Our Divorce Court proceedings would now go like this: “Your Honor, I present to you, ‘The Great Magazine Fight of 2012′”

About a year or two after Madison went off to college, Mark and I found that we had pretty much moved into a comfortable Sunday morning routine:  I read the Dallas Morning News pretty much cover to cover, except for the Business and Sport sections.  While, the latter mentioned sections are all Mark cares to scan.  And then, when quickly done, he watches all the Fishing shows that he has accumulated throughout the week.  The background noise on the fishing shows on Sunday mornings is so in-grained into this routine that when it is not there now, something feels out of place.

One Sunday morning stands out, because of a surprise knock down, drag out that occurred:

First let me say, Mark and I do get snippy with each other.  Who doesn’t?  However, after 30 years of marriage – for the most part we’ve pretty much settled down, grown up, given up or are just don’t have the energy to care passionately about the things we use to – so when a real fight happens with raised voices.  Wow – it must have been rather serious. 

The background on this spat: I’m a devout People Magazine reader and can’t wait for the magazine to show up in my mailbox every Friday.  I’ve been reading it for years, which accounts for why I cannot answer basic trivia questions like, “Who was the president during the Civil War?”, but can tell you what shoes Duchess Kate was wearing while she delivered the future King of England, recently.

The answer: “The LK Bennet Sledge Shoe in color – Nude”… (Okay, don’t really know what Kate wore, but that is her go-to shoe for major events.)

Mark on the other hand reads B.A.S.S. Master, of course and the occasional AAOP Flight  magazine.  When he became an empty nester, he got his pilot’s license and his whole goal now while flying with me is to “not allow the bitch to come out” because of some surprising manevour he does that I am not anticipating (another story for another day).

On a recent Sunday morning, Mark came reeling into the breakfast area from the garage with a Pilot magazine rolled up and clutched in his hand yelling, “WHY is THIS in the recycling bin?!?!?!?!”  Rather surprised, I answered, “Well, because I’ve seen that particular magazine sit on the coffee table for few weeks without being read.  So, when I cleaned house this week, I tossed a few of those out and when this new one came in, I just tossed it, too.  Why?”

“Do I ever throw your People Magazines away?!?!”

“Of course not, but you know I read them.  I don’t’ see you reading yours!”

“Do me a favor, don’t throw away any more of my Pilot magazines without asking, okay?!?!”…

“Oh-Kaaay…” (insert eye roll here)

I finished my Sunday newspaper ritual, walked to the recycling bin in the garage to dispose of it and I’ll give you one guess as to what I found on the very top in the recycling bin?

You guessed it, My Own CURRENT issue of PEOPLE MAGAZINE!  Hahahahahah!  I couldn’t help but march into the living room with said People Magazine and laugh my butt off with Mark in a fake fight about it all at that point…

You gotta laugh… but don’t tell the judge….

My Husband Refuses To Go To Rehab With Me!!

First, I’d like to say that the title to this blog is absolutely, 100% true!!
Mark actually refuses to go to rehab with me because he feels, in his words – “too shy having me witness him go through his therapy while I go through my own”…

Okay, here is the deal:

Mark had a level 2 fusion of his lower spine a month ago. In layman terms, he had two artificial disks put in, with his own stem cells and they are fusing the disks together like in marriage, until death he does in-fact part. Not something you go into without seriously thinking it over. The benefits… The Risks… Do you want to be joined forever?…

He is undergoing physical therapy because of this and will be doing so for some time. I’m happy to report that he is thankfully doing better than ever. We are really glad he went through with it.

4 days after he got home from the hospital, he decided that “we” need to clean the pool. Now, we have a professional guy come out once a week to do this task, but he felt “we” needed to go out and take things into our own hands. 4 days after coming home from ICU, he could barely walk, get out of a chair much less clean a pool. So, the “we” meant – him sitting in the cabana with the ceiling fan going and the TV on, while I brushed the pool in the sweltering heat and got the areas that he noticed I was missing… I was surprised he could notice much at all with that much Vicodin going through his veins. My guess was that he really needed to feel like he was being productive, so I was determined to be patient and was just happy he felt like going outside.

30 mins before our professional Pool guy showed up and CAUGHT us in the act of doing HIS JOB, I missed a step while brushing the bottom of the pool and fell from the upper deck of our pool, to the lower deck. The force of hitting the pool step was so strong that it broke my sandal and sprained my foot, as I carreaned off the ledge; my knee then slid along the rock coping leaving a large apple sized contusion-slash-scrape on my knee; I then landed on my back shoulder with such force that pain pierced me immediately to the core and then finished off the “falling event” with a knot on the back of my head behind my ear. Thankfully, my head hit the grass and not the patio. All areas affected – were on the right side of my body.

Mark did not see the trauma event happen because he was watching TV, but he did hear it and came shuffling slowly over, asking me if I needed help. Now, he cannot pick up anything heavier than a gallon of milk for at least 6 weeks. The offer was sweet, but we both knew I was on my own. It was one of those falls in which you don’t get up right away. You check out extremities one at a time to make sure that they won’t go “compound fracture” on you if you stand up. I limped to the kitchen, got a large cold gel pack and another give away cold pack that said (ahem) “Botox” on it, limped back to the cabana and rested during which time the Pool Guy shows up.

Mark and I had considered letting him and his services go, as we felt we could do this on our own easy enough. But, now we embrace him and his services 100% and are so glad when we catch him in our backyard. Happily writing our monthly check to him putting a smiley face and a big “THANK YOU!” in the “memo” section.

2 weeks pass, I was resting my shoulder et.al., taking Advil, not doing my P90x2 and all was going well until I vacuumed the house this last Monday. My shoulder went back to square one so badly that Mark offered and I actually illegally and happily – took one of his Vicodin and made an appointment to see our family’s shoulder and knee Orthopedic surgeon, ASAP. Yes, our family has one. If you remember, we had 2 daughters in soccer for 15+ years???? I rushed to see him and he prescribed physical therapy and prescription strength nsaids.

I came home to tell Mark that thankfully there were no breaks. I had worried as I sheepishly came into the Orthopedist’s office that they would end up talking about “that late 40s female wack-a-do patient who came in with a combination neck and shoulder fracture 2 weeks post injury” during their next office meeting.

Anyway, I casually asked Mark when he had his PT scheduled and where, as I thought I’d just do my neck and shoulder rehab at the same time as he does his back PT. I thought maybe we could “bond over a mutual activity”, something that has helped throughout our marriage – a series of mutual activities that we can discuss, talk about, explore, because if we don’t – I end up reading book after book while he watches Rangers games and Fishing shows… Anyway, to my surprise Mark vehemently said “not only no but HELL NO!” When I asked (shocked) what the big deal was, he said he was too shy and didn’t want me to see him go through it all.

I could sort of see the masculine guy not wanting his wife seeing him labor through the pain, whereas ironically she was more than happy to demand he watch her very painful labor and deliver—— a story another blog. But, the truth is I bet he was thinking and 100% correct that as he was working with his own physical therapist, he would have a nagging wife clear across the PT room on a machine yelling at him to “stand up straighter – you are doing it wrong!!!!” Followed by comments at home of “I overheard your PT saying you should or shouldn’t be doing this.” LOL!!

And can’t say that I don’t blame him for putting up a boundary as it would in-fact maybe hurt our marriage for me to go there……

Not to worry, I myself am doing fine today. In fact, my sister Nadine is about to get here to squire me off to an area resort for spa and pool time, leaving Mark to fend for himself for a few days. I should be cleaning up but instead I am happily procrastinating on the computer doing this…

Puttin’ Up Vegetables, While I Put Up With My Husband This Weekend…

The Dallas Farmers Market. Since 1941, they are under private ownership now and will be making some great improvements as a Dallas destination in the coming year(s). Super excited!

Mark and I made a date to go the Dallas Farmers Market this weekend to buy Summer vegetables to “Put up”.   I’m going to have to Google a bunch of “how to(s)”…  Supposedly they have a really good BBQ place there.

Dallas Farmers Market since 1941

I’m so glad I didn’t kill him when I had the chance…

Today is Mark’s and my 33rd DATING anniversary.  July 3, 1980…schlitz

Yes, we intentionally met up at a dance in Kosciusko after riding around town with his friend Robert the night before.  I took his truck keys from him as a joke while dancing with him… and no, we were not in his truck making out if that is what you’re thinking.  I was a good girl.  I just admired his key chain and the pocket watch he was carrying.  I thanked him for his truck, as I slipped his keys into my back pocket.  I remember what we were both wearing… and that he thought it was cool to drink Schlitz beer at the time.  LOL!

I realized about the keys when I got home and dressed for bed and HAD A HEART ATTACK!!!  No cell phones back then, I didn’t know what to do… So, I sat in the front yard and cried.  He had to drive all the way back to Karnes City to get his truck keys with his friend Brian.  A 20 min. drive just one way!  I felt so embarrassed and just knew he would be convinced I was too young for him.  (We were both going into our Freshman years — me in high school, him at Texas A&M.)  Surprisingly, he wasn’t mad at all when he showed up at my parent’s house at 2:00 a.m. just to drive back to Kosciusko and get his truck —- a long, late night for him.    He had a good excuse to cut things off right there, but he came back over the next day or rather 6 hours later in the afternoon and the rest is history…

We’ve had our ups and downs through the years.  I like to say now that we are Empty Nesters and having our 2nd childhood without parental supervision, that I’m truly so glad I didn’t kill him when I had the chance earlier in our marriage.   Life with him is pretty darn good and usually never a dull moment.  🙂