When I was at BlogHer in San Diego (which seems like a million years ago!) I went to the Voices of the Year readings, and fell madly into bloggy girlcrush on The Empress from Good Day, Regular People because of her post, When Someone You Love Has a Blog. I laughed, I cried, I loved it, and I had an idea. This post has been stewing ever since then, so let’s see how it comes out! It will NOT be as great as hers, so please read mine first and then go read hers. And prepare to pee your pants.
My Husband Didn’t Marry a Blogger
OK, so he kind of knew what he was getting into. I wear my geeky girl title proudly, and am still a little sad I didn’t have any Apple stickers on hand when I got my new car in 2005. It’s my first Apple stickerless car since the late 1990s. So he signed up for a life with a geek. I’ll admit that.
He knew that I was a fan of message boards and online forums, and then there was the whole scrapbooking thing. He isn’t totally clear of geekdom; understand this. He has his stuff; Ren Faire and gaming… we’re a nerd match made in heaven.
I started this blog in July of 2005. We’d been dating for a couple of years at that point, but it wasn’t really a “thing” that mattered much in my life. I don’t think he even knew my blog existed until Max was born and I started using it to update people on how he was doing in the hospital.
Why does this matter? It’s simple. This thing, my blog, wasn’t what it is now. I wasn’t posting regularly about my (our) life, and I wasn’t writing much either; if you look back at my archives prior to about mid-2007, it’s a lot of Who, What, When, Where and Why with the occasional photo, and a random stream of consciousness thing or whatever.
It’s why I don’t talk about him a lot on here. I adore him, he’s my best friend in this world and the funniest person I’ve ever met, but I limit how much I talk, good or bad, about him. He didn’t sign up for THIS. He didn’t agree to be the butt of my jokes, or for me to complain to a bunch of strangers (to him) on the interwebz. Yes, he farts. Yes, he leaves dirty socks in the living room, but he doesn’t necessarily want me telling the world about it. (Oops)
I find it on blogs, I find it on sitcoms a lot too… why are the dads always so… dumb? Doofusy dads with hot wives and hilarious kids seem to dominate television, and I cringe a little inside when I see it in the blogosphere as well. Jamie didn’t marry me to make good blog fodder. He married me for me; it’s up to me to treat that trust with the respect that he has given me. He has trusted me with his everything, and it’s the least I can do, to protect and cherish it.
So know this: I adore my husband most days, pull my hair out about him occasional days, love him EVERY day. He’s more than a sidebar in the story of my life; he’s my main character, my Prince Charming, but that’s our story to tell, not just mine.