Monday, November 5, 2012

Expectaciones Nonnes

So....this weekend was our fifth wedding anniversary. After five years of marriage, I'm a fountain of marital wisdom, equipped with volumes of advice to pass down to future generations. I could write a soliloquy. But, honestly, everything I learned can be summed up in two words. So, do ya want to know the secret to marital bliss?

No Expectations.

Or, in Latin: Expectaciones Nonnes. Ok, I made that up. But it sounds good, right? Yes, the lack of expectations is a wonderful thing. It will save you every time. It's hands down, the best gift you can give yourself.

See, in the past, I made the mistake of actually expecting things for anniversaries. You know, like cards. Or flowers. Or power tools. You can file that last one under "Things I've Learned About Men From My Dad."

This year, I didn't expect anything more than a "Happy Anniversary" text as I woke up at 8am on Saturday morning to discover that my husband was gone for work training all that day and never even bothered to let me know. And that's precisely what I got.

Funny thing is, I didn't even care. Sure, when given the option, everyone would prefer to be doted upon and showered with attention and gifts. But when you're scrubbing baby spit up out of the carpet, trying to coax your kid out of chewing a booger he just picked, and getting lost under a never-ending pile of piss-soaked sheets, romance kind of is lost on you. In such a situation, a five minute, solitary soak in a pink ring-stained tub in a bathroom smelling of mold that temorarily houses an array of poop and spit-up covered clothing, is the equivalent to a $200 meal at a five star restaurant....without all those pesky calories.

So that night, I made tacos for dinner. My husband's favorite. Then I half-assedly scrubbed a sink full of smelly dishes. Then we watch an episode of Boardwalk Empire. And by 12am I was in my bed, separated from my husband by a kicking, eyeball clawing, hair pulling rascal who had suddenly decided sleeping was for "other" babies.

That's pretty much what they mean when they say "happily ever after," right?

Expectaciones Nonnes.

Yeah.

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