The 12th Little Fork

MG and I have a great relationship. We've been married for almost four years now and we are still very much in love and very happy together.



















I think we compliment each other very nicely. His calm, cool demeanor is balanced with my hyperactive maniacal anxiety. I have greatly benefited from his diverse knowledge and appreciation of music while I think he would agree that he has benefited from my ability to coordinate his work outfits.

Khaki pants with a khaki shirt? No. White button down shirt with faded blue windbreaker pants? Are you serious?

But like every couple - there are some things we still need to work on.

And with the risk of sounding absolutely crazy (which I admittedly am) let me tell you about one of the "sticky" areas of our marriage.


It has to do with what is allowed to leave the kitchen.


Let's say, for example, you were running late for work, so you decide to pack your cereal and eat it at your desk when you get to your office.

What would you do?

I would throw some cereal in Rubbermaid container, seal it with a lid, pour some milk into one of the 3,472 re-usable water bottles we own and grab a plastic spoon from the drawer.


What would MG do?

He would take the ENTIRE box of cereal, the ENTIRE gallon of milk, one of my precious Fiestaware bowls and one of the nice spoons from our expensive silverware set.


And then he would leave everything at work for 4 months.


So then next morning, when I go downstairs to eat breakfast - there will be no cereal and no milk in the kitchen.

Me: "Honey, where is the cereal and the milk?"

MG: "We ran out."





This has happened several times over the past four years. And list of things he has taken from the kitchen includes an entire NEW bottle of ketchup, a bottle of pancake syrup, a package of cheese, and countless dishes, spoons and forks.

And I don't mean stupid cheap-o plastic dishes. I mean the nice dishes and nice silverware!

Every few weeks, when I go to make a cup of coffee to take to work and complain about the 8 missing travel mugs he will make an effort to round up all of wayward dishes in his office.


Sometimes it takes TWO Wal-Mart bags to carry them all home.


So imagine my frustration when I found the Fiestaware butter spreader in the bag of dirty dishes he brought home a few weeks ago.

I then repeated my rant about not removing special dishes from our house. We have plastic knives that would have worked just as well!

The discovery of the butter spreader also prompted me to count all the cutlery.

There were 12 knives, 12 big spoons, 12 little spoons, 12 big forks and 11 little forks....

11? Uh oh.

I ask MG about the 12th little fork and he swears he doesn't have it. He SWEARS that it isn't in his office. I search the kitchen, the dishwasher, the couch but I cannot find the 12th little fork.

So through gritted teeth I mumble something about how he owes me a new set of silverware and threaten to stab him in the thigh if I DO find that little fork in his office...





Today, as I am running errands around campus I pop in MG's office to say hello. And as we are chatting I absentmindedly begin opening and closing his desk drawers.

What can I say? I'm nosey.

And in the third drawer a glint of silver catches my eye:

















Upon closer inspection I discover...
















the 12th little fork*






Now please excuse me while I drive MG to the Emergency room.**





*The tiny green spoon next to the little fork is one of Picklebug's baby spoons. I noticed this morning that some of the baby spoons seem to be missing. Of course, MG denied having any at work...

What grown man needs a baby spoon at work?





**No thighs were actually stabbed upon the discovery of the 12th little fork.

Update & random thoughts that didn't turn into posts

I've been at a loss in regards to what I could share with you. I know it's been a while since you've heard from me.


Sorry about that.


Besides our fun vacation to Ocean Isle, NC - not a lot has been going on.


MG got not one, but TWO awesome job offers last week. After weighing the pros and cons of each job, he will be starting his new job as an in-home counselor on August 9th. I'm especially excited for him to finally be doing work that he is really passionate about.

Picklebug is now eating all kinds of solid foods and is almost sitting up. He turned 6months old on July 16 and is learning new things every day. He especially loves his glowworm and his books. He sleeps 12 straight hours everyday and is pretty much the best baby ever.

I've taken up knitting once again and have been working hard on a baby blanket for Picklebug. If it turns out okay I hope to make another one for a friend who is expecting her first baby right around Pickle's birthday!

Of course none of this is particularly interesting or exciting - but it's better than some of the other things I wanted to tell you about.

Like how I cleaned my ears last Wednesday and was amazed at the amount of "stuff" that came out. (Seriously. I LOVE cleaning my ears and I was so tempted to take pictures of it and make a whole post out of it. Your welcome.)

Or how tired I am of hearing about who has money and where so-and-so went to school.

Snobs.

Or how I think my milk supply is drying up and I'm worried I'll have to, *gasp!*, switch to formula.

Or what I might consider doing for a tax-free cool million seeing as how I'm so broke right now that I only have $17.23 until my next paycheck.

Or how many times a day I think about calling my mom and telling her about some of these random thoughts.

Or how excited I am to eat pancakes for dinner tonight.











I'll save those post ideas for another day.

The Blue Ocean

Before I get rolling there are two things you need to know:

1. To date MG has lost TWO sets of car keys. Both sets belonged to me. I am still using the valet parking key as we haven't gotten around to getting me a key with the clicker thingy on it.

2. I've never been very good at remembering historical facts, or geographical facts, or any kind of facts really. If it weren't for "The Fifty Nifty United States" song - I would have been lost in fifth grade.


Why does this matter?


Let me start at the beginning.

MG and I firmly believe in sharing household responsibilities. We take turns doing dishes, laundry, bathing Picklebug, etc. But there are a few things that are permanently assigned. For example, I take care of dusting, vacuuming, decorating, and cleaning the bathrooms. These are things that I do my best to take care of on a regular basis. MG is responsible for scooping the kitteh litter, taking out the trash and getting the recycling to it's appropriate location. This breakdown works pretty well for us.

Except that the town only picks up recycling twice a month. And we can NEVER remember which two days they stop by to get it. So our patio has about three months of recycling piled up in the corner.

I think you can guess where I'm heading.

This morning started off well. Pickle Bug was unusually easy to occupy while we got ready for work, there was plenty of clean laundry from which to choose a work outfit and I even had enough time to eat some Raisin Bran.

But as we departed our condo I noticed the 15+ blue bags of recycling near the front door. I had a strong urge to grind my teeth but, in an effort to not spoil the morning commute, I chose not to say anything.

Until I noticed three weeks' collection of newspapers in backseat of the car.

So I had to say something to MG.

Just like a bag of Ruffles, I can't stop nagging once I get going. So after I mentioned the 5 tons of recycling on our porch, and the decade's worth of newspaper in our backseat, I also had to point out that he needed his haircut.

And finally, riding high on a wave of annoyance, I bring up my missing keys (and MG knows I'm mad when I bring up the missing keys).

MG then promises (cross his heart, hope to die, stick a needle in his eye) that today he will:

a) figure out what day the recycling is picked up so he can set our collection by the curb
b) take the newspaper to Walmart this evening
c) make an appointment for a haircut



But where are my keys? The Atlantic Ocean? Ugh.



Knowing that I have short attention span and that I love a good challenge prompts MG to change the subject by asking me if I can name all of the worlds oceans.


The following conversation then took place:

Jen: How many oceans are there? Seven?

MG: (rolling eyes) Yes. Seven. Can you name them?

Jen: Okay, well there is the Atlantic and the Pacific.

MG: Good. What else?

Jen: Um... the Indian Ocean?

MG: Yep! What else? I'll give you a hint - "The North Pole"

Jen: (scratching head... thinking...) The Penguin Ocean?

MG: No honey. Try again.

Jen: The Arctic Ocean?

MG: Right again! Just one more...

Jen: I know! I know! The BLUE Ocean!! But what about the other two...??

MG: *palm-slap-to-the-forehead*

Did I mention that I have a master's degree?



P.S. There are FIVE Oceans: Atlantic, Pacific, Indian, Arctic and Southern.

Yes, The Southern Ocean. Dumb right?

I think they should rename it: the Blue Ocean.

Fathers Day

As a tribute to MG's journey into fatherhood, I put together this little video highlighting some of the sweet moment's we've shared.

I would love to go into the hours, tears and array of curse words it took to figure out how to do this, but that would spoil the mood.

Hope you enjoy.

Dear MG,

Thanks for getting up at 7:02 am with Picklebug and letting me sleep in until 9:18. Thanks for making the bed once I finally rolled out of it. Thanks for hanging out in the bathroom while I showered and listening to me tell you about my dream in which I tried calling my mom using a chicken nugget. And thanks for hugging me when I got out of the shower all teary-eyed because I still miss mom every day.

Thanks for bringing me coffee and offering to make me pancakes.

Thank you for watching Picklebug from 11:30 to 1:00 and then again from 1:50-4:00 while I took care of things at work and went to the grand opening of the new craft store. I know he was sleeping most of that time but the fact that you were willing to hang out in case our house caught on fire was greatly appreciated.

Thank you for doing the dishes even when I told you not to worry about them. Especially the pot with the three-day-old-rice-crusties stuck to the side.

Thanks also for taking me out to dinner tonight. Fried shrimp + Apple pie = happy Jen. And thanks for taking me to WM afterwards and buying me a Sally Hansen french manicure kit. My toes are fabulous once again because of you. And thanks for carrying Picklebug around the store and keeping him happy while I looked at baby stuff.

Thank you for giving Pickle his bath and for reading him "The Shy Little Kitten" three times while I straightened up the house.

Thank you for making sure I was equipped with fresh apple juice, a bowl of cherries and some Reese's Peanut Butter cups before you went out tonight.

Thanks in advance for the fresh cup of water I know will be on the bedside table when I go up to bed. Thank you for the sweet things you will say to me when we cuddle before going to sleep. Thanks for sleeping on less than your half of the bed to make room for my extra pillows and Mr. Hippo.

And thanks for being willing to do it all again tomorrow.

I love you always and everydays.

~Jen

P.S. I love you again.

Drawrings

I have something special for you today!

I derive great pleasure from my sweet husbands attempts at drawing. So here is a little collection of drawrings he did just for you.

Below you will find a rabbit with a cactus in a wheelbarrow, a dinosaur eating an ice cream cone, a duck driving a pickle car, a fat ninja cat and of course, a butterfly pirate.

Isn't MG talented?



I'm thinking about spotlighting one of MG's drawrings each week. What do you think?