Author Archives: Nunyo Biness

About Nunyo Biness

Just enjoying the craziness of 2 kids, and my extended family... Living life as it comes along, though it never has time to be boring!

I’m Not a Polygamist… So Stay The Hell Out of My Marriage.

My husband was raised in upper middle class suburbia, basically on a golf course. (Whenever people hear the community he was raised in, the first thing they say is… “Ooooh… on the golf course!!”) He played multiple sports, he can play multiple instruments, and he has traveled the world…

I was raised “in the country.” We always had a dozen chickens, I can’t play anything more complicated than solitaire on the computer, and dirt roads and bullet holes in stop signs? Well, those are just a way of life where I come from. I graduated with a dozen, as in 12, people.

Without going into it, we met through friends. I knew him in Jr. High, my friend Kay knew him in his first half of high school at a different school, and Jay (my now hubby) knew him in the other half of high school at ANOTHER school. Kay invited us all together to party one day, and the rest is history.

Everyone thinks he’s weak, or that he’s passive and I wear the pants in our marriage. This isn’t the case at all, actually. The thing about our marriage is, He trusts me to make decisions for the household. He trusts me with his money, with his children, and with his bank account. I know several marriages where this isn’t the case. He knows I’m strong enough to do these things for us, and he lets me do them, He knows that if a tap needs fixing or a chair needs assembling or the furnace needs lighting, I can do it. This is why he’s ok with working away from home. He’s very quiet, very studious, and more sensitive than people realize. (He kind of comes off like… a distant jerk?) He knows that my brawny country upbringing will get things done. (I mean, really. this is a guy that didn’t know how to change the headlights in his car until I came along…)

We laugh, we joke with each other, and we say things to each other that, I think other people would never dream to say to their husbands. (For example, my notoriously -less-than-pure- cousin was due to be in the area they are working in, and in front of my family I told him not to fall for her skanky charms. He laughed and said he had one woman in his life, I was headache enough.) My grandma thinks when we’re doing this that I’m being mean…

We’re both very strong people. He works away from home, so I have no choice but to be strong. For 85% of any given month, I’m basically a single mother with a steady income. I just don’t do “kept wife” very well. Yes, it’s stressful being the bill payer, appointment maker, household manager for not only my house, but helping with 2 others, grocery supplier, diaper changer, owner of my own company etc etc… but I think that if he’s out working, the least I can do is the rest of it. This doesn’t mean that I wear the pants or that he’s weak, it means that I want to take care of him like he takes care of me and the kids.

In any case, all of the above annoys people outside of our marriage. People seem to think that I should be letting him take care of EVERYTHING (like my Grandmother), that he should be taking better control of me, (Thanks, mom…) or that I am still not doing enough and I need to get a job (his mother.) While I have arguments for any and all of the above statements, I’ve come to realize this-They aren’t married to us, we’re married to each other… at the end of the day, we only have to answer to one another, and not them.


I Hate Shampoo.

Random, I know, but welcome to my suffering.

I visited my mom’s house last night, and my sister wanted to play with my hair. Figuring I’d kill two birds with one stone, I said ‘sure, as long as you let me wash it first, you can straighten it and then do whatever else.’ Off I go to the washroom, where I look at my choices for hair product. Exhibit A: Dollar store shampoo/conditioner combo, and Exhibit B: A shampoo and a conditioner formerly known for some rather… sexual… commercials. (“Oh, Yes! Yes! YESSSSS!”)

I chose B. I chose to be in this pain.

Thing is, no matter how well I rinse it, option B ALWAYS leaves my later-completely-dry-scalp in this weird itch/burn limbo, and I should have known better. I’ll be suffering until I can get home and wash it properly. I guess I’ll never learn.

Speaking of being burned, I tried to buy Garth Brooks tickets the other day. I know there aren’t many people who will openly admit to being a country music fan, but I will, and I was disappointed to find out that they were sold out in 58 seconds. My husband didn’t know I was buying them, but after I told him about it later in the day, he was somewhat upset about it. I think he underestimated how popular Mr. Brooks is, because he told me later he was going to try and get me tickets but he was going to wait until he got home from work… I’m not too torn up about it, though. I have hopes. (I once seen Santana, and despite tickets for his concert being sold out, still managed to be in a VIP booth with a ticket handed to me 6 hours before the concert… I’m holding out for a miracle, clearly.)

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