This is what I’m reading now:
And here is a book review. I’m only about 100 pages into it, and already I’m in love. And Philip was just about thrilled I was reading a book that has something,anything to do with baseball.
He is baseball-obsessed. As in, two fantasy baseball leagues, baseball talk-radio on nonstop, baseball podcasts on his headphones while he does yardwork, baseball on the ipad while he gives the kids a bath, and every browser on our computer is set to some kind of freaking baseball stats page, fantasy league, newsfeed or whatever else you can find.
I have no idea how I ended up marrying someone so into sports. I am the least sports-obsessed person there is, unless you talk about running or weird explorer stories. On our first date, Philip and I spent about half the time talking about Shackleton. So maybe we are more alike than I think.
That’s probably most evident from last night — we sat on the couch, in our sweats, after a day chasing kids at the park, running errands and generally being busy. We cracked a bottle of wine, and watched “Saturday Night Live” on the computer, at 9 p.m. on a Sunday night. And neither one of us could stay awake for the whole show.
Maybe we’re pathetic. I don’t know. I do know there is something really wonderful and comforting about being able to just be with the person you love.
Today marks 7 years of marriage. I’d do it all over again, baseball or no baseball. Mostly because I’m not raising these kids alone. Oh, and because I’m the luckiest woman in the world, with this fabulous hubby.
Happy anniversary, Philip. You’re a good man, and I’m lucky to have you. And I still mean everything I said last year.