If marriage was (more) like baseball

As many of my regular readers know, I am a long-time baseball fan. Specifically a New York Mets fan. (So I am used to disappointment.)

The spouse is also a Mets fan (albeit one who has been known to root for the Yankees). And we often watch Mets games together.

However, I often fall asleep before the end of Mets games. So when I wake up the next morning, one of the first things I do is turn to the spouse and ask "Did the Mets win?" Or, more often, "Did the Mets lose?"

There is also a Twitter feed called "Did the Mets lose?" for those who do not have someone sleeping next to them who watched the game. And, of course, you can always go to Mets.com to see what happened. Which is what I did this morning, which led to the following breakfast conversation:

ME: Mets won.

SPOUSE: 7-4 -- and Jon Niese [the starting pitcher] is on the disabled list.

ME: Well, I screwed up my shoulder again yesterday. Maybe you should put me on the disabled list, call up another wife from Triple A. Maybe a blonde or a redhead.

SPOUSE: (Laughing) Are we talking an inning or long relief?

This led to a (humorous) discussion, in the kitchen and then online, regarding whether or not I would be DFA'd, would go to rehab in Florida, or if I could request a trade. Which led me to think, What if marriage was (more) like baseball?

If marriage was like baseball....

* Spouses who were injured and were unable to perform their duties would be subject to going on either the 15-day or 60-day disabled list, at which time the non-injured spouse could elect to temporarily fill his or her roster spot.

* After three years of marriage, you could file for arbitration -- to get a better deal. ("How about you cook dinner three nights a week?" or "I want Thursday to be date night." or "You do the laundry [or clean or whatever] or I'm out of here.")

* After six years you could become a free agent, unless you decided to extend your (marriage) contract.

* If a spouse has been married for ten full years and in the same marriage for the last five, he or she could not be traded away without his or her consent.

Hmmm....

Love isn't blind. It's deaf.

As I have gotten older, I have come to realize that love isn't blind. It's deaf.

How else can you explain all those marriages where the women is an avowed Liberal Democrat and the husband is an avowed Conservative Republican (or vice versa)?

Or those marriages where the woman constantly nags and belittles the man, in public or in front of friends, putting him down or contradicting him?

Or those relationships where the man constantly insults the woman or completely ignores what she says?

Just watch an episode of HGTV's House Hunters or House Hunters International (which the spouse and I do, frequently). How else can you explain why these couples, who often have wildly divergent tastes and requirements and concepts of money, and disparage or ignore one or the other, are together? It must be because one or both are deaf. (Or she is, or was, gorgeous, and/or great in bed, or he's got loads of money or is a hunk.)

From personal experience, I know that being a little deaf can go a long way. How else can you explain the spouse and I being together for 23 years now? Of course, it could be my sparkling wit. (Lord knows it ain't my cup size.)

Anyway, what do you all think? Is love deaf? Or maybe some men and women have a mute button when it comes to certain things. Or their brains translate nagging or insults into words of endearment... or a request for beer.

[For more on this topic, check out my post titled "The Secret to Happiness." So true.]

How to have a better marriage (or relationship)

Introducing the Better Marriage Blanket!



(H/T to friend of the blog Powaqqatsi for sending me the link.)

Made from the same type of fabric used by the military to protect against chemical weapons!

And the Better Marriage Blanket, a beautiful, soft odor-fighting comforter that comes in beige or white, can be yours for the low price of $29.95 (plus shipping and handling)! That's one-tenth what it would cost you to cuddle up with a divorce attorney for an hour!

And while you're at it, why not consider the Brookstone Anti-Snore Pillow?



Not only does the Brookstone Anti-Snore Pillow prevent snoring, it turns your middle-aged, balding, paunchy spouse into a sexy, fit hunk with a full head of wavy dark hair! I think we'd all pay $99.95 (plus shipping and handling) for that ladies, yes?

(Full disclosure: The spouse purchased an anti-snore pillow a while ago, albeit not from Brookstone, and he still looks the same. He also still snores, though much less often, though that's because he discovered his septum was deviated and had it fixed. But I do think the anti-snore pillow helps with soft pallet issues, another cause of snoring.)

More on how to get him to stop snoring here.

Wishing you all a good night (and a better marriage/relationship)...

Does marriage and/or having kids make you stupid?

Or just forgetful? Or is it just old age?

Am I the only one who must write EVERYTHING down (to-do items, groceries, upcoming events) or risk running out of milk or sanity or underwear? (And no, that is not a rhetorical question. I really want to know.)

As I recall, back in the day (i.e., before getting married and then having my daughter), I never wrote anything down -- not phone numbers, not appointments, not groceries, not "remember to pick up the dry cleaning," nothing. Kept it all in my head -- and never forgot anything. Now? I keep a list in every room -- and constantly ask people to remember to remind me. (Though for some reason, I still know the lyrics to "Escape," aka "The Pina Colada Song," and dozens of phone and license plate numbers, many of people whom I barely know.)

Moreover, I often find myself blurting out utter nonsense that has nothing to do with the brilliant, well reasoned thought or statement I had meant to articulate.

So, is marriage and/or children to blame? (Always good to have a scapekid, i.e., a little scapegoat.) Or is it just old age?

While (briefly) researching this post, I could not find any scientific evidence that marriage makes you dumber (fatter? yes; happier? yes; dumber? no; though apparently sex makes you stupid, but considering how rarely most married people have sex, I don't think it applies). However, I did find this highly amusing article about kids making you dumber on Salon titled "Is my kids making me not smart?" which I am sure many of you parents can relate to.

Anyway, let me know your thoughts via the Comments.

She's leaving home... and I'm a mess

In a few hours the spouse and I will be taking our daughter to her sleepaway camp up in Massachusetts -- and I feel like my heart is going to beat right out of my chest. It is only for three weeks, and she had a great time there last summer (so much so that the day we picked her up she asked if she could go back the next summer), but still. We are both (my daughter and I -- not the spouse, who is still snoring away in the bedroom) a bit... anxious. Because. You know.

It also does not help that I am "hormonal." ('Nuff said.) But just a word to the wise, to all you guys out there whose children are or are going off to sleepaway camp, for the first or second or third time, and whose wives may be feeling a wee bit... tense or anxious: now is NOT the time to be picking a fight with her.

Case in point: Yesterday, after spending the better part of the day packing up my daughter, doing laundry and making sure she had everything she needed for camp, and feeling incredibly tense and anxious (even though I know she and I will both, eventually, BE FINE), the spouse casually mentions he wants to go to yoga class this morning. Which is FINE. Really. So I equally casually ask him to gas up his car on the way back from yoga class, as we have to drive around 400 miles today. (After we drop our daughter off at sleepaway camp we are going on a little roadtrip, to Cooperstown, the Adirondacks, and Montreal.)

Now the response to that simple request should have been "OK. No problem." Or something like that. Especially as he knows I am ALWAYS a wee bit anxious before a big trip, and am extra hormonal, because... you know. But instead he says, not-so-casually, "I have around half a tank. That's plenty to get us up there."

So I say, slightly less casually, "Okay. But could you please fill it up anyway, since you'll be out, so we don't have to stop later?" And he says, not casually at all, "J-------, my car gets, like, 500 miles to the tank, more. We'll be fine." And I say, gritting my teeth, "Honey, please, can you JUST GO FILL UP THE TANK ON YOUR WAY BACK FROM YOGA?! Please?"

He is about to argue with me, but I cut him off. "Sweetheart. When your wife is a near basket case because her one and only child is going off to sleepaway camp for three weeks AND is hormonally challenged, the correct response is 'Yes, J-------.'"

Again, he starts to bring up the fact that his car is a HYBRID and gets over 40 miles to the gallon and that we should be perfectly fine, when I cut him off again. "What did I JUST say, dear?!"

"Yes, J-------."

I am now off to make my daughter, who just got up (and woke the spouse up), breakfast.

I will have my laptop on the road, as well as my cameras, so I hope to post some nice pictures.