How to Not Kill Your Husband 101

I’ve been trying to figure out for the past few weeks how to write this in away that won’t be held against me later on in court, in the strange event that something does actually happen to my husband and for some reason it looks like I did it. Let me preface by saying: I don’t ACTUALLY want to kill my husband. I think that sometimes I get so irritated with him that I think I want to kill him, but I don’t. He’s just happens to be irritating me at that particular point in time and I don’t know how to handle it.

Is this what marriage is? Dealing with someone whom you love so much, yet at the same time can’t stand the sight of, but yet if they weren’t around you’d be sad? Just me? Probably. Lorenzo irritates me sometimes. Half the time I don’t know why, but I just really understand why some women keep cast iron skillets in the house. They are not just for grilled cheese sandwiches. I don’t even know if he knows that I want to strangle him sometimes. I think he does though…I can’t hide my facial expressions.

I asked my sister if she ever felt this way with her fiancé. She agreed. She said she really wants to kill him sometimes, but then she knows she’ll be pissed at him for actually dying so she doesn’t chance it. I remember having dinner one night with another couple, I am not even sure what happened but one minute everything was cool and then the next thing I know my friend is calling her fiancé annoying. He asked what he did, she said, “You’re breathing. You breathing annoys me. Ughh, you’re so annoying.” After a minute, Lorenzo laughed. I looked at him like he was crazy and said, “What are you laughing at? You’re annoying too.” I had to ask my friend who’s been with her husband for a total of 20 years how she doesn’t kill her husband every week. Her answer, with no hesitation: lots of prayer.

Am I just crazy? Seriously, that’s a real question because its like, one minute I love, love, love him, he’s #BAE, and he can do no wrong; and the next I want to throw things at him. Or vice versa; he’ll purposely do things to get under my skin then turn around and be super sweet (usually in the form of getting me food). Maybe I’m just hungry. I don’t know. And I’m about 175% sure I get on his last nerve as well, but if I ask he’ll probably feel like I’m trying to set him up or something, so I’ll never get an honest answer. On a good day.

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Image credit

 

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Shout Out My Husband for Being Awesome

I swear that my husband is the most patient man on the planet. He has to be. He’s always calm and even when he is frustrated he doesn’t raise his voice. He’s never overly emotional and he so far above any pettiness that its inspiring for me to stop worrying about things and opinions that don’t matter. But of all that, most importantly, he puts up with me. Every. Single. Day.

Sometimes I feel like I am a walking train wreck. Other times, I feel like I have it all together and I’m the shit and you can’t tell me otherwise. There are days when I get so caught up in my own madness that Lorenzo will stop and ask me, “What are you thinking about?” because my emotions ALWAYS show on my face. Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I never met him. Would I have ever giving up this ridiculous pattern of dating men who obviously didn’t want the same things I wanted? Would I have ever fallen in love again? Would I have ever gotten married?

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Honestly, about a month before I met Lorenzo I’d decided that I was just going to be single for the rest of my life. It wasn’t that I was refusing to date, I just didn’t think there was a man out there for ME-someone who could be compatible with me and my personality that I actually wanted to spend my life with who didn’t get on my nerves. I was even super skeptical of Lorenzo when we met, and it didn’t help that the first 8 months we were dating one of my co-workers almost had me convinced that he was going to kill me (she’s since given up on that idea but I haven’t, he IS a Marine for crying out loud).

Anyway, I’m grateful and blessed and happy to have my husband. He’s taught me so much about who I wanted to be, just by being himself. His maturity level is on 98 (he has his petty moments), he taught me what it feels like to have someone take care of me without wanting anything in return. He holds me accountable, challenges me, and doesn’t tolerate any of my crap. He’s never disrespectful and his communication skills are immaculate. Having a chance to know the people in his circle has helped me pick better friends- his friends actually help each other in times of need, there is no drama, and they all take care of each other. Its really something to strive for. He’s always really warm and he massages my scalp if I ask. He knows how to cook and doesn’t get all bent out of shape if I want to go shopping.

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Don’t get me wrong, there are times where we end up on the wrong side of each other’s attitude, like when we went to Pappadeaux and bought gumbo and he took mine to work… (*sigh*) but, so far, its nothing we can’t handle. So…shoutout to him.

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Why My Dad is the Coolest

So I was having a conversation with my father a few weeks ago, and he just reminded me of all the reasons why I always thought he was so cool. My parents had me pretty young; they were barely out of high school at the time. I didn’t realize how young my parents were until I entered college and all of my friend’s parents were 10 and 20 years older than mine. Anyway, I was talking with my Dad about if he would let me take care of him if he’d ever gotten to the point that he couldn’t take care of himself. I asked him if he would trust my decision-making skills when it came to his health and his affairs. He said, “P, I’ve trusted your judgment since you were five years old. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me so yes, I would let you take care of me.”

He says this now, but I remember a time when we almost got into a fight when I wanted to take him to the eye doctor to get his vision checked. He acted like I was taking him to get a seeing eye dog when it turned out all he needed was reading glasses…but I digress. One thing I’ll give him (and my mother) credit for was that they always just encouraged us to be ourselves, whatever that might be. They never tried to force their personal agendas on us.  All my parents wanted for us was to accomplish certain things: graduate high school, go to college, don’t have kids, stay out of jail. Pretty simple list.

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Dad and I (early 80’s and 2015)

My father’s direction growing up was all about school. Up until I entered college all I heard from him was, “Books and boys don’t mix,” and “You don’t need any friends, you need to know your school work,” When I started dating, like for real dating, he pretty much left me alone. I was with a guy for about five years in and after college. My dad never really said much about the relationship, and he was always nice to my ex, so I found it a little surprising when I told him that we were having problems and he basically told me I didn’t have to put up with it. That’s when I knew he was only nice to my ex because he thought I was happy. Once it showed that I wasn’t, he was completely supportive of my decision to break up with him (and he took it as a personal opportunity to roast my ex- yes, my father can be very petty at times). I knew then that I could talk to him about anything.

 
Because he’s a pretty simple guy, my siblings and I try to take him out to different places to do and try different things. He isn’t very accepting of change; up until about 2009 he still walk around with a cassette player until my sister got so fed up she bought him an iPod. We did the same thing with a smart phone and a tablet. The only high tech stuff he likes is music equipment and video games, so we always pitch in and buy him tech related gifts for his birthday (much to my step-mother’s protest). My next biggest challenge is getting him to visit me here in Atlanta. He hates to fly, and I’m trying hard to convince him that it’ll be so much easier to spend less than 3 hours on a plane than spending 15+ hours in a car.

Wish me luck.

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Dad and I (on a random outing)

 

 

 

Book Review: Me Before You

*Disclaimer. This post contains spoilers to the book.*

I started seeing commercials for the movie Me Before You in passing maybe a few weeks ago. I’d never heard of the book, so I had no interest in seeing the movie. It just seemed like a really cheesy love story, and those are not my “thing”. So how did I end up reading the book? Well, a friend of mine was doing an online book exchange on Facebook. How it works is that you “like” the post of the person who is already participating, they will send you a message with an address of a friend of theirs. You have to either send them a book you are not using anymore, or you can order one from Amazon and have it mailed directly to the person. It didn’t have to be anything expensive, just a book of your choosing. Included in the email is your friend’s address. You have to take their address and pass it on to anyone that likes your status about the book exchange. You also have to give them your address so their friends can send you a book (confused yet?).

So I sent the person I was assigned 3 books and I received Me Before You from someone else. Let me start off by saying that I loved the authors writing style. Even though where was some English jargon that I had to translate (lift= elevator, loo = bathroom/ toilet, etc.) the writing was easy to follow. I love books written in the first person because it helps me feel like I’m part of the story as opposed to being told the story by someone else. The majority of the book is in first person from the main character, Louisa Clark’s, point of view. There were some chapters from a few other characters as well, but they didn’t disrupt the flow of the story, well at least not for me.

I thought Louisa and her sister Katrina were both immature for their ages, and Katrina was kind of a bitch. I was pretty bothered at first because I think I took it a little personal. I remember thinking to myself more than once, “Oh, Louisa, grow up” but once I got out of my feelings and remembered it was just a story I got over it. I didn’t understand how a 26- year-old, ex-waitress with no real medical skills, or any skills at all for that matter, got a job to take care of a quadriplegic man, but again, it’s just a story. I didn’t know how much quadriplegics went through as far as medication, illnesses, pain, and travel before reading the book. I think the descriptions were detailed but not confusing or convoluted. Some of the story was kind of predictable though: grumpy man hates girl, they have a fight, he starts being nice, and they fall in love…blah, blah, blah.

Louisa was a woman on a mission who was doing all she could to try to convince Will, that his life was worth living even though he was immobile. She never stopped to ask him what he wanted (it was a secret apparently) and became way too emotionally involved. Toward the end of the book, I didn’t want Will to die either, but I tried to put myself in his shoes (something Louisa never did) and tried to think about constantly being in pain and having to depend on others to do literally everything for you. As I read, I became more and more curious as to how the book would end. A woman I sat next to on the flight to Jersey told me I was going to be in tears towards the end, but I just got a little misty eyed- no tears.

I will say that I enjoyed reading it; it wasn’t disappointing. I think it has made me more interested in seeing the movie now, (but I’ll wait until it comes out on Redbox). Others who have read the book felt like the book was sending a message that a disabled life is not worth living, but I didn’t feel that way about it. I felt it was more about personal choices and being able to make decisions for yourself no matter what situations you are going through in life. I’m not an advocate for suicide; however, I just try not to judge.

If anyone has read the book / seen the movie, please share your thoughts. And if anyone is interested in learning more about the book exchange, let me know, and I’ll update this post with the info.

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