MetroDad

Happy 7th Anniversary, Sweet Cheeks!

There are three things that I always tell people when they're about to get married.

One, always remember that marriage is about the journey, not the destination.

Two, always remember that a great marriage is like a duck.  Everything may look smooth on the surface but underneath, you've got to paddle like hell.

Three, keep in mind that the key to a healthy long-term relationship is never go shopping for shoes with your wife.

Also, if you can afford separate bathrooms (usually both for her,) go for it.

Personally, before I got married, people gave me crappy advice. About a million people told me "whatever happens, don't go to bed angry." Seriously? I find it hard to believe that there are couples out there who can get into massive fights and then have everything be alright before "Nightline" comes on. I have personally slept on our couch enough times that there's a giant indentation of my ass right smack in the middle of it.

But that's ok. Arguing can be healthy in a relationship. Spouses are individual people with their own individual views and needs. What counts in making a happy marriage is not so much how compatible you are, but how you deal with the incompatibility.

That's far more important to remember than any aphorism about not going to bed angry.

Personally, I like to celebrate my anniversary by thanking my wife for putting up with me. I snore like a buffalo, hate doing laundry, and cannot go shopping with her for more than 10 minutes before I want to blow my brains out. I fart incessantly, tell the same stories at every dinner party, and am utterly useless at fixing anything other than a dangling participle. Also, my feet smell like ass and I clog our toilet up on a weekly basis.

On the other hand, my wife is a wonderful, intelligent, beautiful, sexy, funny woman whom I love and adore. She not only puts up with all my little "quirks" but she actually finds them charming. I'm lucky to have her and the key to our marriage is that we both know it.

So...happy anniversary, honey!

As the great American philosopher Rocky Balboa once said, "I got gaps; you got gaps; we fill each other's gaps."

Let's keep filling them together.

I love you.

The Greatest Video Ever Posted on the Internet

Due to my father-in-law's cancer, the mood is fairly grim these days at Casa MetroDad.

That's why I was pleasantly surprised to get an e-mail today from my wife with the subject heading, "This warmed my heart and put a smile on my face today." Not much puts a smile on my beautiful wife's face these days but when I saw it for myself, I completely understood. Somehow, this touching video speaks to the indomitable strength of the human spirit. It's amazingly uplifting. Few things have ever made me smile and tear up at the same time. I simply can't stop watching it.

See for yourself...

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

This video reminds me why I love traveling around the world so much. It's because getting to intimately know people all over the planet always reminds me that, deep-down inside, we're so much more similar than we are different. It's something we should all strive to remember every day.

In a similar way, it also reminds me of why I love blogging so much. Through the power of the internet, the world has become such a smaller place. Ever since I mentioned my father-in-law's cancer, we've received so many incredibly touching e-mails from people all over the world. People from Malaysia to India to Greece have all taken time out of their busy days to express their deepest sympathies and send their warmest thoughts and prayers. I can't even begin to express how much that means to us.

I hope this inspirational video makes your day just as it made ours. And may it remind all of us that, despite all the hate in the world, we're more similar than we could ever imagine.

Peace out.

On Marriage

As I've said on this blog before, a great marriage is like a duck.  Everything may look smooth on the surface but underneath, you've got to paddle like hell. 

If any of you ever speak to people around the world and ask them the secrets to their long-lasting and happy marriages, they will all smile knowingly and tell you that marriage takes a lot of work.  And I believe them.  As I look at current divorce statistics, it's scary to see how fragile modern marriages can be.  Especially in a city like New York, where you can actually get a marriage license printed on an Etch-A-Sketch.

However, make no mistake about it, my friends.  Marriage is the single greatest institution in the history of civilization---if you meet the right person. 

For me, the lovely, beautiful, sexy, intelligent and funny BossLady is that right person. 

This past Saturday, we celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary.  And after six years of marriage, I'm sure of two things---first, never go shoe shopping together, and second, nothing says "I love you" like a new handbag.  The rest is a mystery, but a mystery I love to be involved in. 

Being that I'm generally a hopeless romantic, I usually like to celebrate our anniversaries with a giant flourish and a whirlwind of activity: extravagant dinners, intimate evenings in a fancy hotel suite, giant bouquets of callas lilies, jewelry, Swiss chocolates---all in the name of love (and a semi-annual blow job!)

This year, we decided to celebrate our anniversary in a more low-key manner.  Since none of our regular babysitters were available, we skipped all the normal celebratory rituals and spent a lovely day together just with our daughter.  After a day at the playground, the three of us ordered in a bunch of lobsters, sat on the floor of our apartment with our little bibs and had a family dinner together.  Afterwards, we curled up on the couch together and watched "Finding Nemo" for the 800th time until we all dozed off into a deep slumber. 

And as I think about this past Saturday, I realize that may have been the perfect way to celebrate our anniversary and our six wonderful years of marriage together.  These days, celebrating our anniversary together is no longer just about the BossLady and me.  It's more of a celebration of our entire life together and who we are as a family.  And after six years together, I can't wait to see what the next six bring.  Or the six after that.

Because if there's one thing that a good marriage will teach you, it's that the exciting part of it isn't the destination.  It's the journey. 

And if relationships are the journey, then I couldn't be luckier to have the beautiful BossLady as my co-pilot.  With her by my side, I know I'll never lose myself nor the sight of what's truly important in life.   

Happy Anniversary, BossLady!   

As those cheese-eating surrender monkeys across the Atlantic like to say, "Je t'aime plus chaque jour, aujourd'hui plus qu'hier, moins que demain." 

I love you more each day, more than yesterday, less than tomorrow.

Mother's Day 2007: Ex Post Facto

It's a well-established fact that you dearly love your wife and mother. 

However, your daughter is only 2 1/2 years old and your only sibling has decided to spend the weekend partying with friends in Vegas.  Therefore, the entire Mother's Day holiday falls squarely on your broad shoulders.   

Ignoring your pleas to sleep in until noon, your daughter instead chooses to wake up at 6:30 am. Determined to let your wife sleep in, you drag yourself out of bed to make waffles for your daughter.  After an hour of throwing play-dough at each other while watching "The Sound of Music," you decide to go out and walk the dog.  The only problem is that your daughter insists on pushing her baby doll in her stroller; so a normally 5-minute walk around the block ends up taking you 45 minutes.

You drop the dog off and then go out again to buy your wife some coffee and breakfast.  Then, it's over to the flower store to buy some lilies.  After that, you run over to Kinkos to print out some Mother's Day photos and make a homemade card.  In the store, your daughter knocks over two store displays and gets her fingers stuck in some packing tape. You decide to pick her and everything else up and go back home.  By the time you enter your building, you look like an overloaded yuppie Sherpa carrying Ivanka Trump's wardrobe up Mt. Everest.

However, it's all worth it when, at 10:00, you and your daughter jump into bed and wake up your beautiful wife.  While changing your daughter's diaper, you tried to explain the concept of Mother's Day to her.  Somewhere in your tiredness, you must have made a comparison to birthdays.  Now, your daughter is cheerfully singing, "happy birthday to you" to your wife.  You both laugh at her silliness.

Because you love your wife, you announce to her that the entire day is hers for the taking.  Never missing the opportunity to take you up on your offer, she cheerfully announces that you will all be going to Target.  Although you too are a fan of the giant discount store located in nearby NJ, the last time you and your wife were there together, it cost you over $250 and took over three hours.  You never knew how much stuff there was that you never knew you needed!

The Target venture goes relatively smoothly...except for the fact that your daughter sits in a puddle of soda and soaks herself completely.  Thankfully, you're at Target so you can pick a new outfit out for her.  While you select an adorable floral print dress, your daughter chooses a Little Mermaid Ariel bathing suit, replete with an attached tutu.  An argument ensues and you get a brief glimpse of what life will be like during her teenage years!

Afterwards, you decide to take advantage of the fact that you are in NJ by going to not ONE but TWO different Asian food markets. One is Japanese. The other is Korean. Both are completely packed with your fellow Asians. Apparently, nothing says "Happy Mother's Day" like kimchi and fried gyoza.

You then head to one of your favorite secret NYC-area spots, a private non-profit nature preserve with over 65 acres of wildlife trails.  For two hours, you hike through the forests and marvel at the sheer beauty of the gorgeous day.  Unfortunately, 20 minutes into your hike, your daughter gets scared by a squirrel and insists that you carry her for the rest of the time. By the time you finish hiking, your back is sore and you feel like Larry Bird in the '92 NBA playoffs. 

Somehow, your daughter has managed to cover herself completely in dirt.  Her pockets are filled with acorns. And when you take off her diaper, you're not entirely suprised to find twigs in there.  You wipe her down with some wipes and put on her new dress from Target.

Back in the car, you entertain your daughter by singing "So Long, Farewell" while your beautiful wife wraps presents and writes out cards for your father (birthday) and for your mother (mother's day.)  You drive 20 miles to an amazing Japanese restaurant where you all enjoy a multi-generational family gathering.  Your daughter behaves surprisingly well, except for the moment when she leaves the table and decides to lie down by the hostess stand to take a quick nap. 

Finally, you drive back to Manhattan.  You drop off the groceries.  You return the car to the garage.  You go walk the dog again.  When you get back home, you assume your daughter will already be asleep.  Instead, she is racing her Hot Wheels cars all around the apartment.  The dress that she hated from Target?  She now refuses to take off and is insisting that everyone watch some more "Sound of Music" before she'll go to bed.  Too tired to put up a fight, you acquiesce. 

Soon after, your wife also goes to bed.  You turn on the TV to watch highlights of the Mets game. You think about the day's events and you decide to write a blog entry.  While writing it, you realize that although your day was completely exhausting, you come to understand that these are the types of days that you will cherish forever.  You remember how lucky you are to have such a fantastic wife who is an even better mother.  You remember how your daughter will never be two years old again and that this really is a great age to be her father.  You think about your own mother and are grateful not only for everything she's ever done for you but also for the person that she's helped you become.

In the end, you realize that this was the greatest Mother's Day you've ever had...even though you're not a mom.  Maybe it's not such a Hallmark holiday after all.

Happy Mother's Day, BossLady!  Look, we made a toddler!  Holy crap!

Hope all you mothers out there had a great Mother's Day as well!

In Defense of Valentine's Day

"Valentine's Day is just a marketing ploy to rob consumers of their cash!"

"Valentine's Day is just another Hallmark holiday. If you really love someone, why would you need a special day to express it?"

"72% of people polled say they HATE Valentine's Day."

.

BAH HUMBUG, YOU NATTERING NABOBS OF NEGATIVITY!

Look, I'm generally your average guy's guy.  I pee standing up.  I like fart jokes.  And I have an unhealthy obsession with sports, alcohol, my stock portfolio, Philly cheese steaks, and my penis (not necessarily in that order.)  But, at the end of the day, I'm a serious sucker for love and romance.

Heck, why SHOULDN'T we have one special day to celebrate the loved ones in our life?

Personally, I like to think the BossLady and I appreciate our love for one another not just on Valentine's Day but every other day of the year as well.  Sometimes that love is expressed in a surprise bouquet of flowers.  Other times it's expressed by sitting on the couch and watching "Rudy" with me for the 47th time. 

But regardless of how we express our love for one another, I think that Valentine's Day is a great holiday and I scoff at all the naysayers and sourpusses. 

I wasn't always such a fool for love.  In fact, it wasn't that long when I felt like I had dated every woman in New York and I was slowly coming to terms with the possibility that perhaps I would never find that someone special.  Maybe I was one of those people who was destined to be alone.  At the very least, I figured I'd be able to eat dinner over the sink in my underwear every night without any complaints. 

Then, the beautiful, sexy, smart, funny, caring BossLady came along and completely knocked my socks off.

Now, I won't go into all the details of our courtship here but BossLady was everything I never knew I always wanted in a woman.  From the moment I met her, I knew she was the one for me and, even though it took me 6 months to convince HER of the same, I thank my lucky stars that things ended up the way they did. 

So yeah, I'm a sucker for love.  And yes, my undying love for my wife is one of the reasons I'm such a hopeless romantic.

However, when it comes to Valentine's Day, it's not solely my love for romance that makes me think this is such an important holiday. 

No, I think it's important for many other reasons as well.  And I think men (more so than women) need to understand a few of those reasons.  (By the way, I'm singling out my fellow brethren because it seems that most of the people hating on Valentine's Day are menfolk.  I'm sure that this has to do with the fact that most men don't like being told they HAVE to do something.  They'll gladly buy their wives flowers, candy, or chocolates.  Just don't force them to do so on a certain day.)

Anyway, let me tell you something, my brothers.  If you're like me and you're lucky enough to have a great woman who loves you, you need to stop thinking of Valentine's Day as a cheesy commercialized holiday celebrating romance.  Instead, you need to get down on your knees and pray before the God of your choosing that you even have a woman in your life who loves you. 

Why? 

Because let me fill you in on a little secret.   

Between cheap immigrant labor, sperm banks, self-parking automobiles, and equal wages, us men are pretty much optional these days.  Seriously, think about it.  Now that women don't need someone to hunt for their food, do you think they really need us around anymore?  Especially since Whole Foods delivers?

Look, you don't want to celebrate romance with your significant other?  That's fine.  But let me ask you something.  How long do you think it will be before your shit gets outsourced?  You don't think there's someone out there that your wife could be with who doesn't pee in the shower, fart underneath the sheets, or clip his toenails with his teeth? 

Personally, I'm extremely grateful that the BossLady married me.  Like I said, I'm very much A MAN.  Therefore my beautiful wife puts up with more shit than anyone could possibly ask for. I tell the same 3 stories at every cocktail party.  I'm losing my hair.  I never ask for directions.  I leave the toilet seat up constantly.  I need to be asked to do something 5 times before I'll even consider doing it.  And if I'm in a shoe store with her for more than 10 minutes, I want to stab everyone around me with a pair of Manolos. 

During baseball games on TV?  I'm ashamed to admit that I'll willingly turn down sex unless I can leave my Mets hat on and we can do it during the 7th inning stretch. 

Yeah, I'm lucky to have my wife.  I think all of us men are. 

See, here's the deal, my friends.  When you get to be my age, you realize that ultimately, love is a journey.  Half the time, you're expressing your love in ways that you never imagined.  The other half, you're apologizing for something stupid you did.  But within that journey, you'll find that marriage is an act of faith that contains within it the power of transformation.  Finding that person to share your life with makes this world a much better place.  And despite the craziness of this world and all the extraneous noise that fills our lives, eventually you come to realize that John Lennon was right...

Love IS all you need. 

So fellas, embrace this holiday.  Celebrate love.  Enjoy the romance!  Because as every good woman knows, real men DO know how to express their love.  So suck it up.  Send the flowers.  Buy the candy.  Hold hands with your wife.  And make reservations at that swanky restaurant in town.  Because, at the end of the day, the women in our lives probably deserve better than we could ever give them. 

And hey, at the very least, maybe you'll get a blowjob out of all this.

BossLady...You know that moment when you kiss someone and everything around you becomes hazy. And the only thing in the entire universe that matters is you and that person. And you realize that that person is the only person that you're supposed to kiss for the rest of your life.  On the one hand, your heart wants to explode with happiness.  But, at the same time, you want to cry because you feel so lucky that you found the person that is the one for you.  There is no one else and there never will be. 

Baby, YOU are that person for me.  I love you with all my heart and with every fiber in my body.  You're my best friend, my lover, and my soul mate.  I'll see you tonight.  I'll be the naked guy with the red velvet cake.  Happy Valentine's Day.  I LOVE YOU!

Halloween Post Script

As an adult, there are few better places to celebrate Halloween than New York City. 

The available activities are incredibly diverse and there's usually something to cater to every type of personality.  Over the course of the evening, you can watch the amazing puppets and costumed freaks at the Village Halloween Parade, run the Spooky Costume Race at Grand Central, attend the Procession of Ghouls at St. John the Divine, take in a scary book reading at the NY Public Library, or take a quick visit to the world's scariest Haunted House.

However, as a little kid, Halloween in the city is even better!  None of this walking from house to house in order to go trick-or-treating.  Hell, that would take forever!

Back in the day when I would go trick-or-treating, my friends and I would draw up strategic plans the night before.  We'd figure out who lived in the biggest apartment building and then we'd map out our route.  Our prime objective was to find a building that housed over 250-300 units.

In NYC, you can't just go around and knock on random doors.  You might end up waking up a serial killer or running into an underground meth lab.  No, there's a certain system that's evolved over the years.  Usually, there are two ways to figure out who in the building is welcoming trick-or-treaters and giving out candy.  People either put a little pumpkin sticker on their door or there would be a master list in the building lobby stating each unit that would be doling out goodies that night. Normally, we'd start on the top floor and work our way down the building.  On a good night, we'd EACH haul in several enormous shopping bags of candy within an hour.  Man, sometimes that candy lasted me for a whole year. 

These days, as New York has become more gentrified, various neighborhoods around the city close off their streets so families can safely walk around and collect candy from various shopkeepers.  Our neighborhood in Tribeca has become one of the more common areas for kids to trick-or-treat so it's always a great place to check out kids in their costumes.  Since the Peanut is still a little too young, we thought we'd play it mellow and just go over to a friend's restaurant and watch people walk by. 

Of course, we had to dress Peanut in costume.  And due to her undying love for all things Elmo, we bought her a cute little Elmo costume, thinking that she'd absolutely love it.  As usual, we couldn't have been more wrong. 

The Elmo costume freaked the crap out of her and she wanted no part of it.  Total and utter meltdown ensued.  I'm talking tears, screams, wails and kicks. 

Perhaps it was the shock of seeing an amorphously hollow Elmo with both his skin and head peeled off?  Maybe she was scared because whatever sucked the skeletal corpus out of Elmo might do the same to her? 

Personally, I like to think that the idea of putting on an Elmo costume raised too many existential questions in her tiny little head.  Who am I?  Am I Elmo?  Are Elmo and I a singular being?  Where do I end and where does Elmo begin?  How did I enter this world? 

Anyway, it's a good thing that my brilliant and beautiful wife suspected this might happen and bought a cheap back-up costume...

Angry Fairy!

 

Happy Proposaversary, BossLady!

Very soon after we met, I realized that BossLady was the woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, she didn't feel the same way about me.  Since she was living in Los Angeles at the time, she had no interest in pursuing a long-distance relationship.  However, I can be a persistent ass sometimes and so I continued to pursue her until she finally relented and agreed to date me. 

A few years later, we were married.  However, to this day, BossLady always asks me how I knew so early in our relationship that we were meant to be together.

Of course, there are many reasons but I think these three stories sum it up best...

(1) The first time BossLady and I ever shared a bed together, we ended up staying up half the night bonding over our love of alliteration and exchanging grammar gaffes people made that caused our blood to boil.  To this day, I don't think I've ever heard anything sexier in my life than when she said, "God, how crazy does it make you when people confuse 'if' and 'when'? How fucking hard is it to understand the conditional?"  Talk dirty to me, baby!  I think that's when I knew I was going to marry her someday. She would be the Strunk to my White!

(2) On our third date, we were having brunch together at a restaurant near Lincoln Center.  During the meal, I made a slightly sexist joke about something and then went to the restroom.  When I came back, I took a bite out of my burger and munched on a few fries.  Suddenly, my lips started swelling and my tongue felt like it was on fire.  Turns out the BossLady had taken exception to my sexist joke and had spiked my ketchup with habanero hot sauce and poured red pepper all over my burger.  When I looked over at her, she was sitting smugly with a look on her face that said, "Got any other sexist comments you want to make?"  You gotta love a woman with that much spunk.

(3) When BossLady decided to move to New York to see if our relationship was going to work out, we rented a cargo van to drive cross-country together.  I think I knew BossLady was "the one" when we pulled out of her driveway in L.A. and she insisted that we immediately stop at a gas station because no self-respecting road trip could officially begin without an enormous supply of sunflower seeds and beef jerky.  Amen!  My convictions were further upheld when we were eating in a Memphis restaurant and she insisted that we get the "Fried Everything Platter" because life was short and who knew when we would ever get the opportunity to eat fried shrimp, fried clams, fried pickles, fried green tomatoes, and fried jalapenos all on one plate?  Carpe fry 'em! 

Six wonderful years ago today, I got down on one knee and asked the BossLady to marry me.  Thankfully, she said "yes."

Happy proposaversary, honey.  In the fast food menu of life, you're my spicy fried chicken. 

I love you like popcorn loves butter.

(If you're interested, you can read the story of our engagement here.  However, I must warn you.  It's extremely mushy and has been known to induce severe vomiting.)