The Peanut Butter Jar Debate

I knew that moving in together would present new hurdles for me and Blake.  We both have been single and living alone for so long...how could we not develop some habits that would seem downright silly to each other?  For instance, I tend to leave half empty glasses wherever they are.  For days at a time.  When I finally realize they need cleaned they usually look like a science experiment, but I just dump it down the disposal, throw it in the dishwasher, and hope for the best.  Blake seems to find this unusual and disguting to say the least (so do I, but I guess not enough to change the habit).  And apparently I never eat restaraunt leftovers, which I didn't realize until Blake started eating them.  "Hey, I was saving that!"  "Really?  Because it's been in here for a month."  I guess you could say that's one of his quirks-he'll eat anything.  He thinks he's impervious to any food generated illness.

Blake, on the other hand, is of the opinion that if you use it everyday it doesn't need to go in the cupboard or pantry.  So at his apartment nothing was in the cabinets, and I think milk only made it in the fridge because he likes it cold.  Needless to say I nipped this one in the bud as soon as we moved in.  I took over unpacking and organizing the kitchen immediately and got it all in the cabinets before he could claim counter-space for say...peanut butter.

Fast forward a few weeks.

Blake has been wonderful about trying to keep up with my constant rearranging of the kitchen, since we keep finding more kitchen stuff as we unpack.  Most of his things end up back in the cupboard they belong in when he's done.  There was just one teeny tiny little thing that was driving me a little crazy...

We have two peanut butter jars.  A very large fat-free version and a small regular version.   Blake uses the fat-free PB on his morning toast every morning.  Every morning he would stack the very large jar back in the pantry on top of the much smaller regular jar.  Every morning after he left and I started to fix my breakfast I would inevitably knock into the stack and send both jars flying (thank God for plastic).  I would restack them with the large peanut butter on bottom and go about my day.  The next morning, there it would be again-the large PB jar taunting me from the top of the little one.

Finally one morning I opened the pantry and saw the jars, stacked big jar on top of little, and turned to face Blake.

"Why do you stack the big peanut butter jar on top of the little peanut butter jar?"  (*I had already had my morning coffee and this was said with some actual decency and more than a little curiousity)

"BECAAAUUUSE!  It's REALLY HARD to put everything AWAY when I use it EVERY SINGLE DAY and I'm not LEAVING IT ON THE COUNTER and then I have to MOVE THE OTHER JARS OUT OF THE WAY and I'M TRYING REALLY HARD HERE!!!!"

I'm probably a really terrible girlfriend, but I laughed.

And then I moved the little peanut butter jar to the bottom shelf, out of sight and away so that he had one less thing to have to remember.  Because he is trying so very hard to put up with my constantly changing demands and kitchen organization.  Because he is more than patient with my mercurial nature and unpredictable whims.  And because even though I don't want the peanut butter jar on my counter, I don't want him to have to change who he is completely for me or anyone (and I still don't want the peanut butter jar on my counter).

Epilogue

Two days later...

I open the pantry door to retrieve something for dinner and see, once again, that oversized PB jar on top of the ridiculously small one.  I turn, hands on hips, to face Blake, who says, "What?!"

I reach into the pantry and remove the large jar, a million variations of "Haven't we already discussed this..." running through my head and ready to burst out of my mouth.  As I lift the jar, I see a small sticky note attached to the jar below:

I love you :$

(that's the emoticon Blake gave me...he says I have a million dollar smile and that's why he fell in love me.  I know, it's disgusting isn't it?  I love it!)

I think when I turned around my face must have frozen somewhere between "I can't believe you stacked these jars like this AGAIN after I MOVED that little one for you!" and "I can't believe I'm such a jerk to complain about stupid peanut butter jars".  Blake nearly fell over laughing, and then wrapped me in his arms and said with a big grin on his face, "I've been waiting two days for you to find that."

Which pretty well ended the peanut butter jar debate.

Turning Two...and Other Milestones

My nephew Jackson turned two last week!  I honestly can't believe how much time has flown...I remember getting the phone call (as I was speeding through OK to try and make it for the birth) that Jackson James had entered the world.  That news changed the course of my life.  Up to that point I had been seriously considering (and even planning) to move back to New York City to try and make a career as an actress.  The moment I laid eyes on that beautiful little boy I knew I could never again make the choice to be away from my family.  It was always hard when I was on tour to be missing important family events (birthdays, weddings, holidays), but I could always justify it with the thought that everyone knew and understood that my job had different demands than the average 9-5 gig.  But when I started to think ahead (and BINGO-that was milestone #1 for me, actually thinking further ahead than the next 6 months), and I started to imagine explaining to little Jack why I missed Christmas...or his birthday...or his graduation...

It just wasn't worth it.

And that was the day I decided my life was going to be different.  I decided that what was most important to me was the kind of LIFE I had, not the kind of JOB I had.  My father has always told me that whatever I decide to do, I should do it with passion.  I am passionate about my family.  I complain about them, whine about them, give them a hard time, but at the end of the day I would rather have had a life full of family than anything else.  I want to be cool Aunt Nikki, weird Aunt Nikki, fun Aunt Nikki-not absent Aunt Nikki.

My life turned around completely in a matter of 24 hours.  The Monday morning Jack was born, I was merely Nikki, undecided.  Monday evening I was Aunt Nikki, smitten and galvanized.  I wonder if my nephew will ever know or understand what a wonderful birthday gift he was, and that if I spoil him rotten it is not just because that's my job but because he gave me such a wonderful gift.  He gave me the life I always wanted by showing me the possibilities of family.

In the two years that have passed, Jack has grown from a fussy infant to a clever toddler.  I suppose the same could probably be said for me.  We've both done a lot of growing up over these last 24 months.

Happy birthday, Jack.  And thank you :D

A Barrage of Bullets

Since it's chaos around my house, this will be less of a post and more of a random bulleted update.  Enjoy!

• I have turned over the keys to my apartment and I now live full time in the house!  This has taken a considerable load off my shoulders.  Blake will be completely moved in as of this weekend, and then we have no where else to go...
• Which means we better start unpacking since currently the only clean spot in the house is the kitchen (suprisingly-only because Blake is a saint and does the dishes.  Though I love him for many reasons, I have to say this one is in the top 3.)  It is not very easy to take two complete households and cram them into one.  Especially since we're both packrats and, let's face it, lazy.  I would much rather do things like install my wine fridge or plant a garden than go through yet another box.
• So I did.  I planted our garden out back (with considerable help from Saint Blake, who somehow got a shovel full of dirt in the face for his troubles.  Things like this tend to happen around me.  Sigh.)  I have rose bushes, rosemary, and several other things intended to attract butterflies and hummingbirds.  So far all I have are ants and a really bad sunburn.
• New rules have been instituted in our household to try and keep some sanity.  Blake has only given me one rule.  If we are in separate rooms and I happen to drop/kick/break/bump into something or otherwise make a loud crashing noise followed by an expletive, I am required to immediately yell "I'm okay!" assuming, of course, that I am okay.  Apparently he thinks it's possible I could mortally wound myself during normal cleaning/unpacking activities and needs to know quickly whether to call 911 or just chalk it up to Nikki being Nikki.
• My rules tend to be more numerous and specific.  Like don't drape your work pants on my chair in the living room when you get home.  Don't drape them on the couch either.  I don't care if it's your couch.  Yes, I do follow my own rules.  My clothes are in a pile on the bedroom floor, NOT on the couch or chair.  No, I don't want you to follow my example and start your own pile.  Because I said so.  Because I'm crazy and I think you're insane for wanting to stay with me when I am this crazy.  Thank you for staying with me when I'm a nut.  And thank you for not putting your pants on my chair or your couch.
• Blake thought I would forget about ring shopping after we closed on the house, but really it's all I think about.  I can't wait to marry him someday (if he still wants to marry me after all the grief I give him-life with me will be an adventure to say the least).  I just wanted to put it out there that I still want to marry him.  Not just because I want to plan a wedding (and boy do I want to plan a wedding) but because I love him more than anything in the world.  Because he is my best friend.  Because I can't imagine a world without him.

Thus ends the bullets.  For now.  Pictures are coming, I swear!  And, I think it's safe to assume, there will be plenty more "We're Living Together-NOW WHAT?!" stories-there's no turning back now!