Monday, March 14, 2011

An Ode

From an outside perspective - shit, even from my own sometimes! - it appears Jacob and I moved through the stages of our relationship pretty quickly.

When we first "met." Before, the last time we had seen each other was in 4th grade. This was taken the weekend in Denver when we saw each other for the first time in 16 years. It was the closest thing to love at first sight I could ever experience (it was more like complete-nervous-break-down-is-over-and-is-replaced-by-extreme-comfort-at first sight).

Most of the time our ESPN is pretty impenetrable, often saying what the other is thinking, doing things at the same time, or just knowing something. But there are times when I learn something knew and actually find it shocking that I didn't know it know it before; and vice versa. It's difficult for a person like me, someone who needs to have all of their ducks in a row, as my mom likes to say, to not get frustrated with the things I don't know. I know he feels the same, along with the slight insecurity that the new things we learn about each other we may not necessarily like or enjoy. The bottom line: Jacob and I have a very normal relationship and we need to remember that. And throughout things that I may not like, I can't take for granted how lucky I am that he is my husband and Zoey's father.

No, nothing in particular happened to result in my epiphany, for lack of a better word. But Jacob did spoil me this weekend, in that female porn type of way (reference to that always-circulated e-mail depicting female porn as burly men doing house chores).

We are always busy, and regardless of how "progressive" I claim to be, I'm no feminist (especially after idiots like Sarah Palin started using the phrase ad nauseam to describe the throngs of fucktards who are nothing more than her groupies). I do the house work, and I enjoy it. I like the feeling of accomplishment when the laundry is done, the house is clean, or food is cooked because that is something I did for my family, to make sure we have clean clothes and meals for the week.

But before you go throwing up in your mouth, let me be clear that this is in addition to things I do at work, anything I do to help others or the community, before or after a heated political discussion with George Washington University's most coiffed Political Management graduate, Daryl, or even just finishing my book club book before the meeting.

Me and my book club ladies at my first meeting November 2010. Now we all have babies so we alternate houses where we hold our meetings. One girl is in charge of supplying all the wine.

Jacob is probably the most helpful person I have ever come across. Even if he's been busy all day he'll sometimes feel he isn't helping enough. And even though I can be a real bitch, I try to keep any martyrdom to a minimum. But Saturday morning I must have looked like I was ready to chew someones face off.

I'm like the quintessential housewife on the weekends - jump out of bed (I've probably been up for an hour already anyway), get and change baby, feed baby, commence with housework in between playtime, nap time, and random moments when I feel like sitting and staring into space. This was how my last Saturday started.

I usually wake up in the morning with oodles of ambition that ends up deteriorating by 2pm. On Saturday my ambition drove me to the backyard that, gross as it is I'll be the first to admit, hadn't been cleaned up since I got too pregnant to bend over and stay that way without getting dizzy or peeing all over myself. I spent a good 2 hours out there, filling 3 garbage bags full of dog poop and peed-on dog toys, most of which were still pretty frozen to the ground. I could have waited until the sun had been up longer but the more solidified the poop, the better. When I went inside, Jacob was on his 2nd load of laundry, had Zoey changed and in her 3rd outfit for the morning, and was sweeping the kitchen floor.

Back aching, I sat on the couch, folded laundry, and tried to catch up on the months of DOOL (Days of Our Lives) that I've missed. Meanwhile, Jacob swept and mopped the floor, changed Zoey, and put her down for her first nap. And it continued throughout most of the weekend.

As Jacob was transferring the clothes from the washer to the dryer with Zoey twisting on his hip, and I stood there in the kitchen picking my ass, I said, "Gosh, thank you for doing all of this." He said - rather, grunted - "It's all good, baby. You shouldn't have to do it all the time; you need a break once in awhile."

P.S. He has since cut his hair. Zoey was on his shoulders
and spit up all over his hair so into the bathroom with clippers we went! Zoey joined us in the bathroom so as not to be scared by Daddy and his new hair; or lack thereof.

So thanks to the world's greatest husband that I can call my very own, I had a pretty relaxing weekend. Because it stresses me out when I don't have anything to do (probably from years of making sure the list Dad posted on the 'fridge each day during summer was finished), I wasn't a complete sloth throughout the weekend.

After gathering poop, I helped Jacob with the laundry, did the dishes, played with Miss Zo, watched episodes of DOOL up until March 2nd, discovered this years' motley crew of American Idol finalists, made a very yummy dinner with a recipe I found while looking for something else (lemon dijon chicken), washed those dishes, went to the gym with my friend and fellow book-clubber, Mer, went baby-stuff shopping, and spent every minute in between knowing that no matter what has happened, or what may happen, my life could have gone so incredibly differently; and I thank whoever is on His reclineable cloud in the sky that it didn't. (Although I could still end up as the leader of the free-world)

**After you've finished heaving into the nearest receptacle, you may be thinking, "hey! Where are the stories and fantastic pictures of Zoey?!" Well, she would exist if my husband weren't so wonderful**