Tag Archives: husband

Could You Be A Sister Wife?

I’m not sure I could.

I don’t watch Sister Wives religiously. (Ba-dum-bum. Chhhh!) But I have seen a few episodes, most recently, the one when they go back to the husband’s hometown for the first time as an open polygamist family. His friends from high school were very frank about their feelings towards him, then and now. Some were favorable. Some not so much.

The episode began to nudge me into a direction about how I feel. On one hand, it goes against everything I feel about monogomy. And to be fair, they think of themselves as monogamous. Their monogamy is just not my monogamy. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be nice to have that kind of help, friendship, incredibly close comradery with other women. Women who would totally get my frustrations with my (our?) husband, kids, life. But then, I go back to the first hand and think about theological concerns I have with the faith. So, that’s where I stay.

I’m conflicted. For myself. The shows Big Love and Sister Wives have pushed me out of my comfort zone. And that’s ok for me. It has, however,  stirred my passion for tolerance and acceptance of others who may not believe as I believe.

And it got me thinking.

If polygamy were legal, between age-appropriate and consenting adults, wouldn’t it be that much easier to prosecute the Warren Jeffs of the world? Think of all the people who could openly come forward with pertinent information regarding the abuse of young girls.

Behind closed doors, between age-appropriate, consenting adults, I don’t really care what happens. It doesn’t affect me.

What hurts us all is the abuse of young girls, forced to marry or young boys, forced out of their homes.

Horrible cults will never go away. We should always prosecute and condemn those who take advantage or neglect the welfare of our children. But if two (or three, or four…dare I say more?) adults fundamentally believe in a plural marriage? Who am I to judge?

Ok.

So now you know my fuzzy opinion.

What’s yours?

10 Comments

Filed under Because I'm Curious

Yell At Me, OK?

(To celebrate her high school graduation, my daughter and I are on a little hiatus together. A mother/daughter hiatus. I will be posting some of my favorite posts in the interim. Enjoy!)

I love words. I love the sound of certain words. I love the way words string together and mean so many different things. My husband calls me The Queen of Syntax. He complains that I get lost in semantics.

So, sue me. It’s my character flaw.

And I own it.

The other day my husband took a quick break from doing yard work and said to me, “I have Tai Chi class at 7pm. I’m not finished in the yard.  Could you yell at me at 6?”

Ummmmm. Sure.

At the appointed hour I stood on our back porch.

“Hey!” I yelled, “I’ve asked you a hundred times to put the suitcases in the basement! And your tools have been sitting on top of the dryer for a month! Put them away NOW, you slob!”

He doubled over in laughter.

(Oh no. What will the neighbors think?)

7 Comments

Filed under funny

If It Can’t Go In The Dishwasher Or Washing Machine? I Don’t Want It!

Call me crazy but if it’s dry clean only? Pass.

If it can’t go in the dishwasher? Pass.

When I first became a mom, I was the Director of Development at a small private school. I worked with the movers and shakers and I had to dress the part. That meant suits, linen dresses, silk scarves.

After a set of sticky fingers and the first spit-up on my delicate clothes I came up with a new rule: No dry clean only clothes allowed in my closet or on my body. Ever. (Or at least until the kids are out of the house…which means when I’m 58 and who knows what will be fashionable then) Firm in my no-dry-clean rule, I thought I had it all covered.

Then today, I read an article online called 5 Things You Should Never Put in the Dishwasher. I was intrigued.

Wood – Seriously? The dishwasher is my friend. It sterilizes everything. Every. Little. Thing. My kid’s toys. Cups. Silverware. Including my wooden spoons. Of course I wouldn’t put my beautiful teak salad bowl in the dishwasher. Wait a minute. What teak salad bowl? Oh, that’s right. I have kids. I can’t afford a beautiful teak salad bowl. That bowl on the left? $124.99! For a salad bowl. My cheap all-purpose bowl will just have to do.

Knives – Apparently, knives in your dishwasher will get chipped and dull. Now, I know this. I just choose to ignore it. Who out there hand washes all of your knives? Raise your hands. Higher. I can’t see you. Oh, wait. There’s one knife washer, there in the back. With quite a few band aids on those fingers. See? You should be using the dishwasher like the rest of us.

Crystal/Hand Blown Glass – I purposely put the crystal from my first marriage in the dishwasher hoping something will happen to it. Apparently, having stuff from your first marriage in your second marriage is bad feng shui. But I can’t bear to toss out perfectly good crystal. So, I put it in the dishwasher. Darn it. Those suckers are here to stay.

Pots/Pans – Are you kidding me? The amount of pots and pans I can go through in a given day? And if the kids are “helping” me? My husband “helps,” too. As in, “cleaning” the kitchen when I cook. And his idea of  “cleaning” the kitchen is loading the dishwasher. (I’m using an awful lot of quotes in this paragraph. Sorry. But they’re totally necessary.) Everything that isn’t nailed down goes in the dishwasher. Including the pots and pans. And I’m not complaining or telling him any differently. If I did, then I’d have to wash pots and pans. By hand. All. By. Myself. After I put away the leftovers, wiped down the counter, stove, table and chairs, and swept the floor. Basically, cleaned (no quotes necessary) the kitchen. So, no. Thank you.

Gold Trim – ? ? ? Really? Gold? Real gold? Isn’t that for display only?

I’ll never forget when we bought our entertainment center and my husband was mortified that in one of the cute little cubby drawers I put wipes and about 5 disposable (clean, of course) diapers in there. It was hidden. And it was convenient. Quick change. No need to run upstairs. He thanked me after about a day.

You have kids, your life changes. Completely. In every aspect.

So, say no to dry-clean and hand-wash only. We need all the help we can get.

20 Comments

Filed under All In A Day's Work

Yell At Me, OK?

I love words. I love the sound of certain words. I love the way words string together and mean so many different things. My husband calls me The Queen of Syntax. He complains that I get lost in semantics.

So, sue me. It’s my character flaw.

And I own it.

The other day my husband took a quick break from doing yard work and said to me, “I have Tai Chi class at 7pm. I’m not finished in the yard.  Could you yell at me at 6?”

Ummmmm. Sure.

At the appointed hour I stood on our back porch.

“Hey!” I yelled, “I’ve asked you a hundred times to put the suitcases in the basement! And your tools have been sitting on top of the dryer for a month! Put them away NOW, you slob!”

He doubled over in laughter.

(Oh no. What will the neighbors think?)

33 Comments

Filed under funny, Words

You Met Your Husband Where? Online, Of Course

What’s more embarrassing than saying that you met at a bar? Admitting you met online.

Aidan at Ivy League Insecurities wrote a post the other day about where she and her husband met. And she is finally comfortable admitting that they met at the neighborhood bar. She wasn’t always comfortable. Vague references were often used, “Oh, we met in the neighborhood.” Which reminded me of myself. Only I’d say, “Oh, we met at a health seminar.”

Which was true.

Honest!

Cross my heart and hope to…..ok, well…..it’s sort of true.

I was married before. Quite young. To a man 10 years older than me. In my “oh so wise” early twenties I thought I knew myself, what I wanted, who I needed. I was so wrong. He was 31. Comfortable with who he was, what he wanted, what he needed. I was a baby – merely 21 years old. What did I know of love, life, marriage, myself? Nothing, as it turns out.

I grew. He didn’t. He had already grown. We were nothing more than roommates by the end of our 10 year marriage. With infertility testing and a beautiful baby girl adopted from Korea between us. We weren’t good for each other anymore and we were a horrible model of what marriage should be for our daughter. So we divorced.

Enter the internet.

What an amazing place! Chock full of interesting facts, figures and people. I enjoyed my online “friends.” But I like that they stayed, well, online. I had no desire to meet people face-to-face. I was a single mom. A teacher. Surrounded by students and colleagues all day long. Somewhat introverted, I LOVED my downtime. The peace and quiet of home. I dated a little but my primary focus was my daughter and my job. In fact, when my daughter was home I did not enjoy an active social life. Except for my Junior League responsibilities I rarely hired a babysitter for her. If she was visiting her dad, only then would I go out.

But my health – my gynecological health – had never been formerly diagnosed. Because I always knew I wanted to adopt, former-husband and I never pursued the whys of my infertility. I’d had troubles with my periods, tipped uterus, endometriosis since my teen years. I’d already been told I may have difficulty getting and staying pregnant. So, not a surprise when the difficulties began. But now I was a 32-year-old single mom. I still had irregular periods. Pain. I wanted to stay healthy to be able to raise my daughter. But the doctors could only suggest more tests and surgery. The tests and surgery required to find the answers, I wanted to avoid.

I poured over the internet. Absorbing information. Joining message boards. And I found an online chat regarding infertility. A panel of “experts” to answer your questions. I signed on at the appointed date and time. The rest, as they say, is history.

Interesting “speakers.” Interesting questions. Interesting answers. But none that really pertained to maintaining health. Just about all of the questions related to how to get pregnant. The questions I posed were largely ignored because the audience wasn’t really interested in my questions. My future-husband noticed this and private messaged me. He told me he had some information I might be interested in and to email him with specific questions. He’d get back to me.

And he did.

So our email friendship began. Writing about health. Writing about wellness. Then writing about books, movies and current events. Soon we were just writing. Every day.

This went on for about a year. And then there was a “live” health seminar in Atlanta. He was going to be there and would I join him for dinner? My heart went pitter-patter.

When I first laid eyes on him, when I first saw his beautiful blue eyes, I got this feeling in my heart that I was meeting my dearest, best friend from kindergarten and was just now seeing him all grown up. I don’t believe in love at first sight but there was definitely something to this first meeting in real-time. Something wonderful.

After our dates (we also went hiking – one of our favorite pastimes) he left to go back west where he lived. We went back to emails and now phone calls across the time zones. We made the effort to date long distance with visits back and forth. It wasn’t enough.

And since I wouldn’t tear my daughter away from her father, my future husband moved here.

So we DID meet at a health seminar.

Twice. Once online. Once at a convention center.

I met my husband online. And I can now proudly say, I’m so glad I did.

26 Comments

Filed under Relating