An Apology

Dear Readers,

We're sorry.

Really, we are. We didn't abandon you. In fact, nearly daily Debbie and I would chat about how we "Really need to write" but you see, it was nearly impossibly and here is why:

We confessed. We told our husbands about Ugh. and all of a sudden, it lost its luster. It was like we finally confessed to them that we had been sleeping with the pool boy and all they said was "hey, that's pretty cool." It didn't feel dirty anymore, and so we just kind of retreated. It's like... what fun is naughty underwear if all your husband really prefers is Hanes cotton with a high waist?

Murderous rage took over. Shortly after confessing to our husbands a funny thing happened: we wanted to kill them (Dear FBI/law enforcement - this is a joke. Please don't arrest us. Our husbands are finneeee). Everything that Clark and Hans did reinforced the belief that all women should move to a deserted island and men should only be imported once a year for breeding purposes only. It went like this: Husband did something stupid, wife threatened his balls, husband did another stupid thing, wife threatened divorce, husband chuckled and walked away to play video games. For both of us. You'd think that this would have given us some great fodder for posts, but in fact, we were so enraged that we couldn't write for fear that if we wrote, each post would look something like this: thatfuckingdouchebagbetterwatchhisballstonight.

We moved/Celebrated birthdays. Clark and I moved. That was a project. Debbie and Hans celebrated Gigi's first birthday, which was also a project (maybe Debbie can share the cupcake story, eh?). We were busy. You were forgotten.

We decided not to kill our husbands. Debbie and Hans got a professional organizer who has dramatically changed their life together. Clark and I are getting on just swimmingly in our new home. Again, nothing to really post about because they'd all go something like this: Husband took the garbage out, I made dinner, the end.

So... here we are. Back. Hoping that you may forgive us, and hoping our loving, charming, sweet husbands may give us some good ammunition this holiday season to use against them and entertain you all. :)

Much love,
xoxo,
Nanc and Deb

I Would Give my Gallbladder for a New Droid 2

For almost a year, Hans has been looking forward to Monday, September 13th and I have heard about it at least once a day.  He has been planning for Monday September 13th, living for Monday September 13th, dreaming  of Monday September 13th. 

Monday, September 13th - D-Day: the day our Verizon contract could be renewed and he could get a Droid, aka Droid-Day.

Unfortunately for Hans, Monday, September 13th also ended up being G-Day, the day that I had to have my gallbladder removed.  We were up at 5 am, at the hospital by 6, in the gown by 6:30 and significantly drugged by 7. 

Marriage Vows say NOTHING about slush puppies

On July 4th Hans and I decided to take Gigi to a parade.  We had recently had a great time at the Memorial Day parade that ran the same route: a marching band, some uncoordinated majorettes, girls scouts and old dudes in cars, easy parking and in and out in 45 minutes!  I stupidly assumed the July 4th parade would be the same. BIG MISTAKE- HUGE.

In One Beer - Cheese the Other

Last night while making dinner for Hans and Gigi (after coming home from work of course) I asked Hans (who was milling around in the kitchen enjoying a cold beer beverage) if he would please go to the basement and get me the bag of mozzarella cheese in the freezer, as I needed it for his dinner that I was lovingly preparing -for him by the way, did I mention that part?

"Are you serious?" he asked.

Dishwasher - Half-Full or Half-Empty?

My New Communication Approach- Flow Charts

Earlier this week, I asked Hans to empty and fill the dishwasher while I put Gigi to sleep. As usual he told me he would "do it later."

I decided to choose my battles and let it go. I also decided that I would not remind Hans of his promise to "do it later," as I often do. Some may call this nagging, but I call it a necessity because Hans has hopeless ADD and literally forgets everything. It is not at all annoying. But reminding him gives him the out to say "Jeez, I am going to do it, stop nagging me," which leaves me with nary a leg to stand on!

Out of Sight - Out of my Mind

Many thanks to my sister for reminding me to share one of the most classic Hans stories of all time.

Hans is a computer guy. He is also a hoarder, messer, leave things all over the place-er.

When we lived in our first apartment, we would go many rounds about the cords, hard drives and memory sticks that covered every surface of our house. The kitchen table, the counter, the coffee table, the sofa- literally everything.

One day, I handed Hans some computer thing that had been sitting on the kitchen table for over a week. I didn't know what it was all I knew was that I had seen it enough and it needed to go someplace else. I handed it to him and said,

"Please go put this away, right now."

Everything IN the Kitchen Sink.....or the Bathroom Sink

Hans is absolutely adamant that he does not make a mess at our house. He thinks I am the messy one, and while I am not a clean freak (although lately I have started to become one thanks to a cocktail of vitamins and going to sleep at 8 pm) I am not the messer, simply because I clean up after myself these days. Whenever I complain about how he leaves stuff everyplace and never throws anything away (but rather leaves it on the counter next to the trash can) the ONLY things Hans has to throw back at me, is that I hang my purse on doorknobs. It has been the ONLY thing he has consistently had to complain about my messiness for the past 7 years, whereas I have a list nearly as long as Santa's naughty and good lists combined.

Dress My Family Up in Corduroy

In honor of today being my husband's first day at a new job, I am going to share a memory of a time he made me laugh so hard I nearly peed my pants.

To tell the story properly, I must first share that when I was 26 my father passed away unexpectedly on Valentines Day- just a few short days before Hans had planned to ask him for permission to marry me. Hans loved my father nearly as much as I did. At his wake we knelt together to say our final goodbyes and Hans held his hand and asked him then for permission to marry me.

Reduce, Reuse, Re-Drive Me Crazy

I grew up poor. Not living in our station wagon poor (that is a serious matter, have you seen that commercial? double ugh)- but having hydrox instead of oreos, and never seeing a Q-tip until i got to college because they were an extravagance that didn't make it into the shopping cart.

Thus I grew up treating paper towels like gold. Towels that you use once and throw away? What a strange concept- then you need to buy more? Why not just use real towels and wash them when you are done? Like the pilgrims and the pioneers?

This is why my darling husband, Hans, and I have inherently different feelings about the proper use of a paper towel. I did not know about this or his intensely annoying paper towel habits until after we moved in together, and by that point it was too late, because i REALLY HATE MOVING- so i wasn't going to do it again.