Waxing Nostalgic About My Wedding Day….

Posted: August 4, 2012 in Pregnant Wife Stories
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

My intent was to blog daily for the rest of my life.  You would all read the blog, enjoy the blog, tell your friends and it would spread like wild fire.  I would become rich.  I would forget about all of you that were the reason that I had found wealth, fame and fortune, but it wouldn’t matter because you had already helped me achieve it, and I would be doing whatever the hell I wanted to do—I would buy jet skis and other recreational devices.  Subsequently, I would have purchased my own island and invited stars to come out and use it as a place they could produce their next record, or as a place they could begin to delve into Scientology.  I am not a Scientologist, yet.  I will become one if Tom Cruise does something, I do it too.    

That was my introduction.  That is what you say when your intentions as a blogger are merely the best laid plans of mice and men, and they have been acted upon by an outside force beyond your control.  In this case, it is my boss.  I have been forced by my employer to work full days.  I know…..I am frustrated as well.  To be frank, my boss is reading this blog right now, so let me make very clear that I love my job, my boss, his family, and of course everything about the man.

I say all that to say this:  Blogs will slow down, it will be a weekly occurrence, but maybe that means you have all week to get excited about Saturday mornings again.  Seriously, cartoons are no good anymore. For years, we haven’t had anything to do.  They cancelled Smurfs, the Hannah Barbera Olympics, and Jem; I may be all you have now.  I mean Saturdays have been pretty much worthless since 1989.  Plus, the infrequency with which I post these things may drive up the demand, and quality of work I produce simultaneously. 

You have dedicated three paragraphs of your life to me and I have said nothing.  I will now talk about something.

Today is August, 4.  Today marks 13 days in a trailer.  Today marks ten days to go before leaving the trailer.  Today, the trailer that once measured 33 feet long now feels like a ten by ten box.  Today, the three dogs that live with me and the one Pregnant Woman grow restless.  Was my plan to move the five of us here as well thought out as I first thought?  Who would have thought that moving an individual with life growing inside of her and her entourage of dogs could be anything but awesome?

You have to give it to The Whitness.  She has handled it with more grace than any seven month pregnant woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  One of the coolest things I do here is go to work from 0700 to 1700.  This is especially cool because when I go to work, Whitney gets to stay in a trailer all day long and watch dogs.  And, deep down, I know that this is what she wanted; this is every woman’s dream.  I remember back to our vows the day we were wedded for eternity.   Before you think that I am not keeping any promises, I wanted to let you know what went down.  The following are the vows I read from the note card at my wedding.  These are the facts, and they are undisputable.

 I, Heath, take you, Whitney, as my lawfully wedded wife; to have and to hold; to cherish by showering you with lavish trips to unbelievable places like Jacksonville, North Carolina—henceforth referred to as the “armpit of the Marine Corps.”

-To move you into a home and then leave you there alone for two years while I, like Teddy Roosevelt during his days with The Rough Riders, gallivant across the globe to secure peace and prosperity and fight communists. 

-I do promise to rip you from the comfort of every job you gain at any duty station we live and force you to move to an equally intimidating and luxurious new duty station like Cherry Point Marine Corps Air Station, where the cool hang out spot is the Dollar General.  Or, Quantico Marine Corps Base, where I will spend the majority of my time on I-95 and bring you home special gifts like ticks and weird infections on my elbows that cause the skin to blister.  Subsequently, the blistering will cause my napkins to stick to my elbows at restaurants. When I stand up, you will frantically attempt to pull the napkins from my arms and you will think it is awesome and not gross at all.

-I promise to conduct this move in the comfort and efficiency of a travel trailer in which you can place all of your necessities and dogs, under the guise that moving you this way would be more comfortable than staying in a hotel room or going out earlier and getting a house, which would have prevented us from having to reside in a trailer at all.

-Additionally, I promise love, honor and to go to my new job, which will remind you that you no longer have the comfort of a nice work place and its associated people whom you love, and leave you in said trailer where you will be forced to watch “Live with Kelly Rippa” and whomever she chooses as a guest host, because Regis has retired—and every time you see the new host, you will ask me if that is the permanent host, to which I will respond in the negative and then re-explain the fact that Regis has retired and Kelly Rippa utilizes guest hosts to keep it interesting, but since you will be pregnant at the time, you will not grasp what I consider to be easy to conceptualize.  However, you are so cute pregnant, I will continue to act like it is the first time you ask.

– I will also give you the unique opportunity to leash three dogs, well two dogs, because one has three legs and cannot be leashed or she will fall over to her front right where an arm used to be.  I will expect you to figure out, while pregnant, how you get the three dogs down the stairs, when I may or may not have parked the trailer in an area that causes the last step to the ground to be farther than the first two, and then awkwardly try to control the dogs as they all try to get out of the trailer simultaneously as if the trailer is giving birth.  The dogs will do their best to pull your pregnant ass down the stairs in a motion that unimpregnated women would find hard to maneuver through, and you will find this exciting and not an inconvenience at all.

-Finally, I promise that you can buy as many pairs of shoes as you would like to and that I won’t care if you actually ever wear them or not.  On a related note, I will also let you use a portion of the closet space that was previously designated as mine to house the superfluous shoes, because love is about understanding that a closet can never be too big. 

Yes, I am pretty sure that is what I promised our marriage would be like.  I may have paraphrased the bulleted points with the line, “Through better or worse,” but the above is what I really meant…..

  1. Heath, you have been delinquent in your daily updates. However, I will still continue to pimp your blog at every given opportunity, which all ten of my loyal readers will surely appreciate… Kidding. There’s really only nine.

    As for marriage, the secret is to never share a closet. At least, that’s what I tell my husband. Trailers do not have enough room for shoes, especially not when you’re pregnant, and require a different shoe size by the end of the day thanks to swelling…

    P.S. Clearly the stress is getting to you. You forgot your tagline at the end.

    • haphillips says:

      Dude, this is killing me! I haven’t been able to read my favorite blogs because trailer park Internet is substandard! I miss you guys–you and Lisa being forever loyal! I can’t believe I left out my tag line.

      You’re right there is no sharing of closets, they are all Whitney’s.

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