52 Weeks of Love: Erin & Andy

Thank you Erin for celebrating 52 Weeks of Love with Team Pancakes!

Erin can be found at Non-Fiction and Fabulous.

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The number one tippity top question asked after getting married is….
“How’s married life?” (Ha! Bet you were thinking, “When are you going
to have a baby?” No one asks us that. Apparently we are not fit to be
asked this. Maybe because the only reason I want a baby is to dress
the baby or my big fat belly up in funny Halloween costumes. And I
don’t even need a baby to do that. I can borrow one or just eat a lot.)


Unfortunately, no one but me finds the answer, “Eh,” funny in the
least. They also don’t want to hear a long drawn out metaphor
comparing the institution of marriage to buying a house. So I will
tell it now. And you have to listen. Because I bet this blog opened up
in a new window and your back button is greyed out and you have no
choice but to sit here and read it.
Based on my previous posts, I have said buying a house was like having
a baby. And trying on wedding dresses. And riding a roller coaster. So
by the transitive property, marriage is like having a baby whilst
trying on wedding dresses on a roller coaster. You know, if a = b and
b= c, then a = c and all that jazz. (What fresh hell? Well, it’s math,
and you certainly can’t argue the transitive property. I for one live
my life by the Pythagorean Theorem as it applies in all situations. Go
ahead, test it out.)
As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me: Marriage is a house.
I have never had the urge to paint my apartment. We would have just
had to paint it back the same color before we left. Seems like a lot
of work for a temporary living space. Are you seeing the comparison or
must I go on? When you date someone, you have to paint him back before
you leave. You don’t have to, but then the landlord might charge you,
and the metaphor is slightly waning here, but I’ll let you and your
creative juices figure out the rest. Like music lyrics. Insert love
song here, and then everyone thinks that the song is just for them and
specifically the issue they alone are dealing with. 
This blog is for you and only you. You’re welcome. When we were in the dating chapter
of our long novel of life, I didn’t as much time or energy into therelationship compared to the marriage chapter. (Apparently marriage isa novel now. Go with it.)  I put enough energy in… 
As in, hung uppictures, furnished the rooms… but never actually painted the place.
I WANT to paint now. As in, I WANT to put time and energy and whatever else I need to do to make sure husband/house knows I am in it to winit. (I may have gotten this phrase from a Bring It On movie. That is embarrassing.)

Sure I cleaned my apartment. I [husband] vacuumed it, I [husband]
scrubbed the toilets, I kept the cockroaches out. (Well, I didn’t do
that either, but I sprayed and then screamed when I found a dead one,
and then demanded that we spray again, then was reminded that since it
was dead the spray was working and please shut up now.) Did I scrub
the grout in between the tiles? No. Did I clean the drains? No. Did I
move the fridge and washer/dryer to vacuum any possible lint or
whatever else lives under these extremely heavy appliances? No.
(Spilling secrets here, don’t tell anyone.) I’m not going to clean
things that aren’t really mine. That will get taken care of when we
leave. I cleaned what I saw, but everything else was hiding! No need.
When you buy a house EVERYTHING is yours. You better clean it. You are
gonna be there for a while. I didn’t necessarily have to deep clean my
husband, but some stuff that I didn’t really care about before, became
a lot more important after. 
As in putting husband before work, or
doing things I didn’t necessarily want to do to show him he means alot to me.
 (Like putting a dirt bike between my legs and riding overrocks and sand 
and scorpions and who knows what else to see how longwe can go 
before someone flips over the handlebars. How is this fun??)
An apartment was a place to live, and we made ours nice. We bought
what worked and what we could afford. Since it wasn’t permanent, we
definitely bought things that were cheap and took anything our
families offered us. Our house however, has become a bigger project.
It means more to us, and we’re spending more time to plan out exactly
how we want each room. We’re investing more time and money in projects
and searching for furniture that we want instead of need. We’re
building our home a little more each day, and it’s something we love
to do together. After I got married, my priorities shifted a little
bit. Of course I still loved the guy, but he became more to me than…
an apartment. He became my house! (I sound a touch loony here as I am
calling my husband a house, but it’s my blog so just keep smiling and
nodding as I am sure you have been for the past few paragraphs.)
Normal person sentence:  I will spend as much time and energy as I
need to making him and our marry-age a priority. 
(At the very least,just one itty bitty step below the house and the puppy dog. 
And little Chester the kitty cat. I kid. Not Chester. 
He eats too much of mybutter.)

I love my house. Of course it needs some work, but I love it
regardless. You don’t know if I’m talking about my husband or my house
do you?? And THAT means the metaphor worked. Wha-bammo. Mind blown.
(Well, maybe not blown, but perhaps just a touch exploded. Like aPop-It. Mind popped.)


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About Mrs. Pancakes

I became Mrs. Pancakes on 4.23.11! I became Mama Pancakes on 8.28.12! And our lives were forever changed! I call myself Mrs. Pancake because my man loves him some good and fluffy pancakes! The Pancake Life chronicles a life that is happy, inspiring, motivating and lived to the fullest! Why don't you stay a while and enjoy in the The Pancake Life!
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