Tag: marriage

True happiness began 7 years ago for me, when she became my wife

imageI remember standing at the altar, watching as she crossed the courtyard toward the church. I remember smiling so much my cheeks hurt; I remember the pride and appreciation I felt knowing I was about to be her husband; and I remember a momentary breeze lifting a stray strand of hair away from her face, like God’s finger gently brushing it aside as she entered the chapel. As with any rare occasion when we don’t enter a room together, our eyes found each other immediately. So much was said to each other during that long walk to the altar. Not in words, but spoken between our two hearts — in a language we had been fluent in from the moment we met…

Seven years ago today, I became the man I was meant to be by marrying the woman I was meant to be with. The moments we have shared since then are more than memories — they are carried within each pulse that beats from my heart; like a constant and steady flow of warmth and wonderment inspired by her presence. We came into each other’s lives as parts of a fractured whole, survivors with scraped knuckles from time spent trying to repair broken marriages with parts from ourselves. Perhaps because of this it was easier to recognize one another when our hearts met for the first time. And perhaps because of our past experiences we were able to appreciate even more the rarity of what we felt. Continue reading True happiness began 7 years ago for me, when she became my wife

One thing I do that ALWAYS turns my wife on

Yeah, being geeky together helps, too...
Yeah, being geeky together helps, too…
Since the thong incident, I realize any tenuous grip, however slight, I might have had on entertaining the hope of becoming a sex symbol — again however slight — essentially disappeared into the sandy void of those dunes. And to keep from making things any worse, I won’t define what I mean by “sandy void.”

Still, come this August, I’ll have been an extremely happily married man for seven years. That’s because, in additon to the blessings my wife and I share as a couple who truly enjoys every moment together — and the knowledge that NO day would be as good as it could be without each other in it — I also happen to know how to… well… Ummm, please my wife.

*Ahem* If you know what I mean.

*wink wink*

*cough cough*

Ok, if you still don’t know what I mean, then this short video about my secret bedroom tip should help…

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Want to be a better father? Get a bigger grill

image Sunday morning I will awaken to sizzle of bacon and eggs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the shuffle of approaching feet as I lay in bed quietly thinking to myself: My God, my wife is leaving me.

Then I’ll remember: Wait — It’s Father’s Day! It’s a day when we fathers are revered for our wisdom, patience and, in a few rare instances, our neckwear. For one whole day I’ll be the perfect father since my wife will be handling everything for me. She does this to help me relax and enjoy my special day. The problem is, it’s hard to relax when, by handling everything herself, my wife makes it clear I could be replaced by a dishwasher and a few extra power cords. Continue reading Want to be a better father? Get a bigger grill

Time to mow again? Learn CPR first

image Men, now that spring is here, it’s time to start preparing for the very real possibility you will soon be neck deep in grass clippings. I know this because I received a Sears catalogue depicting what appears to be an all-American family taking time off from its busy modeling schedule to cook hamburgers on a brand new stainless steel grill large enough to accommodate an entire side of bull elk. As you would expect, children were in the yard squirting each other with water toys and running barefoot over a perfectly manicured lawn which, judging from the size of the family dog, must be self-cleaning. Mom was nearby, well oiled and laying on a lawn chair in her bathing suit, still recovering from her recent Victoria’s Secret lingerie shoot in the Bahamas.

Around the Hickson household, summer starts out a little differently. I was reminded of this yesterday as I stood in our back yard, waist-deep in weeds, swatting at a mosquito with a rusty spatula and trying to remember the last time I saw our hibachi. Continue reading Time to mow again? Learn CPR first

Men: If you forgot Valentine’s Day it’s not too late if you know a good plumber

image I know this is a little after the fact, but given that Valentine’s Day fell on a Saturday this year, I’m guessing that a lot of men are just beginning to realize they’re in serious trouble after coming home last night with nothing but a six-pac and an NBA game schedule. If you are one of these men, then there’s a good chance you are getting into Valentines’ Day mode right…

about…

NOW.

(Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for any injuries, heart ailments or claims of memory loss occurring as a result of this information.)

Do not panic! As men, we will stick together and, through the power of the Internet, call upon the romantic wisdom of men from throughout the world and, hopefully, come up with at least ONE good idea. Continue reading Men: If you forgot Valentine’s Day it’s not too late if you know a good plumber

A saucy Valentine exchange with my wife

Admittedly, stopping in for some Cinnabon Delights at a Taco Bell on Valentine’s Day doesn’t sound particularly romantic. One might even see it as a precurser to the end of a relationship. But when I am with my wife, a romantic moment can happen anytime, anywhere.

Love has a way of doing that. Even in a random handful of hot sauce packets…

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Happy Valentine’s Day from us to you

I just remembered: I am slowly replacing my memory with Post-Its

image When my wife called to remind me about letting the dogs out at noon, I instinctively retrieved a Post-It from the desk drawer and scrawled “Dogs at noon,” then stuck it to the computer monitor.

This required shuffling a series of other yellow Post-Its into order of importance, with things like “Call about hair cut,” “Go to dry cleaners” and “Clean out van” written on them.

That one, of course, was moved to the very end of the line.

Sadly, they’re all things I should be able to remember on my own and usually do; like when I’m staring into the closet for a pair of pants to wear.

Later, I got into the van and was gently reminded by a shocking-yellow piece of paper to “get gas.” It was while sitting at the pump a short time later that the notion of Post-It dependency hit me. In the beginning, I was only an occasional user, jotting down out-of-the-ordinary reminders. You know, things like a doctor’s appointment, or that it was time to change the oil.

Then, “Change cat box” and “Take out trash” began appearing on the bathroom mirror, or stuck to the alarm clock — painfully obvious things that were reminders in and of themselves. Continue reading I just remembered: I am slowly replacing my memory with Post-Its

A love note for no reason doesn’t mean I’m in trouble

image “If I had three wishes, none would compare to the one God already granted when he gave me you.”

I wrote those words on my wife’s Facebook today, as well as my own, inspired by no other reason than being the lucky man who can say them to her.

It’s not our anniversary;
Valentine’s Day is still more than a month away;
And no, I didn’t do something stupid.

I just love her.

It’s been that way since the moment we met. Honestly; the moment we met. And the only reason I didn’t say it right then and there was because I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo on our first date; there was plenty of time for her to figure that out later. I can’t explain how I knew so quickly and completely that I loved her. The closest I’ve come to describing it is that, even though we’d never met, somewhere in my heart I already knew her — so she was easy to recognize. I’ve been thankful for each day since and I make sure to tell her so. Today it just happened to be on Facebook. Continue reading A love note for no reason doesn’t mean I’m in trouble

If the jeans fit, wear them (At least until your legs go numb)

(Today’s post is unusual because, for the first time, this one actually comes as a request. To put into perspective just how unusual this is, think of drinking a beet frappuccino, then requesting another one. Then again, most people aren’t Carrie Rubin at The Write Transition where, in addition to her terrific perspective on life and writing, she also offers a “very tasty” beet frappuccino recipe…)

image I have a favorite pair of jeans I refuse to give up, and which, over the last few years, my wife has attempted to eradicate on six different occasions. She hates these jeans because, according to her, they are “ripped, frayed and embarrassing.” Particularly when I forget to change them before going out somewhere in public, such as our front yard. Her attempts to get rid of my jeans have escalated from them being “lost,” to an incident last week in which she claimed my jeans “spontaneously combusted,” forcing her to put out the flames with the nearest extinguishing device: A meat cleaver.

She later apologized for hacking my jeans, telling me she reacted instinctively to a dangerous situation. I told her I understood and that, instinctively, I planned to continue wearing my newly perforated jeans, at least until the remaining threads give way to the force of gravity and I am suddenly de-pantsed.

Probably while raking the yard. Continue reading If the jeans fit, wear them (At least until your legs go numb)

Because my wife makes every moment better

image Six years ago today I stood at the altar, watching as my wife crossed the courtyard toward the church. I remember smiling so much my cheeks hurt; I remember the pride and appreciation I felt knowing I was about to be her husband; and I remember a momentary breeze lifting a strand of hair away from her face, like God’s finger gently brushing it aside as she entered the chapel. As with any rare occasion when we don’t enter a room together, our eyes found each other immediately. So much was said to each other during that long walk to the altar, not in words, but spoken between our two hearts — in a language we had been fluent in from the moment we met…

Oct. 28, 2006:
My search for a red rose after making the hour-long drive to Salem for our first date had put me behind. Coupled with the fact that I hadn’t been on a real date in nearly 20 years, had lost 23 pounds since my divorce several months earlier, and was driving a Plymouth Voyager mini-van, I technically had four strikes against me already. Plus, after several weeks of chatting together on Match.com and long evening phone calls, she had finally posted her profile picture. When I saw it, I realized I wasn’t only in danger of striking out before our date even started:

Heck, I was batting out of my league. Continue reading Because my wife makes every moment better