Do I have a lot to post about?  Yes.  I do.  We spent 3 days with family out of town, we ate a Thanksgiving dinner that included 2 kinds of turkey, one honey baked ham, and one dish of rabbit (no lie).  I experienced Black Friday Shopping for the first time.  Our Christmas decorations are begging to be put up, but only the Nativities are.  I spent an undisclosed amount of money on candy for gingerbread house making… my husband came with me to shop for gingerbread house candy for the first time this year and he was appalled that candy cost so much.  He tried to cheapen my house, something I wouldn’t allow in the least.  We’ll go without FOOD before letting the gingerbread house suffer the effect of the recession.  It doesn’t deserve to hurt -it’s so pure.

But what I’m going to tell you today is that my husband took some time yesterday to play outside with the children.  I was trying to get the house clean because it was the day after Thanksgiving.

We had gotten home from visiting family at 10 pm on Wednesday night.  We unpacked the car and then poured into bed.  I fell asleep without even so much as removing a contact.  We woke up Thursday morning, and I opened my computer to check out Amazon’s lightening deals.  After buying season 4 of The Big Bang Theory for $12 (or was it $10?) and a few other things so I could get free shipping… I told my husband I needed to get into the kitchen and start cooking.

“I could really use your help,” I said.  He looked around the living room at the unzipped-crap-flowing-out-of suitcases and the piles of laundry that had been laundered and left unfolded before leaving on our trip, and he proclaimed that HE WOULD CLEAN while I cooked so we wouldn’t have to clean the house the next day.  I thought about telling him the truth about cleaning… about how it wouldn’t make a BIT of difference and how we would end up cleaning the next day anyway, but he was determined.  I resigned myself to the kitchen and began cooking, cutting, thawing, and baking.  I watched as my husband tried to clean.  I have to say: it was sweet of him.  But watching a man try to clean a room that really requires the skills of a master multi-tasker (a WOMAN) was really trying.  I really needed help peeling potatoes, and it seemed like every crayon my husband picked up grew two heads and slipped from his fingers back onto the carpet.

As we walked out of the door to join my family for Thanksgiving dinner, our hands LOADED with food (and the ugliest pie you’ve ever seen.  Pie is my nemesis), my husband remarked, “It doesn’t look like I cleaned at all.”
Nope, nope, it didn’t! But it sure looked like I COOKED all alone for 4 hours in my kitchen.

The next day, we woke up and (what else?) CLEANED. I went for a pathetic run… really, it was the saddest little thing, but at least I went! I came home and joined everyone in the kids’ room for a mass cleaning and then I set to making breakfast while my husband folded the laundry that was still strewn across BOTH couches. Have I ever told you how much my husband likes to WASH laundry but how much he dislikes folding it? I finally spoke up, like a spoiled brat. I told him I appreciated that he loved washing, but he was taking all the FUN out of laundry for me. He did the part that made you feel important and accomplished and always left me with an eternal pile on the couch to fold and put away… a job that makes you feel insignificant, mundane, boring and a little fat. The button pushing and machine loading part? MUCH more fulfilling. I asked him to please either STOP washing or START helping fold.
He’s done a little of both.
Yesterday he folded while I made breakfast at 1 pm. Eating a breakfast of honey baked ham and fresh fruit at 1 pm is just… sublime. It really makes it feel like a holiday, you know? Plus, by 1 the kids were so hungry that they ATE ALL OF THEIR FOOD which is really something.

After breakfast, we had to get the entire house cleaned up before we would let ourselves get our Christmas decorations out. I wasn’t about to do it alone -as I had done the day before in the kitchen -no way… I needed help cleaning the mess I didn’t make. I put a movie on for the kids (who really had done their fair share by mucking out their room all morning) and my husband and I set to cleaning.
Eventually, the kids got sick of their movie and started throwing stuff around… because, well, why not? I got sick of their throwing stuff around and announced that SHOES WOULD BE PUT ON and COATS WOULD BE GOT ON and THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY OUTSIDE.
So they did. A few minutes later, my husband took something outside.
“Hurry back,” I teased, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
On his way back inside, he got distracted playing soccer with the children. I listened to them outside, cheering for dad, clapping, laughing, giggling… He handed the soccer ball to the girl and told them he needed to get back inside to help Mama clean.
“Stay, Dad!” She begged, “Just PLAY with us!”
“Maybe when I’m done cleaning,” he said as he walked away. I met him at the door and ordered him back out.
“Go back out there and PLAY with your children,” I lightly shoved his back.
“But I thought you needed my help,” he looked back.
It’s no wonder we confuse men… just when they think they’re doing what they ought we go and prove them wrong. No, no, don’t DO WHAT I SAY… just DO what I SAY!
And what I say is, “Go outside. and PLAY.”

He readily agreed, leaving me to clean the house (you guessed it) all by myself. As I ran around the house putting things away and straightening this and that, I peaked outside and saw my kids waiting next to a growing pile of leaves.

Once they were given the all-clear they launched their little bodies into the pile.

Lying down in a pile of leaves makes you extra vulnerable… something dads just LOVE.

What do moms love? This:
My husband’s hotness speaks for itself. Holy gorgeous.
What do kids love? Kicking a perfectly good pile to pieces.

Today is going to be filled with more cleaning (the kids went a little crazy with the Christmas decorations -most of which we can’t put up because we’re getting a REAL tree this year which means all of the ornaments are wrapped in newspaper and sitting in a box that the kids just CAN’T leave alone) and then a little gingerbread house making and decorating.
But first? I’ve got a sad little run to go on. Wish me luck.


  1. “He did the part that made you feel important and accomplished and always left me with an eternal pile on the couch to fold and put away… a job that makes you feel insignificant, mundane, boring and a little fat. ”

    Pure poetry. Holy laugh-out-loud-crappiness. Yess’m.

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