Valentine's in 3 Parts

PART I

Top 10 Reasons Ken Loves Me (I Bet)

1.  I ask but never force him to participate in Harry Potter Marathons.
2.  I clean the kitchen once every 24 hours.
3.  I'm very good about shutting the door when I'm in the bathroom.
4.  I work out in order to keep up a sexy physique.   Shooting for two trips to the gym this week.  Wert.
5.  I make sure his shirts are ironed.  Sometimes he does the ironing.  I just make sure their done before work.

Uh oh. I could only come up with 5.  5 semi-good reasons.  I serious married up when I married Ken.  And he reminds me alllll the time.  No.  Not really.  I remind him though.  And I like to tell him how lucky I feel and how loved I feel with him in my life.  Because I do.

PART II

Top 10 Reasons I Love Ken

1.  He can watch a really boring show about engineering bridges and by the end I am totally into it and want to learn more about how exactly they make the steel do that?  And how many other areas can benefit?  And is there a sequel to "Bridges of Northeast Vermont"?
2.  He cooks dinner.  Every.  Night.  Not kidding.  And it's the good stuff.  Nothing frozen.  He enjoys it.  Which is totally awesome because the few nights I've volunteered to make dinner to take a load off of him... it's been awful.  The food is awful (and not cooked enough) and the experience is awful.  
3.  He is really good at driving in reverse and pulling into parking spots.  
4.  He reads.  All kinds of books.  I think he is on his 7th or 8th book this YEAR!  
5.  He grew his beard again.
6.  He wants to spend time with the boys and gets his version of upset if one of them is in bed early before he gets home.
7.  His version of upset goes no further than mildly irritated.   
8.  He's book smart and mechanically smart.  
9.  He'll take a short shower so I can have all the hot water.
10.  He laughs at my jokes.  
11.  He can see potential in unwanted things.
12.  He keeps a journal.
13.  He tells me when my clothes don't match.
14.  He makes the weekends special without having to go somewhere.
15.  If I have a plan or an idea or a dream he makes it happen.
16.  Everytime he burps he acts like he's never done it before.
17.  He knows when the teasing has reached a not fun point and is able to stop.
18.  He makes really good angel food cake.

18!  Already!  Yoiks!  It's easy to love Ken.

PART III

When we were growing up our mom taught us that Valentine's Day is about love.  Not about relationships.  Growing up my mom would make cut out hearts and they'd be laying at our spots at the table when she called us in for breakfast and morning scripture study.  She'd write "Cutie Pie" or "Honey Bun" on it and it'd be accompanied with a little candy treat.  It always made me feel very special.  And loved.  I think this helped me feel like it didn't matter if I was "alone" on the Big Day.  I was loved.  Valentine's Day is a day to eat the foods you love.  Wear the clothes you love.  And tell anyone you love- that you DO love them.        
I'm teaching Koley the same thing.
Today we had his favorite food for breakfast.  Donuts.  We made valentines for our neighbors (because we love them) and he put his favorite (Cars) stickers on them.  We are going to have corndogs for lunch and we is wearing his favorite outfit.  Sweat pants and a Thomas shirt.  
Today is all about Love.

I can remember being little and having the Valentine's Day party at school coming up.  Mom and Dad said we should make our Valentines.  And bear in mind... this was 20 years ago.  WAY before homemade stuff was "cool."  Dad made them in Word and we cut them out.  Colored them.  Glitter is coming to mind.  And wrote PERSONAL messages to our classmates. Not just signed our names!  We expressed ourselves! I can still remember one of the valentines had monkeys laughing in a barrel and it had typed something like "I Like Monkeying Around With You!"  I didn't want to give that one out to anyone.  But at the end of the night... it was the last one left and I had one more classmate to write one to.  I gave it Michael Lakatos.  Who I didn't want to give one to at all.  Probably because I was in 3rd grade and liked him.  And giving him a valentine would make my crush very obvious.  

I don't remember what happened at the party.  Did he notice?  Did he cherish it?  Did he embarrass me and I have blocked it out?   Hmmm.  Not sure.  Not sure.

Doesn't matter.  I've got my Valentiner- Kenner.
And two little wanna-be Kenners here that love me.
And it's totally mutual. 

Bed Wars

When me and Ken were engaged one of the things I was most excited about was living together... mostly sharing a bed.  All that cuddle time and extra warmth!  I couldn't wait.  On our honeymoon I fell asleep wrapped in his arms every night.  Sigh.  And woke up all cramped and sore.
Our first night back, in our brand new queen-sized bed, Ken scooted over to put his arm around me.  I stopped him right there.  "Hey, I like to snuggle.  But I like to sleep real good too."
Snuggles stopped. All the crazy spooning to sleep stopped.  Do people really sleep like that?  Is it comfortable to them?
We agreed (slash I declared) that getting restful sleep was better than sharing a romantic snuggle all night.
7 years later.
We still share queen-size bed (that seems to shrink every year) and sleep is anything but restful sleeping next to the Bed Weasel.  Ken steals covers.  Kicks.  Elbows.  Talks.  I'd like to say it's like sleeping next to _______ (<-- some kind of crazy animal) but I can't.  Because it's not like sleeping at all!  It's like being awake and annoyed.  All night.
I have the unfortunate duty of feeding Joey is the middle of the night.  I don't mind feeding the baby.  I hate the Bed Conquering that occurs when I am gone.  Ken not only moves to my side of the bed.  He lays on my pillow.  Da nurrrve.  I'd say half the time when I ask him to move he just rolls over.  The other half he grunts out a "no."  And, really.  He doesn't move.  It's harsh.  And cold.
Ken also does this thing that we call "Talon-ing."  It's when he gets his sharp toenails (his talons) and scrapes and cuts at my feet until I move them out of his way.  He says it's "an accident." BULL-oney.  Don't believe it.
Another night, I had come in from feeding the baby and my side of the bed was still waiting there for me.  What a nice surprise.  I climbed into bed and Ken lifted up the covers for me.  He was totally asleep.  I snuggled in and he put his arm down on me.   I let out a big peaceful sigh and then BOOM!  I got kneed in the butt!  And Ken yelled, "HERE'S YOUR CHRISTMAS CORN!"
I sat up and said "What?!"
But he was sound asleep.
In the morning I asked him what Christmas Corn was and he had no idea.

I'm thinking we need a bigger bed.  Or separate beds.
What about you?  What are your sleeping situations?  What's your tactic for claiming bed space?   Does your bed partner talk all night?
I can guarantee you can't be any worse off than I am.

You Can't Believe Everything You See on Pinterest

  So Ken is getting skinny and I'm not.  He has dropped 7 pounds since Christmas.  Putting him 2 pounds about his "Marriage Weight."  I not sure why that is... but it seems that after you get married... you constantly look back to your marriage weight.  Maybe because you see the pictures and you look so young and thin and lively.  (Kids will kinda suck all that out of you.)  My problem is I'm not sure what I weighed when I got married. (and I've been drinking a lot of pop and eating a lot of snacks and blaming it on "stress."  Which should really just be called over-eating.) I didn't have a scale back then.  But looking at before and afters... I'd say I was 25 pounds less than what I am now.
  Now.
  I have no desire to be 25 pounds lighter.  I don't want to just up and float away after all.  But I do need to get some exercise.  I think it'll help me feel better about winter.  I just hate winter.  All I do is sit down.  My whole body feels heavier.  I think my blood starts to solidify. And all my joints fill in with apathy. 
  Last weekend my sister was over and she was saying the sure fire way to lose weight would be to start a "Work Out/Lose Weight Blog."  Then you have to do it.  Your readers would be depending on you to post about it.  I think that would work for her.  Because Julie is super responsible and enjoys working out.  My blog would have 2 posts about hot I went to the gym and how sore I was... and then 15 posts about how I didn't go to the gym and all the good food I'd been eating and woe, woe, woe is me.
  Anyway, Ken was walking around yesterday and I was all, "Whoa!  You're looking skinny!"  He did the usual, "Me?  Really?  Nah."  Which is basically asking for more compliments and stroking and I obliged him.  He is my husband.
  Then we got to talking about how long you have to work out before there is a noticeable difference.  I told him about this picture I saw on Pinterest (from numbqueen.tumblr.com):

I quoted it perfectly and was all ready to start talking about motivation and the Gym and how many miles we could run if we just pushed through and reps and workout songs. And then Ken said:
"12 weeks for the rest of the world?  How would strangers notice a change?"
"By...because...if you think about it.... .... ..... You just ruined that for me."
And I went in the kitchen, popped open a Cokey, and sulked.

Me, Being Darling Me

Yesterday we got freezing rain.  Now, call me a naive Utahan, but I thought that was strictly an East coast weather dilemma.  Everything was covered in ice.  It took Ken (riding the bus) 3 hours to get the 15 miles to work.  I set the car seat down on the driveway and it started to slip away.  I rethought my plans of going out.  The car was an ice cube anyway. I herded the Koley back in and slid Joey's seat down the path.  I'll tell him he went ice skating at 6 months.
Now.
As the day progressed out driveway which is a fairly decent hill got slicker and slicker.  At first there were a few patches that were manageable but as the hours passed our driveway became a solid piece of ice.  Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.
Me, being the sweet hearted wife I am, worried about Ken.  The bus drops him off at the top of that Death Trap.  He won't be able to tell it's all icy because it'll be dark.  What should I do?  What should I do?
I don my snow boots.  I Yukon Charlie it through the yard.  Each step breaking through a layer of ice and sinking a few inches down into safe snow.  Behind me I drag a sled.
It took about 5 minutes to get to the top of the yard.  I slipped once or twice.  But I made it.  To the mailbox.  After retrieving the mail, I looped the rope from the sled around the mailbox.  And began trudging back to the house.
I was so proud of myself.
I provided a safety sled for Kenmo!  This way he could get off the bus, and not have to worry about scootching his way down the driveway.  He could just ride down.  Problem solved.  Crisis averted.  Award completely (!) deserved.
I called Ken.
"Hey, Ken.  It's really slippy here."
"Yeah, same here."
"Well... our driveway is especially bad."
"Is it?"
"Yeah.  Like it's one solid sheet of ice.  Way bad."
"Yeah, it's bad here too."
At this point I could tell Ken wasn't grasping the severity of our driveway... nor was he looking to me for a solution I could provide.
"I bet it's worse here.  I mean.  I'm not sure how you're going to make it to the house from the bus stop."
Hint.Hint.Hint.Hint.Hint.Hint.
"I'll make it."
"I don't know, man.  It's bad."
"I'll be alright."
Playing tough.  I'll just help him help himself.
"Well, I put a sled up there for ya."
"A sled up...where?"
"At the top of the driveway.  By the mailbox."
"Why?"
"So you.  Could.  Get.  Down."
I was wondering why I had to spell this out.  
"You want me to ride down in a sled?"
"You'll kill yourself trying to walk!  It's all ice!"
"In my work clothes?  In the snow?  I'll get all snowy!"
"Don't ride in the snow, Ken.  Ride down the driveway!  It's your only option."
"I'm not riding in a sled down the driveway."
"I hooked it around the mailbox.  You'll see it no problem when you get off the bus."
"I won't be needing it."
"But I walked all the way out there.  I thought of this plan for you.  You need this.  You'll see."
"You're crazy."

Ken came home.  Carried the sled down the driveway.  Somehow he made it in one piece.
Ironman.  Superman.  Ken.  That's the holy order of it.

I just keep thinking.  Ice or no ice.  If someone set up a way for me to end my day riding a sled home... I'd say, "I love you, Patty.  You're awesome.  And thoughtful.  Have I mentioned beautiful and charismatic?"

Seven

It's been 7 years today since me and the Kenmo tied the knot.  I'm really proud of that.
There have been sunny times and rainy seasons.  And a couple friggin' tornadoes.
There have been peaks and there have been valleys.  And a chasm here and there.
It's been a marriage.
A good one.  Where we have to work things out.  And talk through things we'd rather push under the rug.  And sometimes I did slash do push them under the rug... until Ken hangs up a bathroom towel wrong and I explode all over him.
Hmph.  It's a marriage.

I'm not going to go into the rough times make the good times better.  Because our rough times never made our good times better.  They just made the good times further apart!  Wert!  The rough times have made me a more compassionate partner though.  Those are the times when I grit my teeth (or bite my tongue or turn the other cheek) and decide whether or not I'm going to stick it out.  I decided seven years ago I would.  Ken tries his damn-dest to make it easy for me.
I'll admit some of the newlywed-iness has worn off and when I see Vicky and Jenn I miss that period (or maybe I just miss life before kids.)
But there is such a confident comfort in our marriage than I depend on and love.
The white hot passion has turned down to a burning red... sometimes I mild orange... occasionally a pale yellow.  But it's still there.
We have each other for better and for worse.
Which I think is pretty good.
He makes me better.  

Post Script:  I asked Ken if he thought he'd get the 7 Year Itch.  He didn't know what that was.  After I explained it to him I asked again.  His response, "Yeah.  I'm feeling pretty itchy."