The grass is always greener on the other side.
When my partner and I decided that we would start a new life, south of the arctic circle, it was an exciting time for us.
We picked the Foothills for its warmer winters, stunning summers and the Rocky Mountains that we could explore within our backyard.
Not to mention the close proximity to everything, one of Canadaís greatest cities had to offer.
But with that, came a four-month separation involving long-distance communication skills and patience and at the time I was worried.
ìFour months is so long,î I would whine, to which Iím sure he just rolled his eyes.
ìWhat am I going to do?î
Turns out, anything I wanted to.
I hogged the bed, left my shoes in the living room, ate out of yogurt containers, never cooked, never shared the couch, watched girl movies and far too much Food Network to admit to.
Now itís all baseball and hockey, and baseball and stinky dog and hockey.
Hmm.
Now donít get me wrong, Iím happy my boys are home and at long last the months are over, I just wish heíd stop hogging the bed.
I became accustomed to a ìcertain lifeî and now I have to learn to share all over again. Oh, and the snoring, from both the man and his four-legged companion, I might add.
Itís constant and never deters from itís nightly frequency. There are times Iím completely baffled and astounded that he doesnít wake himself up.
Now, credit-where-credits-due, he does try to minimize the nightly earthquakes, and is sympathetic to my plight, mostly when my death stare comes out.
The dog on the other hand, just doesnít care. Heíll hog the bed, stretch all his limbs out, push me off my side of the bed and proceed to join in with the snoring chorus.
Iím convinced he enjoys doing it too.
Picking out our furniture for our new home was an interesting experience, as was the trip to IKEA that was as memorable for the furniture we picked together as it was for the expression on his face at the end of our four-hour excursion.
Letís just say, our styles are different, and when pushed he has a death stare as well.
When in a long distance relationship, communication is key. If the two of you canít talk about absolutely nothing for hours, it really wonít work.
Those ìwhat did you have for dinner,î conversations become key and when the reunion finally happens, all truth comes out.
ìYes, Iím eating healthy, donít worryî is the answer you get when your 1,000 kilometres away, but quickly turns into ì What do you mean we canít eat steak for dinner every night?î
I will say though, he is very good about eating the dinners I make, and while they might be too healthy for him, he puts up with them. But left alone, Iím sure all heíd eat would be steak.
Then, if that wasnít enough, the inevitable baggage that comes with the sports-loving man.
The hockey gear, the baseball equipment, the Van Damme movies, the hockey memorabilia and heís already claimed ìhis spotî on our brand new Chaise lounger.
My wonderful colleagues have helped me deal with the smell of his hockey equipment that isnít allowed to be washed ñ the good old Bounce laundry sheet is working magic on 20 years of hockey history embedded in his enormous bag.
Hmm.
The joys of sharing a life, I know, but still they take some getting used to, and Iím sure heíll tell you all the things I do to annoyÖ.. no heís smarter than that.
While right now it might seem as if the grass is greener, I know I wouldnít change a thing or have it any other way ñ well, maybe more flowers and less Van Damme movies.
