Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Pillow Fights

As kids many of us loved to have pillow fights. One of the main reasons why we’d want to spend the night with a friend, ‘have a sleep over’ in today’s vernacular, was to engage in this delightful, somewhat childish activity.

However, I have grown into an adult and am not as easily amused to participate in said activity on a daily basis. Partly because I am awake and active an hour or two before my husband is, and partly because after all these years of telling Steve that I am not amused by it he insists on initiating the fight anyways.

I tell him that by the very fact that I’ve asked him to quit and he refuses, he is being disrespectful to me. To which he responds “My God, who cares? What does it matter?” or “That’s stupid. You shouldn’t feel that way!”

Uhh huhhh.


Many of you may be thinking, “What’s wrong with a pillow fight?” to which I would explain that Steve’s version of pillow fighting is far different than most peoples.

I love to decorate my home in, to me as well as others, a comfortable, stylish manner. On our bed, as well as our other furniture around the house, I have lots of throw pillows.

Yes, we fight about throw pillows.

To Steve they are superfluous. To me it’s the frosting on the cake. I have never seen my hubby remove the frosting off of a slice of cake saying that the cake should be sufficient without it. I have seen him actually go back for seconds on cake and scrape every stray bit of frosting from the cake platter onto his plate.

The problem lies in my attempt to have The Hubster to show me respect by making the bed when he is the last one out of it, including putting the extra throw pillows back on that I took off the night before. Yes, I am typically the first one in bed at night.

“Steve, they are just ‘throw’ pillows! Throw them back on!”

“We don’t need ten pillows on the bed! You just throw them on the chair at night. Why can’t we just throw them out? That’s so STUPID!” responds my mate.

“I like the pillows on the bed during the times we aren’t sleeping in the bed. I think it looks nice!” I try to explain. “Those are decorative pillows! They make the room charming.”

“So I have to have them on the bed if I’m reading or watching TV?” counters The Hubster.

“No Sweetie, they don’t need to be on if we are in bed,” I reply as calmly as possible.

“What if I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Do I have to put them all back on the bed when I leave it, and throw them off again when I come back to bed?” quizzes hubby.

“No dear, wouldn’t I still be asleep in the middle of the night?” I query.

“Well, what if you had already gotten up to get a drink of water and hadn’t gone back to bed yet? Do I have to put them ALL back on? We wouldn’t be in bed!” declares my ever contemplating spouse.

At that point I know that once again he has ‘won’ this battle. I either have to live without my decorative pillows, or make the bed myself each day.

Perhaps we can solve this dilemma with an old fashioned, feather stuffed pillow fight to the ‘death’.

Which would also solve the problem of who gets the most bed space, lol…

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Ah Yep

He remembered! And at least a day ahead of time!

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. I had just finished making coffee when Steve came out into the kitchen, skivvy clad and a smile stretched from ear to ear, gift and card in hand.

This is remarkable in several ways.

First, I already prepared myself to expect nothing. If I am of this mindset, I am not disappointed when nothing, in fact, does happen. If something happens, as did it yesterday when Steve was prepared for Valentine’s Day, then I am duly surprised and pleased. Win win.

Secondly, Steve is not the early morning person that I am. To have a pleasant smile on his face at 5:00 a.m. is a minor miracle. That such a nice expression is intended for me is a rarity. Can you spell Mr. Grumpy Face?

Third, in order to have the card and gift in hand so early in the morning means that the Hubster planned and executed the ‘hunt’ and procurement of said items on a day prior to this date. Hence, he’s thought about me twice this week, unless of course he went shopping last week, but that is beside the point.

I opened the card quickly, as Steve barefooted it back to the bathroom to jump in the shower. Beautiful card, lovely sentiments, and he actually signed “Love, Steve” instead of his standard “From your husband” followed by his full legal signature. Gosh, he’s been listening to me!

“Sweetie, you don’t need to sign ‘From your husband’. I do know who you are. And you don’t need to sign your full name for the same reason. Think of all the writing you would save on doing if you just used a simple ‘Love, Steve’!”

“Why do you always put me down?” grumps The Hubster.


I now turn to my gift. Once the paper is off, and I’ve figured out how to get the box open, (it’s one of those magnetic flap boxes that look like they should slide through the sleeve, but don’t) I find a matching pen and tablet stylus set. Very nice!

And, I have to confess, the first thing out of my mouth when presented with my gift was “I hope you didn’t buy me candy”. I feel ashamed now.

I bound into the master bath where my sweet spouse is singing “You are my sunshine” amidst billows of steamy shower water. I hesitate to intrude, but thank him exuberantly while setting his coffee by his sink.

He is pleased and his face is truly joy filled. I can see him mentally patting himself on the back. Which is good, as I don’t really want to get wet right now.

So what did I do for him yesterday? I didn’t buy him a card. He hates the cost of them when you just throw it away. Candy? Nope.

My gift was to stay home for the evening, grilling steaks for us all, then watching TV and reading for the rest of the evening. Total bliss for him and Manlet.

Especially the steak part, lol!

Thursday, February 13, 2014


I do know that my hubby's aspie traits are much more apparent now than when I first met him when he was in his mid-twenties.  He wasn't diagnosed until his late thirties, and even then he didn't tell me for almost three years! By then he’d had several other reconfirming diagnoses, but still hadn’t accepted or admitted it yet.

I actually stumbled upon a Can This Marriage Be Saved article in a ladies magazine. Leaping up I yelled "THIS IS YOU!", then practically threw the magazine into his blank face.

I had felt for many years after we were first married that there was something wrong, that Steve was holding back some 'deep dark secret’. He didn’t initiate conversation except about cars (his focal interest). He would mumble and ‘hmmmm’ at me during ‘heart to heart’ conversations, probably to acknowledge he still heard noise coming from me. He appeared distracted when I tried to talk to him. He would shrug noncommittally when asked direct preferences.

Which, of course, came back to bite me as I would think that he had no preference for beef or chicken for dinner, just to cook the chicken and have him complain that we never have beef.


Tomorrow marks the two year mark since my first blog posting on this site. Two years of researching, contemplating, writing, and answering emails, comments and tweets.

Tomorrow is another Valentine’s Day.

Is Steve different? Of course. If anything, his traits are becoming more pronounced. He really should quit driving, and I have redone our master bedroom into a fully acquitted retreat where he can watch TV, read and eat in solitude. Does that make him easier to get along with? Nope, but it sure the heck makes my life more peaceful.

Am I different? Of course! I am amazed at how knowledge and understanding  can change my perspective of Steve’s reactions and behaviors. Does that mean I don’t experience frustration, anger or self-pity? Heck no! I would like to think that I am better at handling those situations that can frustrate me, that I yell less and smile more.

I do know that sharing these things with our kids has helped them view their dad’s actions in a whole different light. Our youngest son is now in his mid-teens, and seems more comfortable in dealing with his father’s ‘absences’, understanding that Steve deals with emotions in a nontraditional way.

I do believe that I’ve found more things to laugh about than brood about, and that is progress!

And no, I honestly do not expect Steve to remember the significance of tomorrow’s ‘holiday’. Perhaps that is the most progress of all, LOL!