10 Things Nobody Tells You About Marriage

Miraculously I have managed to stay married for almost 15 years. This is a pretty huge accomplishment since I'm no slice of joy to live with. I give most of the credit to my husband. The man has the patience of a saint.



I know some younger folks who are planning their first wedding. They are so filled with joy and cotton candy dreams about what life will be like once they are married. I have to bite my tongue when they tell me how wonderful their marriage will be and how they will not be the kind of couple to fall into nasty ruts. Hah! As an experienced veteran I know the truth. I battle with my inner demon over the question of telling them the truth or allowing them to live in their little fantasy worlds. I think I might just print up the following list and slip it into their mailboxes.

10 Things Nobody Tells You About Marriage

1. Your husband will develop ear and nose hair. You will notice these hairs and tell him that it might be time for a trim. You might even end up doing the trimming yourself.


2. Initially you will worry about what your husband is wearing and you will spend considerable time shopping for him and giving him advice on what looks good. Quicker than you will believe possible, you will stop caring. You'll have enough to worry about getting yourself and the kids ready. I have lied to my husband when he has asked me if items match. I figure if he doesn't know his colours yet, it's just too late.


3. Planning time alone once you have children will be like planning a military campaign. Much effort will go into it and there are bound to be casualties.


4. You WILL consider your husband snaking the tub drain a truly romantic act. As a side note: let him brag about the size of the clog. It will make him feel manly.


5. At some point in your marriage your husband will buy your Valentine's Day gift at Safeway. Just be glad he didn't shop at the gas station.


6. Don't fool yourself, your family is just as crazy as his is! In my case-crazier.


7. He doesn't care about the colour of the shower curtain. In fact, he really doesn't care about any colour schemes that you might be cooking up. In my husband's case-he doesn't even know what a colour scheme is.


8. He will have some crazy ritual that he does with his friends that will embarrass the hell out of you. I won't even say what my husband's is. Suffice to say that all the women who are partnered with his friends, along with me, just grin and bear it.


9. You will slave over a meal for him and serve it with pride and he will be totally grossed out. You. Not me. Everything I cook is great.


10. You will argue. You will scream and use language that no self-respecting trucker would be caught dead using. If you don't fight there is something seriously wrong with you. If your expectation going into marriage is that you will never fight you need to rethink this whole thing right now. Just throw a party for you and your friends and wear your dress to get the whole wedding thing out of your system.

Those are some of my truths. I don't make the rules I just live by them.

My New Obsession

I recently came back from my sister's farm in Saskatchewan with bags of lovely fall vegetables. My sister plants a garden that produces enough vegetables to solve a hunger crisis in a small third world country. She just needs them to arrange transport. My sister wants me to believe that she does this so she doesn't have to eat chemical laced produce from evil supermarkets. Truth is that, after having 7 children, she does it for the peace and solitude. If you want your kids to leave you alone just use the following magic phrase: "Want to come help me weed the garden?" From what I've witnessed, the phrase is guaranteed to give you hours away from your offspring.

Back to the issue of what to do with my bags of fresh produce. Faced with bags of beets, I had to come up with a solution fast. There was only so much beet borscht my family was willing to eat. I figured I could take care of the beets and the potatoes in one quick swoop. Mashed potatoes and beets were born. I did some checking and it turns out there are recipes out there for this marvelous creation but I guarantee you none of them are as good as this one. Mine is born of some serious consultation with the beet loving secretary who runs the school I work at. For a week we shared the results of our many experiments in the kitchen and the following is the addictive result:

• Cut up one huge beet into cubes and boil it for about 10 minutes in a pot full of salted water. To those who don't salt food: get lost! The beets take longer to cook so start them earlier than the potatoes.
• Add 5 large potatoes cut into large sections.
• Boil the whole thing until the potatoes are tender.
• Drain and mash with 1/2 a cup of butter, (Use butter, not margarine! Margarine is evil and should only be used to lubricate squeaky doors.), enough milk to get a smooth consistency, 2 nice size tablespoons of horseradish (This is the secret ingredient that sends this stuff over the top.), a teaspoon of kosher salt, and a ton of lovely black pepper.
• Beat the hell out of the potatoes. I like to use an electric mixer and just leave a few lovely chunks of beet floating around.

Serve these with anything, or nothing. My daughter prefers them on their own in a heaping bowl topped with even more butter. Bless her skinny soul! I think I might need an intervention over my growing obsession because my fat pants are getting snug. Oh, remember that beets will cause interesting results in the bathroom about two hours after consumption. Don't panic! You are not dying!

Sausage and Peppers

This is super easy and the smell that it leaves on your husband's breath will keep women with straying hands far away from him!

You will need the following:

• 8 - 10 GOOD quality Italian sausage. Do not go cheap here and try to slip a second rate sausage into this recipe! I go to a lovely local Italian deli and get an equal amount of sweet and hot sausages.
• 4-5 red, green, and yellow peppers. You decide which you like best. I like to use all three. Cut them into nice size chunks. You don't want them so small that nobody can see them.
• 1 diced purple onion
• 1 cup of that boxed wine you have sitting on the counter
• 2 tablespoons of olive oil
• 2 tablespoons of butter
• A package of 8 crusty rolls

Once you have everything, follow these instructions:

• Bake the sausages in the oven at about 350º until they are nice and brown. Take them out and let them get cool enough for you to slice them in 1 inch chunks.
• Heat up the oil in a frying and toss in the peppers and the onion. Cook until almost tender and then toss in the sausage. Add the wine and let this simmer until the liquid reduces to about 1/4 cup.
• Add the butter to finish off the sauce.
• Taste and if it needs salt and pepper add as much as you see fit.
• Divy up the mixture so everybody gets a fair share.

Enjoy!

Things I Have to Remember

Summer has started and that means weeks at the cabin. As a mother and wife, I have numerous things I have to remember and prepare in order for summer to be a bit more enjoyable for my family. In addition to remembering to bring essentials like bedding, towels, sunscreen, dog food, clothing, bug spray, and a ton of food, I now have to remember what books my husband has read during our time together.

As a couple, we start to look for lake books while still in the icy grips of winter. It is vital to have enough reading material to wile away our free time at the cabin. This is essential if we are to effectively ignore all the work that needs to be done on the place! I start off my summers the same way every year. I have bags of new books to read but I always start with a reread of my favorites. This list usually includes a fair number of Carl Hiaasen novels with a couple of Margaret George's thrown in for good luck.

My husband, on the other hand, goes into a blind panic as he looks for all the books he bought earlier in the year and then proceeds to drive me insane with the same question which is repeated so many times that it puts him in danger of me using one of the body dumping sites I've been investigating in the area. The question is usually asked when I'm comfortably snuggled in bed or when we are packing to head out to the beach. He'll come up to me looking slightly confused and ask "have I read this before?" Now, that question may seem harmless at first but you have to think of all the things a mother and wife has to remember and take into account my age and then you will begin to understand how annoying THE question is. Apparently, when we were saying our wedding vows, I promised to keep a running list of all novels he has read while we are together. Sneaky bastard.

This brings me to this weekend's disturbing discovery and reading of the novel Speedboat by Renata Adler. He came into the bedroom and asked THE question, which he has asked about this particular novel for about 3 summers now, and I just decided it was easier to say "no". I was pretty sure he had read the stupid thing but I figured if he can't remember he should have to read it again. He settled down and read for about 5 mintues. He declared it crap and threw it in the corner.

The next evening he was telling my son and me how bad this novel was so I had to pick it up and take a look myself. He wasn't kidding. This is perhaps the worst book ever written but it's won prizes and is considered to be some fine writing. Each paragraph starts off with a new topic and there is absolutely no connection between any of the paragraphs. Example:

Paragraph 1: The Italian bottled water heiress was sitting on her ship.

Paragraph 2: I was eating in a Greek restaurant in New York and saw a rat.

Paragraph 3: A Pinkerton man got on the elevator and told me that somebody had been molested on the the 5th floor.

Paragraph 4: Nessa got her finger caught in the cab door and had to go to the emergency room.

My dramatic reading of Speedboat sent my son and husband into fits of laughter. We could only last about a chapter and we had to give up. My husband has threatened to sell the thing at our next garage sale with the title "worst book ever written" underneath it. He says he won't let potential buyers read it before deciding. Somehow I don't think I can expect him to ask me THE question about Speedboat next year.

The Art of the Home Party

My mother-in-law remembers Tupperware parties fondly. Back then they were an acceptable way for housewives to get the hell out of the house, drink sickeningly sweet punch, eat pinwheel sandwiches, and gossip about their husband's many short comings. She bought so much of the stuff that her storage room in the basement is like some kind of Tupperware museum. I imagine a bevy of women crowded into a shag carpeted living room wearing lovely 70's style pantsuits with hair heavily sprayed with French Formula hairspray.

Home parties have definitely gone downhill since those glory days.

Home parties now require the attendee to have a huge disposable income. Tupperware is now for the rich and famous. Who else can afford a $40 burger press? This confuses me because I don't think the rich and famous want to own this stuff. I don't think Bill Gates has a Tupperware cupboard in his sprawling mansion. I can't see Oprah bringing in muffins for the crew in her new snack storage container. As a side note, I like to rig my own Rubbermaid storage cupboard so it comes raining down on my husband's head when he opens it. This is a real skill and takes time and patience and is always guaranteed to piss him off.

My sister is no longer asked to attend Tupperware parties after she made the comment that the pickle storage containers seemed a little ridiculous. She couldn't understand why anybody would buy a $20 container to store pickles in when the pickles came in their own handy container when you bought the damn things.

The company that frosts my pickle the most is Partylite. I've been roped into a couple of these parties and I'm always stunned at the way women ohh and ahh over candle holders priced in the hundreds. Haven't these women heard of the dollar store? Perfectly acceptable candle holders for all seasons and a bag of 50 votive candles for a buck can be found in the sacred isles of your local dollar store.

I suppose my hostility towards Partylite can be traced back to a surreal experience I had with my daughter's guidance counsellor. My daughter was experiencing some pretty serious bullying at her school and I made an appointment with the counsellor to discuss solutions. My daughter and I were sitting in the guidance office discussing the problem when she asked me if I would like to look at her Partylite catalogue. For a moment I was stunned. If I look will she help? If I don't look will she slip my daughter's file to the bottom of her pile of things to do? I decided to buy something in the hopes this sad excuse for a counsellor would get off her fat ass and help my daughter. I ended up buying a Christmas type candle thinger for about $60. My husband was furious and all these years later, when I put it out at Christmas, he STILL complains. Ended up that the Partylite pushing counsellor did jackshit and my daughter had to leave the school.

Now housewives can go to Passion Parties. That's exactly what I want to experience. Stuck in a room full of women I'm either related to or work with watching them buy vibrators and second-rate itchy lingerie. I'd never be able to look at any of them in the eye again. And what the hell does one serve at these parties? Pinwheel sandwiches just won't cut it. I say no thank you to the Passion Party. There are some things that should be kept private and away from the prying eyes of relatives or co-workers.

I'll buy Rubbermaid storage containers, dollar store candles, and my lingerie on my own thank you very much. I WILL make a plate of pinwheel sandwiches and eat them on my own though and think back to the glory days of Tupperware.

Trailer Park Trifle

*Warning, your trifle will not look like this!

Quick and easy trifle that won't win you any prizes at the local fair. You will need the following:

• Mini yellow jelly rolls. Buy about 4 packs of jelly rolls. They come in packages of 6. The local 7/11 carries these things 24/7. You can class this up by using the more exotic chocolate variety.
• About 4 packs of snack size yellow instant pudding cups. As mention above you can pick a flavour more daring.
• Large package of strawberries cut in slices.
• Jar of strawberry jam. Get the cheap kind that contains no real strawberries.
• Large tub of Cool Whip. I have to admit that I try to use homemade whip cream in this. Even I have my limits.
• Whatever liqueur you have on hand.
• Skor Bits or chocolate chips.

Once you have the ingredients you can assemble your masterpiece.

• Pick out a really pretty trifle bowl. It will help class up this dish.
• Cut the jelly rolls in order to make attractive pinwheels. You should be able to get about 5 per roll.
• Layer the bottom of your trifle bowl with the cut jelly rolls.
• Sprinkle about 2 teaspoons of liqueur on the rolls. Try not to resort to Creme de Menthe.
• Put a layer of pudding about an inch thick on top of the rolls.
• Now a layer of melted and slightly cooled strawberry jam.
• Now for the sliced strawberries. Remember to save some for following layers!
• About an inch thick layer of Cool Whip or whip cream.
• Start all over again and repeat until you are just below the lip of your trifle bowl.
• Sprinkle Skor Bits or chocolate chips on top.
• Chill for a couple of hours and serve to your delighted guests.

It is handy to know that you can pretty much buy all of the ingredients at 7/11 anytime you need a dessert in a hurry.

Here We Go!

Before I begin to rant about all the things that enrage me I should introduce myself and explain how I came to be the petty woman I am. I started off as a very happy homemaker. I voluntarily became a stay at home mom and I took pride in what I did. I cleaned, cooked, volunteered at my kid's school, baked treats for their school parties, and put on some pretty respectable birthday parties. When my son was about 3 I decided to go back to school. After about 6 years I finished my 2 degrees and started to work.

It was when I started university that I realized that the whole "you can have it all" thing was a big crock. It was impossible to do the things I once did and do well at school. Something had to give. So things slowly began to slip at home. Dinners from scratch were replaced by casseroles that started with Campbell's soup. Floors were washed when the kids started to stick to the linoleum. I stopped being embarrassed when my husband went to work with a wrinkled shirt because he knew where the damn iron was. Dust bunnies became enchanted creatures that inhabited our home. Stuffing things underneath the bed became a perfectly acceptable method of housecleaning.

When I had some free time in the evenings I would flip channels and I became addicted to cooking, home improvement, and make-over shows. I started to do a slow burn as I watched perfect women fix fabulous meals in fantastic homes while dressed in immaculate outfits. Something wasn't adding up. I started to look at the women I knew who had families. A good hunk of them were buying in to this stuff. They marched off to work every morning. They came home and made great meals. After the kids were put to bed they spent their evening cleaning. One of my friends was existing on about 2 hours of sleep a night as she struggled to present a flawless image to the world. I started to see a common thread. Women who felt they needed to live like this worshipped at the altar of Martha, Oprah, and Nigella.

I refuse to buy that crap. The women who are hosting these shows have huge bank accounts and a pack of minions to do their bidding. I had none of those things. I decided to just say NO and embrace my mediocrity. It actually cost me some friendships. Former friends didn't feel comfortable sitting next to me in my slightly rumpled outfits as I sipped boxed wine. Frankly, I don't miss them. My kids eat Kraft Dinner, drink Kool Aid, sleep on mismatched sheets, watch questionable movies and I think their turning out pretty good.

So there ya go. Now that the introductions are over I can begin to rant about all things that frost my pickle. The list is long and varied. I hope you enjoy.