Great (and Realistic) Expectations

I'm attempting to write this post with both girls between my legs napping. It's POURING down something that resembles hail. I had to turn my heater on. IN MAY. What the deuce?

I did, however, make it to the theater with my favorite coworker and her husband to see "Something Borrowed." Such a cute movie with some hysterical laugh out loud parts (John Krasinski is absolutely perfect and totally steals the show). It was about halfway thru that I realized the movie was based on a book that I was familiar with but haven't read. May have to mosey on over to Amazon to see if I can find it for my Kindle.

It was a chick flick and while sitting in the theater feeling my heart swell with hope and a lump in my throat when the hope was dashed, I realized how much my own marriage has shaped the way I think about other relationships, even fictional ones. On Tuesday, Husband and I will have two years of marriage under our belts. After the first six months of unrealistic expectations (who knew he didn't want to snuggle up on the couch after a ten hour day in 110 degree heat and watch "Singing in the Rain"??) and tears (to this day I haven't attempted fried potatoes again), we finally got into our flow. He doesn't expect me to do his laundry and I don't expect him to clean the hamster's cage. We do expect honesty (although I have to say I love him a little more when he eats something that has turned out badly) and forgiveness.

We trade off taking the girls out to go potty and I can't tell you how mushy my insides were the day I came home and Husband had washed all the blankets in the apartment and had wrapped Mandie up like a burrito in one while it was still warm. Biggest turn on EVER. There are those moments where I have wanted to stick his head in the oven and where I grate on his nerves. Thankfully, they are getting fewer and further between. We're not always madly deeply professing our love to each other, but I can safely say I have never felt unloved. We're not that couple who kiss and hold hands in public, but he never begrudges me a picture and shares his pop with me in the mall. His new favorite shirt says "Save a Life, Grope Your Wife" (mine has a garden gnome on the front and says "Hanging with my gnomies"; just saying...). As our time apart winds down, I'm looking forward to his killer scrambled eggs and sleeping with our legs tangled together again. Oh and sex (yeah I said it and look, I wasn't struck by lightning).

So happy anniversary Husband; I couldn't have done it without you.

Burrito a la Mandie