Domestication

Lots going on....Lots going on....

So in addition to getting married NEXT WEEKEND, I am moving my stuff to Toby's house THIS WEEKEND. Moving, by itself, is hellacious. Even the easiest move I have ever experienced... is still considered awful in my book. I LOVE unpacking, mind you. I look forward to that. (Sick, I know.) But that actual packing and transporting of stuff makes me want to throw myself into the middle of I-95 at rush hour. So, now that you know my feelings on moving, add to that a WEDDING...then add to that moving in with Toby. I love him. I really do. That's why I am marrying the man. HOWEVER, he has a way of being very stubborn and flying off the handle about things - yes, in about 30 minutes, he'll come around and 98% of the time apologizes for his irrational behavior. This is how he works. And I know this. And I try to use it to my advantage. But it's still difficult to deal with sometimes.

Take last weekend, for example. I moved 6 boxes over. Mostly books. I unpacked those and put them on my bookshelf (we have matching bookshelves.) That felt SO good that I decided to dig into the MOUNTAIN of wedding gifts we have received up to this point; all of those were stacked to the ceiling on the kitchen table. At this point, Toby is taking a nap so I go it alone. And I am on a roll! I clean out his kitchen cabinets of things we will not need anymore - mostly plastic cups and containers (AKA Tupperware from 1970) and I open all the new boxes and fill the cabinets with our new, fantastic, wonderful, beautiful kitchen stuff.

Toby wakes up and comes in the kitchen (that looks like a hurricane whipped through) and has a look of total panic on his face. I say "I cleaned out your cabinets and I did not throw anything away. Here is a box for you to go through because I wasn't sure if you wanted to keep anything that may be sentimental to you..." He glances at the box and says:

"That spatula isn't even a year old."
Me: "Well, we got new, very nice spatulas right here." (opens drawer to show him)
Him: "Yeah but I got that spatula for Christmas in 2003. It's still good."
Me: "I understand, but we got nice, new stuff and in order to use the new stuff, we have to get rid of some old stuff."
Him: "Well I'd like to keep that spatula."
Me: (trying not to get heated) "Ok. We'll just have 48 spatulas so that you can feel better."

Wrong answer. Then came the explosion.

Me: "Can I move this big wooden box with the deer head on the side to another room besides the kitchen?"
Him: "FINE! SURE! JUST TAKE OVER. THROW IT ALL AWAY. TAKE OVER THE HOUSE. THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT TO DO ANYWAY."

Good grief.

Me: (CALMLY) "Please. Please don't make it like this. I understand that you feel invaded; but what do you think I feel like? It's not a cakewalk for me either. I have lived alone for a long time too. I can't HELP but move things. We need to work together on this."

I think that was the point where he realized that this is HAPPENING and there is nothing he can do about it and he'd better start dealing and working with me or it is going to be MUCH more ugly than it needs to be. Shoo.

We finished the rest of the kitchen together and there was no bloodshed. And we were actually pleased with the result as we stood back and took a look at our hard work. Relief!!!!

And that was just 6 boxes of books and some wedding presents. Lord help us this weekend.

P.S. I talked to Toby on the phone the next day and he was telling me that he told his co-workers the story and that they all had the same issues when they moved in with their significant others. I said "You told them the story???" and he said "Well yeah, I have to tell others and laugh at my own stupidity."

I love him.