Thursday, July 21, 2011

Adventures in being the wife of a Builder Guy

Builder Guys.
They work.
They work hard.
They get hot when they work hard in the hot sun.
The feminine race... we appreciate this aspect of their careers.
It's hot.

There are perks to being the wife of a Builder Guy. First of all, he can do anything. Second of all, I find that highly attractive. Change that to my first of all.
The AC unit doesn't work? Just go bat your eyelashes at your own personal BG, wipe your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand (look extremely weak and feminine), say it is very hot in here but you are thankful to have iced water, and he is right on the job. Fifteen minutes and a messy living room later, the AC is fixed, and you give him a big smooch. He likes this. He'll do anything for you now.
Have a pet peeve about money, change, keys, sunglasses, wallets, and pocket knives being left on your once spotless counter? Never complain. This is a major turn off to BG's who don't deserve to be over-used. Just continue saying you cannot find a good spot for this stuff (make sure it's not just his stuff...), and he says, Baby, he'll be right back. Right back takes a half and hour but right back also brings a beautiful little shelf with a love note carved on it from him to you to be nailed onto the wall and carry all the junk. Oh my... that was a doozy of the perks of a BG.
Being a mate to a Builder Guy also has it's challenges. First of all, if you've never been on a job site beyond a computer and a stocks list (like me), the job site can be very intimidating. But, if you love your Man, nothing will stop you from going with him to work when you can. First time, you are useless, if not a liability. We won't get into the details. Too embarrassing.
Second time, you try your very best, and your loving BG appreciates this, and also think you're an awfully cute dumb little blonde city girl... a smooch comes your way.
Next few times you do better... you learn to anticipate what he needs before he needs it. He is SO impressed.
Eventually you become an asset, being a steady little worker who knows what he expects and doesn't expect from you, and he starts to become so impressed that he brags. This ladies... this is the crowning glory of being the wife of a Builder Guy.
Sometimes though, builder guys leave ladders and huge 8 foot pieces of counter tops extending out of the bed of their BG's big bad truck. And sometimes... little blonde city girls don't notice this when they go flying down the road in the big bad truck. But just before the package goes flying off the back and thus ruining your building career, the little blonde wife looks in her mirror and lo and behold... sees it. As she isn't an expert with ratchetstraps (however you spell that), she leaves the counter top/ladder at a friendly neighbors house, picks it up on the way home, and doesn't tell the hubby until he gets home later, so as not to worry him.
Then, the BG leave a huge cedar post on the back of the truck. Having learned your lesson, you test to see how secure it is before you put the petal to the metal. Tight enough. Then, you get 2 miles down the road and notice that the big cedar post has shifted a great deal. So, you drive all the way home and get rid of the unwanted cargo so you don't have to drive slow the rest of the day.
Your big Builder Guy has a big truck with a big engine and a big exhaust that makes vicious rumbling sounds that are fun to make louder and goes extremely fast... this is another crowning glory that I've mentioned before.
I am truly amazed at what my Builder Guy can build. And when he comes home from a long, hot, sweaty job, he knows he'll always have a dumb blonde city girl wife to greet him who truly appreciates the fruit of his labor. Sigh...

Thursday, July 14, 2011

I loved my wedding gown... out of all the trivial details of our wedding, my dress was top priority for me.. I found it for an excellent price and completely reconstructed the top portion... when I had it on, I didn't feel like a princess, like everyone says you should as you walk down the aisle... I felt young and carefree... when I first put it on, I thought, that looks like Clint's bride... as silly as it sounded, it looked like a fairy dress to me... it fit perfectly and I am sad to have only worn it once. It's now hanging in the baby's room, waiting to be put on again someday... someday when my belly will fit in to it again...

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Of Bellies and Hardworking Husbands.

Alas, the promised belly shot.
It's barely there, but behold, it is coming quickly. I just hit my third month and I am starting to become unable to suck this thing in. At least, I comfort myself, it's a hard pooch. When I lay down, it's not longer ribs and a downward slope that I see. No, it is a small pot belly bursting forth. I am looking forward to another month of pregnancy so that I can actually look pregnant, instead of looking like I had too many marshmallows on the fourth.
A few days ago, my Man hopped on the little tractor and mowed a few of our acreage surrounding our house as I cooked a dinner in the humid kitchen that he devoured viciously later. There's nothing like looking out the window on a warm summer evening to see the man you love sitting shirtless, his back bronzed from hard work, looking very cut and chiseled, on the tractor expertly mowing a field. Talk about attractive. Don't mind if I gush for a moment. I swooned for a little while going back and forth between the stove and the window, before I realized that I ought to do something about this. So, I snuck down the stairs with my lonely camera, snuck around the side of the house, and snuck a picture... or two... in. It was all pretty sneaky. Problem was, I couldn't get a front shot without him seeing me....
... and of course in all his modesty he acted like he didn't like to see his little wife drooling over him...
...yeah right...
... so he made this face at me for two seconds...

... before telling me, hop on, baby.