Ten things I like about Seth

This year marks ten years that Seth and I have been married. And also ten years that we've known each other. (Shall I tell you the story of how we met?) In honor of that, I thought I'd get all mushy and post Ten Things I Like (or--to be even more mushier--love) about Seth.

1. I suppose this goes without saying, since we wouldn't even be married if this weren't true, but I'm thankful that Seth shares the same faith in Jesus and belief in God's Word that I do. I like that he was raised in a Christian home and that we get along well with his family.

2. I like that when he's watching a UFC fight on TV, he ever-so-slightly moves his hands and clenches his fists as if he's the one doing the fighting. (Do you like how I juxtaposed being a Christian with watching UFC?)

3. I like that he makes me laugh. He can take as well as he can give and isn't easily offended (unlike, say, me).

4. I like that he loves his boys. If they're not at the door waiting for him when he gets home (and they usually are), he asks where they are and goes off to find them immediately. He's involved with and interested in what goes on with Kieran -- the doctor appointements, therapy visits, school progress. He says things like this. He couldn't wait for Cael to start taking a bottle so that he could help feed him. And he enjoys playing with them.

Building and playing in a tent

5. I appreciate that he is a dilligent worker at his job. He takes seriously his responsibility to provide for his family.

6. I like that he knows his way around cars. I find it rather handy to be able to say, "Um, I think something is wrong with the car" and to receive the reply (depending on the situation), "Yes, the distributor cap is broken and needs to be fixed" or "Nothing is wrong with it, you're just driving on a flat tire."

7. I've mentioned this before, but I like his shoulders.

8. I like that he can and does cook. This evening he made spaghetti. He also likes to bake and makes yummy desserts (remember this one?). But I don't like that he eats just one piece from his dessert and leaves the rest for me to finish.

9. I like that when I crawl into bed beside him, usually several hours after he's gone to bed, and reach for his hand, he'll grip my fingers, even though he's fast asleep.

10. I like that he likes/loves me, despite all my, um, "issues." His patience and gentleness are good counters to my impatience and brashness.

Out my kitchen window, day 109

Seth scorns Dancing with the Stars. Dancing with the Has-Beens, he calls it. "It's for sissies," says he. That's why I'm taking a certain perverse pleasure in the fact that UFC All-Star Chuck "The Iceman" Liddell will be performing on DWTS.

Me: "Guess who is on Dancing with the Stars this year!"

Seth: "Why would I want to guess who is on a show that I never watch?"

Me: "Because Chuck Liddell is on this season!"

Seth: [crickets chirping]

Will Seth join me in watching the Machoest-of-Macho-Men prance around the dance floor in tights? Only time will tell . . . .

TBI

I applaud the UFC for for hosting a Fight for the Troops night to raise donations for the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund. But am I the ony one who notices the irony that men who bash in the brains of their opponents are fighting to raise money for those vets suffering from Traumatic Brain Injury?

UFC and the Creation Museum

Does it seem strange to you that I've established a link between the UFC and the Creation Museum in the title of this post? It's a bit incongruous to me as well. During the latest UFC battle, as Seth watched Rich Franklin pummel his opponent, he casually mentioned, "There's a picture of Rich Franklin at the Creation Museum on his website." Excuse me?

A. How do you know this? and
B. What?!?

Apparently Seth was browsing Rich's website (which apparently also features a blog by Rich, which apparently Seth only skimmed), and he stumbled upon these pictures of Rich and the museum. And apparently, Rich is a young-earth creationist, or at least a Christian. Who knew?

Although, really, is there any better way to demonstrate the post-Fall depravity of man than to provide a fellow human being with a thorough trouncing?

Out Of the Mouth of a UFC Announcer

Again with the latest UFC offering. This time, Ethan is here to watch the bloody pulps with cauliflower ears and vaseline smeared on their faces pummel each other. I asked Ethan the question I continue to plague Seth with: if you were an ultimate fighter, what would your name? He ignored me as much as his brother does, except that Ethan said, "I'd never be an ultimate fighter so it doesn't matter." It's not about reality, Ethan, it's about using one's imagination to place oneself in a situation one doesn't otherwise find oneself in.

Although I'm not technically watching the fights, I can't help but overhear some of the amazing words of wisdom that flow from the mouths of the announcers. This latest one was simply poetic: "It's very difficult to win a fight by running away." Why yes, yes it is.

Co-Main Event?

Seth is watching the lastest UFC offering on tape. After hearing that Matt "The Terra" Serra was fighting, I suggested to Seth that his UFC name could be Seth "The Beth" or Seth "The Meth," neither of which thrilled Seth. What rhymes with Seth, though? Later, I suggested he adopt an already-taken name: McLovin'. Again my offerings were met with disdain. I'm beginning to think that Seth is destined to remain UFC nameless.

It amuses me to hear after every fight the winner proudly proclaim, "I'm thankful to God." Thankful for what? That you beat your opponent (one who is also created in the image of God) to a bloody pulp? That you punched him in the gut, bashed his nose in, and then put him in a rear naked choke that brought him to his knees? I'm willing to give most of them the benefit of the doubt and suggest that perhaps they really don't understand what they're saying--after all, this is only the fifth concussion they've suffered this year.

The other thing that amused me with this UFC (not that I was watching--I was reading Reader's Digest) is that they had a co-main event. A co-main event? You can't have a co-main event. An event is either the main event or it's not. There's no such thing as a co-main event. Well, apparently there is in UFC land. Again I say: which of them hasn't been affected by a concussion?

My husband, the romantic

I like fruit ... a lot. In fact, I can't think of a fruit I don't like. I like it fresh from the garden (when the birds haven't feasted on the harvest), fresh from the store, on cereal, in salads, for snack, in pies, in cobblers, in sauces, dipped in chocolate ... From the mundane to the exotic, you name it, I'll eat it. (We're pictured here with scrumptious fruit desserts we got at a cafe in Germany in 2006. Seth was a bit shocked at the size of the desserts.)


Seth, on the other hand, takes a different view of fruit. You name it, he doesn't like it. Especially bananas. I've never met anyone who has such a hate-affair with a fruit. What did it ever do to him, I ask? It's not like his mother held him down when he was young and stuck bananas up his nose. I can't even bring a banana into the house without hearing, "What is that stench?" (Did I tell you he also has super-smelling powers? But that's a topic for another blog. Hey -- maybe that could be his UFC name: Seth the Super-Smeller.)


Once, when he was a child, his family was going out to eat at Bonanza. He started crying when his older brother Kevin told him they only served bananas there.


At any rate, Seth's fruit choice is limited to berries and cherries (hence, our yard is full of berry bushes and two cherry trees). And he won't eat them raw--they must be cooked in several cups of sugar and various other ingredients, or baked in pies or cobblers.


Of course, the nice thing is that Seth enjoys making said compote and desserts (and the even nicer thing is that he's good at it). He also likes to decorate the tops of his pies.

When his nephews were visiting a few months ago, he made a cherry pie, after the boys helped to pit the cherries. To thank them, he carved their initials into the top: T for Teel, followed by D for Dane. Then, he decided to add an S for Seth and Stacia. The problem came when he added said S to the left of the TD. We ended up with an STD pie.

His latest attempt at decoration was much more romantic. Pictured here is a blueberry pie that he made the other day, on which he so lovingly carved our initials. All together now, "awwwwwww."

If I were an ultimate fighter ...

Seth likes to watch Ultimate Fighting Championships (note to reader: this is not a blog on the morality of two men beating each other to a bloody pulp in an octagon while being cheered on by the masses ... Rome, anyone?). His boss tapes UFC fights off of pay-per-view and gives them to Seth to watch (part of the employee incentive program?).

He was watching one of the recent UFCs the other night and I was marveling at the inventive names the men had (while trying not to watch the pummeling): Chuck "The Iceman," Andrew "The Assassin," Jake "The Italian Stallion." I asked Seth what he thought his name would be if he were an ultimate fighter. I suggested Seth "The Irish," or Seth "The Sailor" (maybe not so much). He said, "Seth." "That's it ... just Seth?" Apparently he believes his name is enough to inspire fear in the hearts of his opponents.

Note to Seth: When your dad said, "We shall call him Seth," I don't think your mom cried tears of fear. And when I was first introduced to you, "This is Seth," I didn't start screaming in fear. Nor do the people at your place of employment quake in fear when you are paged, "Seth, pick up line 1."

Oh well, it's his fantasy, I suppose!