sitting across the computer lab he emailed me a note that read, “so are you ever going to answer me?”

Yikes, he hadn’t been that drunk. I told him I didn’t think he was serious and I needed to think about it because it was a serious question. It wasn’t like, do you want fries with your burger. It was the biggest question of my life.

Do you love me enough to spend the rest of your life with me?

Finally, I answered. It was really simple, I asked myself, can you live the rest of your life without this man in it? My answer was quick and all consuming, no. After knowing him, I couldn’t see my life playing out with anyone else. It depressed me to think of not seeing him every day or hearing that big crazy laugh or seeing that big beautiful smile so I said, “Hell, yes!”

I got an engagement ring for Valentine’s Day that year. That’s why Valentine’s Day is special to me. Not because of the holiday per se but because it was supposed to be the day the Big Guy asked me to be his wife but he was just so damn eager that he couldn’t wait. And he actually purchased it from a design your own custom engagement rings shop. Awwww, right?

He’s always done Valentine’s Day big. He pulls out all the stops. But this year I didn’t want a big elaborate gift. I wanted something more personal. I wanted him. I wanted his love in a tangible form. Sometimes love in a marriage becomes quieter and more of a hum than a roar. I wanted a roar.

I wanted a playlist (modern day mixtape), a hand-written note from him (which ended up being the sweetest Facebook status ever) and I didn’t want to cook dinner. Other than that, I just wanted to be together. That’s exactly what I got.

love in a marriage, Love, relationships, marriage, Valentine's Day, Big Guy

Needless to say, I spent most of yesterday crying happy tears because he kept sucker punching me with all the feels. It was glorious. Proof that love in a marriage can sweep you off your feet just as much as any new, shiny relationship.

The kind of love in a marriage that makes you want to have babies just so there are more people like him in the world.

Every word was like salve to my soul. He is not a big talker. He’s more of a do-er. He shows me he loves me in his actions every single day. He’s the kind of guy who makes the scrambled eggs on school mornings so you can have a break. He’s the kind of guy who gives you the last bite of his sandwich because you’re still hungry, even if so is he. But I’m a writer and sometimes I want words and wow, his words were everything.

The playlist spoke to me in another way. It spoke to my heart with every lyric. Each song was more perfect than the last. It said everything I needed to hear.

You know how when you are young and dating you’re always wondering, just a little bit, where you stand in the relationship? How he really feels? Well, the Big Guy laid it all on the table and damn.

Love, relationships, marriage, Valentine's Day, Big Guy

The kind of love that leaves you speechless.

I don’t know how you spent Valentine’s Day but I hope it was amazing. I don’t mean fireworks, symphonies and diamonds (those things are nice) but amazing in that at the end of the day, you knew you were loved by someone for just being you. Unconditional, all-accepting love is something I never knew in my life until the Big Guy and nothing compares. No gift can compare 100% reciprocated, unconditional and equal love.

I don’t know if there are any words that can convey to him how much his words meant to me but I hope he knows that I couldn’t imagine spending my life loving anyone else. I was scared when he asked me to marry him because it was so soon in our relationship but every day, I thank God the universe that he chose me.

What is the one thing your partner did to show you that love in marriage could be just as passionate as when you were single?

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marriage, married sex, relationships, parenting, love languages

How scrambled eggs made my marriage sexy again or as I like to say, the truest marriage story ever told.

Marriage is different for every single couple. We all have these preconceived notions of what a marriage should look like based on what we experienced within in our own family. On top of that, we all view love from the perspective of our love language; and apparently most of us don’t speak the same language.

For me, my parents’ marriage looked like two people who loved each other, except for when they didn’t. There was a lot of physical attraction and affection but there were definite gender roles. There was no shortage of PDA in our house but they were not equals.

In their marriage, they were not equals and neither spoke the other’s love language.

My dad was in charge and my mom was slightly above the children in her social standing within the family. He took care of her and she liked that but the price of being taken care of was being treated like a dependent instead of a partner. I knew then that was not what I wanted out of a marriage. What I wanted was a strong man who could handle a strong woman. I wanted us to be in life together.

My dad took care of the outside things like going to a job and providing for us, barbecuing, taking care of the cars and the lawn. My mom took care of everything inside the house, including the six children and all the household chores, grocery shopping, kissing booboos and cooking. Never did the two roles meet. That’s not how my marriage is.at.all.

My marriage is equal.

Our marriage is one of partners. I know everybody says it, but my husband really has been my best friend since college. We do what we are good at. Sometimes we do fall into those traditional roles. My dad taught me how to change the oil and my tires but I haven’t since I met my husband. I used to mow the lawn but my husband does to so mostly, I let him do it. Of course, I don’t see anyone fist fighting the cleaning fairy to do the dishes up in this mother but if I ask, the Big Guy always jumps in and loads the dishwasher. And the man is a clothes washing beast on the weekends. Folding? No, that’s another story.

But overall we both do whatever needs to be done. But I do work from home so it’s always just been assumed, by both of us, that I will do the drop offs, pick-ups and volunteering. I pack the lunches and make most of the meals. Though he is always willing to make dinner on the weekends and any night the girls and I are stuck late at ballet. To be honest, he is a much better cook than me.

My husband is pretty freaking awesome. I mean he’s married to me and he’s never asked me to be anything less than who I am and believe me, I am a handful. He’s my biggest cheerleader and my partner in this crime we call parenting. But he did something the other morning that took him to a next level.  Yes, the man just leveled up on his husband game. I didn’t even think it was possible. I mean, if you ever talk to my mom she will tell you, he is a damn good man. Seems, the Big Guy is fluent in my love language. He might not speak Spanish, but he is a native speaker in Debi.

In one small chore for husbands, one giant leap for husband-kind he became the sexiest man alive over breakfast on Tuesday. He did something so small but so huge that I can’t believe every husband hasn’t offered to do it. If they only knew the benefits they would reap, there would be an epidemic of feminist men.

Firstly, let me preface this by saying that last week, out of the blue for the first time in 7 years of having children in school, he offered to start dropping the girls at school on the regular. He does it when I need him to but he offered to do it daily. For no reason.

This act of service instantly spoke to my love language.

First, I was shocked. Then I assumed that he must be having an affair and then I was so giddy to know that he was going to get them to school that I convinced myself I could forgive the affair. ( Babe, if you are reading this….I’m just kidding, you know the rules.) That means I no longer have to argue with them about being late (they don’t pull that shit with him), I don’t stress out for the first hour of my day AND I gained an extra hour to my day. It’s brilliant and I’m not going to lie, he got my juices flowing with this out of the blue act of kindness.

I mean, he’s thoughtful and sweet and caring and all those other things but he’s human. Both of us always consider the other one but no one is going out of their way to eliminate the normal day-to-day minutia.

marriage sexy, marriage, married sex, relationships, parentingThen, on Tuesday, he blew my mind. He got up, already going to give them a ride to school, and he made them breakfast. BOOM! What? I almost fell over dead because I didn’t even ask him to do it. There he was, like a freaking sexy angel, making the girls scrambled eggs. That eliminated the, “What do you want for breakfast” headache, leaving me with only the, “What do you want for lunch,” struggle. I didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with this man but I did. Not going to lie, it took everything in my body, not to throw him on the counter and take him right there. Anyways, apparently, scrambling eggs for kids gets my motor running these days. Remember when it was a nice ass and abs?

Anyways, that ignited something in me and my husband has gone from regular, old “I love you” sexy to hottest mother effer on the planet. I’ve spent all day the last two days trying to figure out how to kick things up to carnival ride status in the bedroom because him making scrambled eggs, more importantly alleviating the need for me to do so, has just made me want to rock his world. His love language is physical touch.

Now, if I could just get the girls to stay out of our bed maybe I could thank him properly for those scrambled eggs.

That’s how scrambled eggs made my husband the sexiest man alive. What little thing does your partner do that speaks directly to your love language?

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bigger women, beautiful women, all women, women, happy in your own skin, body acceptance, self-love, dating a bigger woman

Yesterday, I read an article about what men think about dating bigger women. It was called 15 Thoughts Every Guy Has When Dating A Bigger Woman and kept waiting to read that it was a joke; a satirical piece written about society’s treatment of overweight women. Unfortunately, it was not. It was just one douchey guy’s opinion about men who date women who are not “hot” and rocking the unattainable, bullshit body stereotype that media would have you believe is real. It’s not. Even the skitches you see with those bodies in magazine spreads, don’t have those body types. They have photoshop. There may be 1% of 18 –year-olds who are rocking that body without medical assistance.

As a rule, women have been fighting men’s traditional stereotype of “hot” since the dawn of time. In fact, many a woman has developed eating disorders and poor self body-image to adhere to society’s standard of beauty. Let’s face it, in the United States, skinny still is the determining factor of whether or not a woman is considered hot. If you doubt my assessment, just read the article written in The Richest.  This guy is everything that is wrong with the world. He is the oppressor of women and should be called out as such.

Jim Hogue’s bullet points about why dating bigger women is settling for less than:

“Lots of times you see a guy, he could be normal sized or he could be overweight himself, with a woman that is a bit overweight. When that happens a bunch of things go through a guy’s mind. On the one hand you might feel a little bad for the guy, but on the other hand you might think that he was really in love, or at least was with someone he really liked. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all.”

Apparently, men who date bigger women are to be pitied.

His List of 15 thoughts every guy has when dating bigger women.

Your Date is Tough

Well, a guy that dates a plus-sized girl is usually not one of those guys. This guy wants a girl to hang out with that is tough, and can take care of herself. This is the kind of woman that mowed the lawn when she was growing up and went fishing with her dad. Maybe that is not the kind of girl that you imagine hanging out with, but hey, to each his own.

 

My Girl Can Cook

So maybe this goes without saying, I don’t know, but I am going to say it anyway. Big girls usually get big for a reason, and usually that reason has something to do with food. While it might be fun to be out clubbing with some hot woman, it is just as fun, and maybe more fun to the right guy, to stay at home and have a woman cook for him and take care of him.

 

Calorie Counting is Out

So we have all been there. You get out of work and have had a long day, and you are totally starving. You want to order a large Pepperoni pizza from the pizza joint, the kind they say feeds 4 people and you want to eat all of it all by yourself. Well, this is no problem at all with the plus-sized girlfriend; just give her a ring and tell her that you are on your way home and are picking up a large pie. The only problem is you are going to have to buy two.

 

It is Good for His Confidence

Some guys just lack confidence. They don’t feel ready to ask out the women that they truly desire. They need to work their way up so to speak. I know that may sound cruel, but this is about what guys think when they date plus-sized women.

 

He Might Like Them Better

While so many people look at a guy with a plus-sized woman and feel kind of bad for him, very few actually seem to understand that a lot of guys actually really like women that look this way. To each his own, people like what they like and there are a lot odder things that people are into than that.

 

They Are Easy to Talk To

One of the main things a guy dating a bigger chick is often thinking is how easy his girl is to talk to. This may seem like something that is not important to many guys, but after hanging out with a lot of uptight women, a girl that can relax and talk is a breath of fresh air. Let’s face it, so many women that look traditionally hot have never really learned the art of conversation, and most of them are not that funny. A plus-sized woman is the exact opposite. They are used to working their personality to make up for what many guys perceive to be flaws.  Most girls that are overweight tend to be really fun, and easy to talk to about pretty much anything. A guy that dates a normal-sized girl is not used to that at all.

 

**Oh look, this asshole managed to completely insult ALL women in one single paragraph! ***

 

Picking a Place to Eat is Easy

You want to go get some wings and some fries and watch the game at a sports bar and she wants to go to that new hip place and get Thai food. Or it could be that you go to order pizza and you want sausage and onion and she wants feta and greek olives?  Sometimes that whole scene can turn into an enormous fight when you are dating a chick that is average-sized. Well, if you are dating someone that is plus-sized, then you don’t have to worry about this a whole lot. She is going to probably be willing to go pretty much anywhere you want her to, at any time.

 

The Cuddling is the Best

There are some things that are simply not as fun when you are hanging out with a skinny woman. Like what you ask?  Cuddling a skinny woman is no fun at all. It feels like you are snuggling with your 12-year-old brother.  Not so if you are dating a plus- sized woman. In fact, once you start to cuddle her, you might not want to stop. It really is that good. Overweight women should hire themselves out as professional cuddlers. Oh, and also they are willing. A plus-sized girl is going to tend to be happy for that sort of attention, no doubt about that at all. All you have to do is lay down on the couch and look at her in a sweet way, and you will get your cuddle going before you know it.

 

She is a Built in Work-Out Buddy

A thin chick probably has a pretty stingy workout set routine; and not only that, she might be in better shape than you are. Not so if you are dating an overweight chick. She is probably going to be up for trying pretty much anything that you are into when it comes to training or working out. Sure, she might lag a little bit at first, but all that does is take a lot of pressure off your shoulders, and that is never a bad thing.

 

There is Less Pressure on How You Look

if you are dating a plus-sized woman. This is a whole new world: all of sudden kicking around the house all Sunday watching football and eating a whole bag of Cheese Doodles is more than fine. The woman you are dating is not going to care even a little bit about how much you weigh or what you eat, and that in itself can be priceless.

 

Jealousy is a Thing of the Past

Being jealous is a way of life for a lot of guys. It is one of the problems of having a super hot girlfriend. It is not like you are the only one that notices; everywhere you go people are going to be checking her out and sometimes, if you are a certain type of guy, that kind of thing can drive you crazy. And truth be told, this is why a lot of guys like dating a woman that they don’t have to worry about unwanted eyes.

 

They Tend to be Funny

Plus-sized girls tend to be funny, or at the very least they often have a really good sense of humor. This goes a bit hand in hand with the fact that they are easy to talk to. So many times girls that grew up being told they were hot all the time tend to stifle their sense of humor- why do they need to be funny?

A big chick is very often a really funny one, it happens all the time. It is no coincidence that so many female comedians tend to be a bit on the big side.

 

They Tend to Be Eager to Please

While so many women want a guy to put her up on a pedestal, when you are dating a plus-sized girl it is often the exact opposite. They are often not used to being with a guy and are insecure about it. They want you to be happy. Whether it is going out or staying in, what movie to see, or what you do in the bedroom, most of these women are eager to please. In their minds you have looked past their physical issues and are into them for who they are. Which in turn often makes them very willing, in all sorts of ways. A guy with a plus-sized girl can soon feel like a king, which can be really appealing to the guy that was getting pushed around in another relationship.

 

You Can Take Her Anywhere

She will go pretty much anywhere you want to go, and do whatever you want to do. Want to spend the day at the beach? She will go and rub lotion on your back in those hard to reach places. Want to spend the day doing yard work? She will probably be up for doing that as well, and may even outwork you while doing it. A typical guy that dates a plus-sized woman really gets used to hanging with someone agreeable for a change, and who quite often is up for anything. This is not to say that most hot women are not agreeable of course. Actually, who am I kidding, that is exactly what I mean.

 

They are Easy to Ask Out

Guys don’t like getting stressed out, so they go with something that they consider more of a sure thing. It is hard to ask out a woman, so sometimes a guy ends up asking someone he is pretty sure that he will not get rejected by, which is why he asks out a plus-sized woman in the first place.da

Firstly, who is defining what’s considered “bigger”? Is it a size 8, 10, 14, 20, 26? Is it anything above a sample size. That may be “Normal” in places where looks are all that matter and eating disorders and plastic surgery are the norm (I’m looking at you California) but it’s not in the rest of the world. And who defines beauty anyways? The media which is controlled, predominantly, by men.

There are plenty of fat, bald and old guys out there with wives, girlfriends and partners and no one flinches. No one feels sorry for their spouses. The assumption is that their partner loves them, not that their partner settled for them so why is it that society assumes that in order for a man to love a woman who is not anorexic, he must be settling and it could not possibly be a physical attraction? Besides, when choosing a partner, initially we are attracted to the way a person looks (that’s human nature) and then we fall in love with who they are and all their qualities that we find endearing and that is different for every single person. When you’re in the dating stage and you admit to your friends by saying something like “he makes me jealous“, then you must know all the possible reasons why your man does that in order to have a better relationship.

The fact that this guy assumes that because a woman is “bigger” she is being settled for and that if is guy is dating a “bigger” girl it is out of desperation or some sort of willful act of giving up makes me sick. I also find it kind of alarming that he manages to insult all women in his piece, as a men you can expand your options and rely in some hookup sites to meet women you really like. He basically calls skinny women unapproachable bitches that he is not up for the challenge of even attempting to date and he infers that bigger women are so needy and willing to please that he’ll settle for less than “perfect” in order to not face rejection.

As a woman who has been the thin hot woman and I know the burden of being a “bigger” woman and everything in between, I can assure you that there are plenty of men out there who want all women. Good, decent respectable men who are attracted to all types and don’t consider it settling or giving up on life to date a woman who crosses the threshold of a size 6. Only men with small minds judge women on the size of their asses.

This article is more telling about Jim Hogue’s, the author, shortcomings than anything else. Let me tell you one last thing Mr. Hogue on behalf of women everywhere of every size, none of us wants you because you are ugly to the core and that is worse than fat any day of the week. You sir deserve this week’s Throat Punch Thursday!

Throat Punch Thursday,dating bigger women

If you’d like to read the article 15 Thoughts Every Guy Has When Dating A Bigger Woman in its entirety it is here.

What are your thoughts on his take on dating bigger women?

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birthday, husband, love

Birthday celebration today! May 3rd is one of the most important days of my year; 41 years ago on this day, this handsome man was born. This is my husband (better known to the Internet as The Big Guy), the father of my children, my best friend and my partner in life. I love this man more than I can put into words. This is the guy who took on all the crazy and loved me in spite of myself. You don’t know the half of it

This past year has been a hard one ( you know with me seeming to have one medical issue after another) but this guy, he’s never complained ( as bone tired and frustrated as he might have been picking up all of the slack). He loves his girls like we are the entire world to him and that’s a damn special love.

Baby, I want to wish you the happiest of birthdays and I look forward to a lifetime of celebrating them with you. Thank you for all that you do. It hasn’t gone unnoticed or unfelt. Having you in this world has certainly made it a better place. Love you more! 

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relationship advice, married sex, children and marriage, sex, marriage

I’m not usually one to give relationship advice but when marital relations with children in the house is the topic, I feel it’s my duty to warn you about the dangers, especially the Lee Harvey Oswald. No, I didn’t just get shot in the head in Texas and there’s been no grass on the knoll since 1997. But, yes, to my horror I did just get shot in the eye unexpectedly. It was funny but not really because I’m pretty sure a mom can lose her left eye in such shenanigans.

Look, I’m not trying to go all TMI on you so early in the morning but most of you have kids, so you will totally get this and if you don’t have kids, you were a teenager at one point and had parents (more than likely) so you will totally understand what I am about to tell you.  It’s a tale as old as time, people trying to have sex while not trying to get caught by other people (in our case, little people.) I love the Big Guy more today than I did when we first got together almost 20 years ago and I still think he’s the hottest man in the room, but as our girls have gotten older “couple time” has gotten tricky.

This is the one bit of relationship advice about sex that you will want to take.

See, the kids are getting a little older and that means they are staying up a little later and getting up a little earlier. The point being after a couple episodes of Big Bang Theory or Last Week Tonight our “alone time” is spent which means that leaves very little time for “adult time”. That stinks. We’re humans, not just parents, we have needs. Needs and desires that require us to feel and be adults; entities that exist outside the realm of Mommy and Daddy.

A couple weeks ago the Big Guy was home for a week with a raging case of pink eye and believe me you; we used up every single moment of free time. It was like we were back in college just he had pink eye, I was jet lagged and we were in a bed and not in a rickety loft. Either way, it reminded us of how important “us time” really is. It’s not about just sex, it’s about intimacy and all it takes is some sneaky squirrel antics on our part, at least 15 minutes of distracted kids and a locked door is nice too. Damn open door policy in our house.

Don’t get me wrong, we’ve spent the last decade playing the worst game of sex hide and seek ever. That game is stressful and not romantic. When they were small it was easy, we could take it to the living room floor, the conjugalorium, the half bath or even the laundry room or a closet if we were really in dire straights. Sure we got busted a couple times but we played it off. They thought they dreamt mommy and daddy were wrestling.

But now, if we’re caught someone’s going to be traumatized. The girls are ballerinas and I swear they must float on air because they need to wear bells because they are the best sidlers I’ve ever known, especially the little one so the risk of getting busted is dangerously high.

This morning the girls requested an early wake up call so that they could shower. We saw our opportunity. We had to take it. So the minute we heard the shower start, the clock was ticking. We locked the door and took what was ours.

Then it happened. I got Oswalded. We heard the shampoo drop and in a frantic rush we knew it was now or never. We also knew that I was ovulating and we are a strictly no more baby household, especially considering that a couple weeks ago everyone in my gynecologist’s office couldn’t stop asking if I was menopausal? It must be the matronly swagger with which I rock my skinny jeans and TOMs.

In a frantic scurry not to procreate, we “ disengaged” and that’s when “it” grazed my stomach, ricocheted off of my left breast and hit me squarely beneath my eye before continuing on to the pillow. MY EYE! I was in shock. Was I dead? Was I bleeding? One thing I knew for sure, and thank God for the positive side of everything, I wasn’t pregnant.

Now, I totally get it…the whole, you’ll shoot your eye out and you’ll go blind statements of our mothers past…the force with which a weekend build up holds could surely render me a wondrous one-eyed Willie. How the hell would I explain that my husband Lee Harvey Oswalded me during a quickie because we were afraid our kids would catch us?

Here’s the relationship advice everybody trying to have sex with kids in the house should heed…

Lock the damn door and take your time. You deserve it. I know it’s hard having with kids standing on the other side and it’s a little terrifying especially since I think my littlest might know how to pick a lock but damn it, your eyesight is important. It’s all fun and games until someone gets their eye shot out and a sticky eyebrow as a parting gift.

As a parent what piece of relationship advice would you give another parent about having sex with kids, especially older ones, in the house?

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romance, marriage, the romance of marriage,sex

The romance of marriage might not look anything like what you thought it would when you first fell in love. Then again, nothing ever does. Hell, I was the best parent in the world before I gave birth and I had a very specific vision of what my romantic life with the man I loved would look like. I didn’t know shit.

If you are a fan of love stories you definitely have to see this blog post about romance novels at AnyStories that will melt your heart.

In the beginning, romance meant not being able to keep our hands off of one another. It was every minute of every day being together, or at least wanting to be together. It meant nights sitting on rooftops, snuggled together watching the stars and kissing. In the beginning, it was sitting in his lap, long walks late at night talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. We were in college and on that first night, we met and neither of  us was particularly interested in the other but by the end of that night, something unexpected happened; he was everything I never knew I always wanted.

We’ve been married now for almost 17 years now, which comes as a shock to everyone, especially since we got engaged after only 4 months of knowing one another. He said he just knew. I was a little less rash in the beginning but I knew I loved him and I couldn’t imagine spending my life without him.

The romance of marriage evolves as it goes on.

Over time, the definition of romance has changed as we have grown and changed. Before children, it meant long weekends together, eating at 5-star restaurants, dancing and laughing until out legs couldn’t support us any longer. Then it meant making our way back to our hotel room through a fog of alcohol and lust and making love until we collapsed in one another’s arms. Those were the days when everything was ahead of us.

Then on one particularly special weekend spent celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary in New Orleans and life took a pleasantly unexpected turn, we were “blessed” with the conception of our first child. Then, weekends away were no more. Date nights went into retirement for 5 long years but it didn’t matter, we were too tired and too broke to go out anyways. To be honest those first few “date nights” and most after that for a couple years, we spent eating take out in our pajamas in quiet and going to bed at a reasonable hour; sometimes sex happened and sometimes it didn’t and we were both okay with that because anyone who has ever been a parent knows that sleep is way more important for everyone involved. It’s not like we’ve forgotten that “sex” is what got us into this predicament in the first damn place.

Not that I’m bitter about parenthood. I love my children, as much as anyone can love children that are awake. They are my favorite children in the world. I can tolerate their whining almost constantly but we’ve come to a point in our lives where we fully recognize, with the help of some sleep, that our children are only a temporary situation. Parenting little kids is not a permanent status, not in the way it is today or yesterday or will be tomorrow. It is ever changing and evolving. It is amazing, terrible and fantastic all at the same time and I wouldn’t change a second of it (not even the colicky ones or the night terrors or the endless nights of sleeplessness). It’s the best thing I will ever do.

These days date nights are still pretty few and far between for the Big Guy and I. Not that we don’t enjoy a night on the town, it’s just that date night for us means kids sleeping over at Grandma’s and that means a whole lot of coordinating of dates and times because Grandma and Grandpa have a life (more than the Big Guy and I apparently). But sometimes, a couple just needs a date night; a minute to remember whom you were before babies. A second to remember why you used to forgo sleep and food just to devour this other person literally and metaphorically; why they were your everything. They are still there and you need to recognize that, out loud, at least occasionally. A little slap on the ass, deep kiss in the middle of the afternoon or a text that says, ” I can’t stop thinking about you sexy!” can go a long way in reminding them that you still find them to be an attractive sexual being, even if it’s buried under spit up and stains and a hangry attitude.

The romance of marriage is about loving someone so much that you can still see them, even when they feel like they have begun to disappear.

So we jumped through all the hoops, signed all the necessary documents and voila, 3 weeks later we got a date night approved and it was glorious. First, he took me to see a horror movie in.the.theater. That never happens. We are all about the Netflix and Chill situation. In return, I chose a restaurant that he had been wanting to try; a microbrewery in an old warehouse. It was by no stretch of the imagination 5-star but it was quaint and it was nice to be there with him. Hell, I was having such a good time sitting at our chalkboard table, sampling my flight of craft beers (totally out of my comfort zone) that I barely even noticed the herd of hipsters with handlebar mustaches playing chutes and ladders or some shit at the next table. Barely but obviously a little bit. Who the hell cannot stare at a handlebar mustache with a man bun and a Member’s Only jacket playing Chutes and Ladders? Seriously.

We ordered off of the very limited (as if it were secret) menu. My choices were a Nutella hotdog or a BLT with Gouda or some other 3 pub specialties. I chose the BLT because I was starving and needed something to fill my empty stomach that was fighting what I found out the next morning to be the flu. The Big Guy chose some sort of beef sandwich. But none of that was important, what was important was that there we were talking, drinking, laughing and being “us” with no one calling us mommy or daddy for miles.

At one particularly romantic moment of the night, I excused myself to the restroom only to return to my seat to find the words “SEXY!” with an arrow pointing to my seat scribbled in chalk on the table. Sounds simple, right? But it made me feel sexy. It made me feel like he saw me, for the first time in a long time. Of course, he soon followed that message up with his own message on his side of the table, directed toward the waitress, “ Check Please. I’m going home to have SEX!” It made me laugh. It made me feel wanted and we left the hipsters to their chutes and ladders. Sure, it was only 10 p.m. but that was really f*cking adorable.

On the way home I told him that I really wanted something sweet. Obviously, the hipster brew worx didn’t serve dessert unless you count the Nutella on the all beef hotdog. I didn’t. So he stopped by a grocery store, ran in, and returned the sexiest man alive with a box of fudge pop tarts and a giant bouquet of wild flowers from an anniversary floral arrangement shop, just because…my favorite kind of flowers in the world. Apparently, I’m cheap and easy.

It wasn’t a five star date night by any stretch of the imagination but it had the same effect and ended the same way, minus the dancing until our legs gave out because since I broke my leg, it doesn’t work like it used to. Of course, leave it to him to make even that sexy because I’ll be damned if he didn’t give that ugly scar a little kiss while he massaged my leg that night, like he’s done for months while I’ve been recovering from this broken leg.

That’s what the romance of marriage is really about, falling in love with the same person over and over again throughout time. Choosing to love them every day.

What is your definition of the romance of marriage?

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