Just a random thought...

I was sending The Hubster a return text tonight, telling him to have a good evening at work. As I was ending the text with our standard, "I love you", I inadvertently typed "live", rather than love. I corrected it and sent it on it's merry way; yet, hours later, I find myself thinking about it still.

You see, I do "live" him. What else would you call it? Our individual lives are melded into one. I oftentimes pick up after him, much like one of our children. I care for him when he's sick. I listen to him when he needs to vent over a current frustration. I prepare his meals, clean his dirty laundry, and make sure he wakes up with his alarm. Raise and care for his children. I trip over his shoes on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and grumble about the washing machine full of loose change that I always find when he tries to help me by doing some of his own laundry.

Along the same lines, when something is upsetting me, he is the one I turn to. I always know that he will be even more upset than me; my very own Champion of Justice. He tolerates my incessant desire to decorate our home - even jumping right in up to his armpits and helping when I'm sure he'd much rather be golfing. He takes the time to go grocery shopping with me, telling me that it's not fair for me to have to do it by myself and that there's nowhere else he'd rather be. When I'm having a girly, "fat", day he pulls me in his arms, kisses my head, and tells me that he thinks I'm beautiful. Even when I'm wearing his baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt three sizes too large. He tries, in his own manly way, to care for me when I don't feel well...and takes it on the chin when I whine because the cheeseburger he brought me is not my idea of a cure for the flu.

You see, way back when...almost two decades ago...we were "in love". I still love him, but it's transcended now. Now I'm in LIFE with him...and from where I stand it just doesn't get much better.

Insert Catchy Blog Post Title Here...

Because I'm too sleepy to come up with one on my own. The Hubster and I had a great, fun-filled, weekend getaway to Cincinnati. We stayed in a full service hotel, so we didn't have to lift a finger. We just left the SUV with the valets and walked everywhere. We ingested WAYYYYY too much junky ballpark food. The Reds won (GO REDS!!), the weather was perfect, and the stress just kind of melted away.

Soon to be wall color in our guest room!

We're back home, now, and thus the work begins. I'm letting The Hubster sleep in a bit, right now, since we were up until after 1AM with post-trip hyperactivity. As soon as I finish this, however, I've got to get him awake and fed. Today we set the posts to move our outdoor building to a better spot. Right now the silly thing is about 4-feet off the ground, with stairs to get into it. Not optimal for storing lawnmowers and ATVs, huh? Since I'm helping him set the posts I'm enlisting his help this afternoon in doing paint prep in the oldest kiddo's room. (I need to come up with something else to call him now, since he'll be 21 in 7 months - perhaps man-child? - but, I digress.) He's coming home from college Friday, and I'm hoping to have his room painted beforehand. Keep you fingers crossed for me, as I'm attempting to cover a red wall with a sea glass colored paint (if you don't know what color that is, check out the image on this post!).

Oh, and I'm soooo proud of myself. I got everything from the trip unpacked and put up last night! No small feat, I assure you. Here's the way our evening played out, after we got home yesterday:

1. Arrive home at 5PM.
2. Throw the luggage in the house, all while yelling at the youngest kiddo to get his baseball gear on. (Game was at 6PM, but batting practice was due to start at 5:15)
3. Pack a cooler of water, strawberries, and pineapple (and Gatorade for the ball player!) to snack on. 
4. Make a couple of travel mugs of coffee to keep us coherent.
5. Dash out the door, making it to the ball field just in time for warm-ups at 5:45PM (WOOPS! Missed batting practice, but at least he got there, right?).
6. Tell the coach that we'll be back, then run up to my Parentals' house to retrieve our dog and the youngest kiddo's gear from his stay (This included a middle of the road, Chinese Firedrill that was giggle-inducing!).
7. Dash back to the game with the dog, arriving at 6:30PM.
8. We won the game by mercy rule, so we were done at 7:40PM, at which time we had to head to the store to pick up sandwich making goodies for dinner (What? Like I was going to cook after all of this?!).
9. Arrive home just before 9PM. The Hubster got sandwich stuff out and ready, I put groceries up and unpacked, and the kiddo did his chores and took a shower.

See what I mean? Now you know why The Hubster and I were up until 1AM...it took as that long to wind down! Well, it looks like it's time to dash. Got egg whites and crumpets to nom, work clothes to don, cement and paint to buy, a garden to fertilize, posts to set, and paint prep to do. Crikey, I'm tired just thinking about it!