That Time of the Month

Don't worry, this post isn't about blood or nasty girly things. I stumbled upon this online somewhere (don't remember, or else I would give proper and deserved credit!) and thought I should share it with everyone - guys and girls alike. I love this! Enjoy :)

Playing House

B and I don't live together. That would be waaaayy too much for both of us. But, we do spend a fair amount of time at each others' places. We cook for each other. I do his laundry and dishes sometimes (I do my laundry at his place because he has a washer/dryer...my apartment complex has 2 coin-op washers/dryers for 10 families to share). I do chores around his house and buy things for his kitchen. He does fix-it projects at my place. My TIVO is set to record some of his shows. I have a food/water dish for his dog in my kitchen. Basically, we're playing house.

Now, this version of "playing house" is a much more complex and serious version than the games we played with our childhood neighbors. There are emotions involved; we make decisions everyday that could affect the rest of our lives. Playing house as a 'grown-up' has much more serious consequences - both negative and positive. We enjoy spending time with each other, but we can also start to drive each other crazy. We get to see the best and worst of each other. And - I feel like my mom saying this - it's the first experimental step towards a life together.

Moving in with someone too early is one of those things that is horribly detrimental to a relationship. Chances are it would have ended sooner or later, but I've seen many couples move in too early and spend a majority of their relationship arguing and nit-picking rather than enjoying what the other has to offer. As anyone with a roommate knows, living with someone is the best and worst way to get to know someone. I've lived with my roommate for over 4 years, and we know more about each other than friends that we grew up with. My roomie knows me better (in both good and bad ways) than my best friend of 19 years. It's weird! Even the most blissful of couples can turn into enemies by making the move too soon.

Currently, I believe B and I are exactly where we need to be. We can see each other whenever we like, and if it becomes too much, we go to our separate spaces until we make plans to hang out again. We're comfortable and confident enough with each other to say, "You're making me f**king crazy. I'm going home to get away from you. I'll cook us dinner tomorrow. See you at 8, asshole!" It's not a fight, it's honesty - one of the most crucial components of a healthy relationship of any kind. We can tell each other when we're happy, sad, annoyed, worried, etc. There's no judgment. We're in a relationship to support each other, watch and help each other grow, and make our lives more full and meaningful by getting through this life as a team.

I told him last night he makes my life happier. He just smiled and hopped in the shower. This is just as satisfying of a response as him saying that I make his life happier, too. I've learned, by playing house, how to interpret his quirky remarks and actions. He doesn't say I love you, but he cooks for me and holds me close while I sleep. He doesn't ask me to move in, but I keep toiletries at his place and he asks me to share his bed with him. He doesn't say he wants me to bear his children, but he refers to me as (his dog) Miles' mom and himself dad, and trusts me to take care of his most valuable possession - another life. Our relationship/situation may be quite similar or drastically different from many couples; either way, we don't care. We're perfectly content with what we have and where we are at. For us, playing house without sharing house has brought us closer together. We have a healthy relationship and truly enjoy spending time together.

True, I miss the innocent days of 'playing house' in my backyard wearing mommy's apron carrying a doll around. However, growing up - despite the reality of responsibility - definitely has its privileges.

Barefoot and in the Kitchen

I love to cook. I'm not the best cook in the world, but I can make a decent meal. And by cooking I'm talking about actually preparing a home-cooked meal with a personal touch, not just following a recipe.



Coincidentally, my man loves to cook too. And he's not half bad either! He hates following recipes - he's very "stick it to the man" - and he loves experimenting with things. He doesn't have a passion for eating like I do, but he likes to prepare things and watch me eat. I love it!

So we've gotten into the habit lately of preparing meals for each other. It's one of the best ways to show someone how much you love them, honestly. It's a wonderful creative outlet, it's fun, and it feels great to do something for someone else! I love watching him take that first bite. Or sneak out into the kitchen to peek at my surprise dinner for him because it smells too damn good to stay away.

And when the meal is really, truly fabulous....you might even get an offer to do the dishes! I love doing dishes so I don't mind doing them when he cooks, and I usually wash them when I cook. But the point isn't the dishes. The point is, I made him so happy that he wants to do something nice for me. On top of a great meal, the returning of the fuzzy feeling tops off a great night. Plus, a late-night dessert (we're not talking about warm cookies or a scoop of ice cream) will usually follow! ;)

Cinderella, Cinderella

Today, it's time to clean up. My room is becoming a disaster, the carpet is collecting debris from outside, the oven has food stuck on it, and the porcelain in the bathroom no longer sparkles.

To most cleaning the house is a chore and a burden. Not that I'm much different than most, but for some reason, I really enjoy cleaning my house! The only exception to this is my room. I hate putting away clean laundry. It's one of those vicious circles: you take clothes out of your closet, you wear them, you toss them in your hamper, you wash them, you hang them back in your closet, just to take them right back off the hanger. It's annoying! Despite that one little chore, I do enjoy cleaning.

I especially love cleaning the kitchen. I'm not sure why, but doing the dishes and scrubbing the tile is relaxing to me. I'm like that stereotypical housewife who starts cleaning like a madwoman when I'm angry or upset. If my boyfriend says something to piss me off, I love him again after I clean the dishes and scrub the stove. If I had a bad day at school, I'll vacuum the carpet and feel refreshed. Somehow, cleaning a space of your house cleans the space in your mind as well.

Today I'm in a perfectly fine mood. I woke up feeling a little sick, but nothing disabling. Yes, the housework desperately needs to be done. But I don't mind doing it (except the clean clothes in the closet part). By the time I head to work tonight, I'll have accomplished quite a bit around the house. Not only will I have a tidy house, but a refreshed spirit as well.