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I’m just about to post some wedding photos but I’m going to password protect; not wanting complete strangers to look… except… my regular readers are strangers… kind of… I mean I read your blogs so I feel like I know you…
I don’t know. It’s complicated. I’ll basically let anyone have the password, even you lurkers who never comment, if you aren’t an ex-boyfriend or stalker you’re good to go… so just leave me a comment or DM me at @mmacc
We have a puppy.
A 10 week old German Shepherd named Misha.
I wrote, not so long ago, about not being a dog person.
Its ok, everyone told me, once you have a puppy you’ll fall in love with it.
A puppy takes work. It needs to be fed, taken outside, walked, played with, trained, loved, loved, and oh my god just love it some more because it’s not quite sure you love it enough.
So far, I enjoy aspects of having a puppy. I like walking around my neighbourhood with her. I like training her to do new things. I’m sure I’ll even eventually like the company she’ll provide. But what seems to be missing is the joy that I’m supposed to feel from having a creature to take care of. CJ is thrilled with the puppy. He’s been getting up in the middle of the night to let her pee. He cleans up her messes. He is concerned with vet visits and what the dog should and shouldn’t be doing. I mostly view the dog as an inconvenience in my day.
I’m not surprised by the amount of work a puppy takes. I was fully warned. CJ was fully warned. We both agreed to commit to taking care of the puppy so we did. I view her as a chore, something that needs to be done that I’ve committed to – like eating healthy – sure I don’t hate it but I’d rather not be doing it.
Here’s the thing about me: I don’t like taking care of other things. I don’t have that maternal instinct that makes me go all gooey when a baby is around. While I’m good at taking care of other creatures (really good actually) I don’t enjoy it. I prefer to work by myself, not on a team. While I have a natural tendency to lead (being a type A control freak) I will step away from a management role because I don’t like to deal with other people’s problems. I expect too much from small children and small animals. And I don’t receive any joy from being needed by something. I find it a nuisance.
This complete selfishness is the reason I won’t have children (maybe I’ll grow out of it but I doubt it). Unless something’s on my schedule doing what I want or leaving me alone I want nothing to do with it. (Insight into mine and CJ’s relationship – we’re adults, we do what we want, when we want to do the same things we do, when we don’t want the same things we don’t do it together).
This leads to my crazy cat theory: (OF COURSE I HAVE A CRAZY CAT THEORY!)
Children take a lot of work. Those with children have infinite amounts of time and energy to give to raising their children. They are patient and kind, receiving a true joy out of taking care of another being. (There are also those who have children because they need to be needed, or for a social obligation, or due to poor sexual education, but let’s leave that for another day, I only want to address the good parents here).
Those with only dogs, tend to be caretakers but with a lesser degree of dedication. They want something to take care of but without the commitment of 18+ years and a few hundred thousand dollars.
Those with a cat are like me. Selfish people who attempt to prove they aren’t selfish by having another creature to take care. Except with a cat you can fill up its dish and leave it for the weekend. Or get a friend to check in on it once a day and feed it. Little effort. Low maintenance. Proves you aren’t a psychopath because you take care of another animal without killing it. A cat is also good for keeping you from being too lonely. Something to pass the time until you find a man to procreate and have multiple babies. If that’s your style. Personally I use mine to kill the mice and prove I’m not heartless.
Crazy cat ladies? What happens when you started with a cat to keep you from being lonely in your early 20s only to slip into your 30s and 40s without a husband or children? You get multiple cats to fill that void of being wanted; of needing to take care of something. It takes a minimum of five cats to equal the energy needed for one puppy. Three puppies and I think you probably have the energy needed for a baby.
My sister with three children thinking about a fourth? In another lifetime, one without children and a husband, she would have 15-20 cats.
Think about it.
To explain why you want to marry someone is a difficult task.
All of my girlfriends move in with their boyfriends, usually within a year of dating, economically it makes sense. Living with someone, sharing your life with them is similar to being married. I have friends who argue against the archaic decision to get married – why give up your freedom, your name, and a piece of yourself just for a piece of paper? (Equality isn’t an argument in Canada, any two consenting adults can get married, doesn’t matter what sex they are). One can’t get married to change any aspect of their relationship – that piece of paper won’t make him do the dishes more often or like your family more.
So why would two people chose to get married?
When you get married you are stating to the world you are perfectly happy with the status quo. You are willing to commit to someone for your entire life, as is. In this age of commitment phobia and being told you can always change your mind to decide on something so permanent says something about your relationship: I’m not kidding. I love him. I don’t need a way out because I believe I won’t need one.
As I stood in front of CJ, our family, our friends and recited my vows:
I take you to be my husband;
to laugh with you in joy,
to grieve with you in sorrow,
to grow with you in love,
to be faithful to you alone,
as long as we both shall live.
I was completely at ease with the lifelong commitment. I want to grow old with him and I wanted everyone to know.
Since the wedding, nothing has changed in our relationship. We’re experiencing change in our lives, but we bicker just the same, we love just the same, we have the same amount of (fantastic and frequent) sex. The jokes have changed a bit – threatening divorce for a silly offence seems to please us (“What do you mean you forgot to order the spicy sauce? I’m going to divorce you over this!” or “What? Light beer? No, I’m filing the papers for this tomorrow”) and calling each other husband and wife is taking some getting used to ( “meet my boyfri… errr… husband”) but it’s the same for us.
What’s different is how you see us. And that’s the point.
(Our wedding was beautiful, unfortunately our photographer is still editing so pictures will have to wait until a date in the near future)
I’ve been busy.
Never one for subtle change in the past two months I got married, got a puppy, ordered new bedroom furniture, continued to be insanely busy at my job and have kept up an active social life.
I’m tired from typing all that.
So, to celebrate my return to blogging (now that I have some free time on my hands) I present my life in the past two months, in five parts.