Sleepy Weekend

Saturday, I woke up to hubby licking my face. Ugh! I hate when he does that. You know, I know that we've exchanged body fluids for years and that if anyone were to lick me, it should be him (since he's licked everything else...sorry, TMI) but, I still hate it. Anyway, he was just getting off work and getting dressed in his painter duds, in order to start work on the living room.

I rolled myself into the living room and watched him clear out the majority of the furniture. This included our 3, 6.5ft DVD stands, the coffee table and glass, the 52" t.v., the end tables and lamps and the DVD player. He moved the couch and love seat to the center of the room, then proceeded to wipe down and clean (prep) the walls. This took an hour and a half, then the actual painting began. His friend was over to learn, more than help and hubby seemed happy to have the company.

So, now my living room is Ivory with a beautiful, burgundy accent wall. It really makes the room pop. I love it! I can't wait for him to finish up with the border on top (which he hopes to get done in the next couple of days), but we'll see. There's a lot going on with work and the potential of me giving birth sometime this week. Will it happen? Huh! I just don't even try to guess anymore.

With all the homework going on, hubby and I are trying to figure our our plans for our anniversary, too. We actually celebrate the day we first got together, which was January 11, 1997 (9 years ago). I can't even believe it! It's a sweet story that I don't think I've shared on this blog, but will do so now. If it gets too sappy, feel free to page over.

In the fall of '96, I had placed myself on a self proclaimed man-strike. Why? Because, I was sick of their garbage, sick of their drama, sick of not being able to find one worth anything and just plain sick of men altogether. They were the bane of my existence and I wanted nothing to do with them. Thankfully, I wasn't so disgusted that I had to switch teams, but I have known people to do so. Anyway, the man-strike actually turned out to be wonderful for me. I did a lot of self improvement...I spent a lot more time writing and working on school projects (I was a senior in college, at the time) and more time with my friends and sorority sisters doing all sorts of service projects and good work in the community. One of the nice side-effects to all of this was a ten pound weight loss. I really felt and looked better than I had in a long time (but still wanted nothing to do with men).

Hubby and I had met when school started for me in the fall of '93. We tried to get together then, but I was a very "talkative" freshman, which inevitably destroyed any chance of us possibly getting together. After '94, hubby left school to take care of personal issues. I had friends who knew where he was in Nashville. We even ran into each other a couple of times, but it was the "pleasantly polite" syndrome that made being around him difficult.

One early morning in December of '96, I got a phone call. It was about 3ish and I had an 8:00 class coming up. I was none too happy to get a call this early; however, my mother always insisted that we take phone calls no matter what the time. She always said, "You never know what somebody may need." So, against my better judgment, I picked up the phone. It was him and it was weird and wonderful, all at the same time. He called to tell me that he felt we'd had a connection and, despite all the drama from years past, he still felt like we should have been together. He openend his heart about his feelings for me and how he harbored them for so long. We discussed this and other details about our lives for the next several hours (yep. I missed my class). After this phone call, we made plans to see each other. I would be going home (to Utah) for the Christmas break and he wanted to see me before I left. The night before my departure was total and utter bliss! He made me feel like the most special person on earth. I kept thinking, "Why me?" and "Maybe this is a mistake or a joke or something." But, it wasn't. He truly adored me and because I'd been on the "hate men" cycle for so long, it took a bit for me to absorb what was happening.

We communicated through the holidays...he would call two sometimes three times a day (his long distance bills completely out of control). When I returned from Utah, he had beautiful Christmas gifts for me and (it appeared) a heart full of love. I was still a little jaded, but I started to open up more with each phone call and each visit. On January 10th at around 11:30pm, we were talking on the phone when I broke down my walls and told him I loved him. We celebrate this day as the day we became "a couple". One year and three months later, we were married but we both felt we were ready to marry long before then. I am, however, glad that we waited.

Wednesday is the big day and it's going to be more low-key than in the past, what with the bed rest and all. I'm still excited, regardless. We can truly say that we have history together and both he and I appreciate how far we've come. Even though the road can get ultra rocky, we hold fast to our memories, to our respect for each other and our love. He is still my heart.