That said, the vast majority of those married-days-turned-into-years have been enjoyable.
Keep in mind that I'm not one of those wives who secretly rants and raves about her love life online.
Nay, I tell you.
I'm the wife who feels the need to type out everything she's already said to her husband who, tragically, must have suffered from sudden hearing loss that may or may not be remedied.
Now, I love my husband.
If I didn't love him, he'd be dead.
Not that I would've killed him...just, well... if I didn't love him, I'd maybe do or not do something that may or may not appear to the public as a most unfortunate accident.
All jokes aside, I have to tell you something.
My husband drives me CRAZY.
He literally makes me feel like I am mentally going off-my-rocker, sometimes.
Today- as a matter of fact, right NOW... Josh is doing one obnoxious thing after another and if he belches just one more time while playing his Xbox with that weird/stupid smile on his face, I'm going to SCREAM.
I undercooked the chicken/bacon wraps I made tonight and-
He just belched again.
No 'excuse me' followed, needless to say.
Where was I?
It's hard to think or type when gun shots and explosions errupt from your television and clicky-tappy-clicky noises are initiated by your husband's fingers clicking his game controller.
The worst, and perhaps most frustrating part of the current environment in which I sit at this laptop, is the fact that Josh doesn't seem to have any self-awareness or awareness in general of the reasons for my frustration.
Over the years, I have gained the understanding that my husband is not the only clueless man who thinks his wife gets upset about silly things.
THERE ARE MILLIONS OF THEM.
I hate to alarm you all, but the former statement is quite true.
Men are such simple creatures in comparison to the female population.
I envy and admire them secretively for this strength/weakness of character.
Let me explain my philosophy...
First, a definition of our subject's term:
Men: n., def: a term used by me to overgeneralize the odd/peculiar/unexplainable behaviors of my husband to the entire male species of human beings.
At first, I thought men varied quite a lot from one man to the next man. I still do, actually. It's just that I've come to notice some constant behaviors that do transfer from my husband's thoughts and behavior to the way most men think and behave.
Some guys are just worse than others. Mine is the least type of 'worse' among all men.
So, why in the world would dear and sweet, lovable Josh be driving mean old critical harsh wifey Regina so crazy, you ask?
BECAUSE.
HE DOESN'T THINK LIKE I DO.
It's really that simple, ladies.
Men don't think or process information the way that women do. It's evolutionarily, biologically, and cognitively impossible for a man to understand why his game's volume must be turned down when your mother calls you.
Also, men are born without an Fin-D gene. Yes, it's tragic and true, ladies.
Men lack the Fin-D gene, which makes them incapable of finding anything.
Every morning, at our house, within the past few weeks...
Join me for a typical morning at the Hodge home:
"Josh, it's time to get up!"
"myeeeeeEEEHHHHHH!"
"Really, Josh. It's 7:00 and your alarm already went off once. You need to get up and you told me to wake you up a while ago."
"Can you get me up at 7:30?"
"Sure."
I make coffee, walk our dogs, shower, and get ready, before an alarm I set to go wake up my snooze-button-hitter-husband goes off.
The worst part of our morning is when Josh tries to get ready, himself.
"Gina? Have you seen my belt? You know, the black one I wore yesterday?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Well, I can't find it."
"I think I put it back in your box."
"Thanks, Gina."
My husband has a box.
It's in our hall closet.
It's labeled, 'Joshy's box'.
In that box, shoes and belts, socks, tshirts, hair sculpt gel, whatever... is placed inside by a fairy who magically transports things like this from the living room floor back to where they belong.
All of this post may come off as sarcastic, snarky, resentful, or completely dramatic.
I don't care.
I don't have to care because, as a woman, I get to express my feelings more than society allows men to do.
I drive Josh crazy, too.
In his man-shaped-little-head, he thinks his reasons for my driving him crazy are as justified as mine.
It's kind of cute, really.
Marriage is all about compromise.
People say that, but they don't often tell you how much like hell that's going to feel like every now and then during your course of matrimony.
Marriage is a journey.
That's the truth.
Josh and I have accomplished all we set out to accomplish, within the time frame we planned.
Having children is next on my list.
He knows that already, so I'm not keeping any secrets here or sharing any that I haven't shared with him.
That's what keeps us together.
No matter how much the little obnoxious moments make me feel like pulling my hair out-
No matter how many times he doesn't rinse his shavings from the bathroom sink,
No matter how many times he leaves the dishwasher open for me to trip over,
No matter how much he loves video games that I think are stupid-
I love him.
What really makes a marriage?
Finding someone who drives you crazy-
intellectually challenges you, inspires you, drives you, motivates you, encourages you, supports you,
LOVES YOU.
LOVES YOU FOR YOU. - -
Flaws and all.
And Josh does that.
Unconditionally.
So, the fact that he burped again on the couch that sits in a room filled with gunshots and game explosions doesn't really matter now.
What matters is that I live to let him drive me crazy.
So, maybe we can conclude that it is I who am insane. :)
I love you, Josh.
Thanks for taking me as I am.
:) xo
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