The Art of Compromise, Part II: Husband

I hope everyone had/is having a great weekend! We just got back from spending some time at the lake with Andrew's fam and during a stroke of genius I decided to look up my camera problem in the manual. Turns out the memory card was full and the normal message didn't come up, just an ominous red symbol. Silly me! But enough about that, I promised you a belated guest post from the husband!

Andrew, meet the bloggersphere. Bloggersphere, meet Andrew (for like the 20th time). Now that you know each other formally, have an oyster and enjoy his take on compromise:

Hello, Andrew here. When Lindsey started talking about domestic compromise, I had to admit she has kindly agreed to tolerate her fair share of home décor of my choosing. Although, let’s face it, my childhood pig painting is pretty awesome, right? Why else would my mom have framed it? However, I can point out a few pieces in our home that I wouldn’t mind seeing phased out.
If you have spent much time with Lindsey you know she loves blankets. Always with the blankets! If we watch a movie, she has a blanket, if she’s at her desk, there’s probably a blanket. When she comes down from bed on Saturday mornings, she is, without fail, draped in a blanket. So it’s no surprise that we have tons of comforters and quilts. While there’s nothing wrong with the quantity, I can’t help but think—despite her assurances—these are not in fact gender neutral.

The gender neutral argument doesn’t stop at the blankets though. Look at these curtains in the laundry room:

Pink and brown? I guess that’s compromise. But these look like shower curtains from a college ladies dormitory.

Lindsey thinks this last exhibit should be off limits as we haven’t hung it up in the new house yet. But for two years, every time I went into our bathroom I had to stand there and read this thing telling me to be myself and more importantly… be sassy. Eventually I began to overlook this piece of fine art—however our guests continued to notice. How was I supposed to have a guys’ night when this sign tells them to be sassy every time they pee? This was a gift from Lindsey’s mom…but if I get just one husband interior design veto, I’m calling it on this.

And of course these are the are the salt and pepper dogs…they poop salt and pepper on your food…two thumbs down.

Cheers!
-AA

The Art of Compromise: The Wife Weighs In

Ah, compromise. Any couple who is married, living together or just anyone who has a roommate at all knows that when two (or more) households combine, compromise is essential. Andrew and I unofficially shacked for years and lived together legally (meaning our parents knew about it) for another year before I moved to Tennessee to work. So when I moved back in with him in May, we had a lot more stuff to fit into our little house mainly because I had acquired my own set of furniture, kitchenware, etc. when I got my own apartment.

Andrew is great and he generally lets me have what I want around, though a few things have disappeared (he has later admitted that he just threw them away) and I often find my beloved salt and pepper dogs swept into a drawer. Aren't they adorable? I think they are.


But Andrew will tell you about those things in part two of this post, coming tomorrow ( a guest post!). I'm here to point out a few things, should you walk into my home, that may have you scratching your head a bit. This brings us to exhibit A. Meet the eagle:

As is all the rage, we hang our keys on the eagle. Obviously you should start taking our design advice. (And please note that our walls are normal yellow, not the nasty yellow in these posts.)

The eagle and Andrew go way back, to when he lived in his (now second) favorite house ever--603 South 18th Street. There were three rooms all ranging in size and like a good new tenant he started out in the tiny room and ended up in the big room, but during that time span he also lived for a brief period in the medium-sized room. Which is where he found the eagle hanging on the back of the door. It has been with us ever since, along with an assortment of army attire he found in the attic. At first it was so tacky I had to love it but while it may come as a surprise to you an eagle key holder can get old after three years.

Recently, when I suggested (for the fourth or fifth time this month) that we replace the eagle with a cute "A" keyholder hook from Hobby Lobby, Andrew said, "Only the eagle shall be keeper of the keys."

And so it shall be.

Next we find ourselves in the guest bathroom, where this glorious piece of artwork greets us:

Ah, the pig. Andrew painted the pig. Cute to hang up something your husband made when he was but a tot, right? Wrong. And he totally made it when he was in 10th grade, not 10. Which is what it looks like. I really have nothing else to say about the pig except that he likes it and I kind of like him. And I have some questionable artwork myself.

Our third stop is the television. Keep in mind that I'm not complaining about the television. It's huge and awesome and we love it, but it totally destroyed the living room. We have a beautiful Ikea entertainment center (the day Andrew bought the television I was actually thinking about how much I loved that entertainment center) and it really tied our whole living room together. Here it is:

The living space was about the only area of the house that I was actually pleased with. And then Andrew bought the tv of his dreams, a wedding gift from my mom and grandparents. It's 42 inches, which is the exact width of the entertainment center. Andrew measured it, but didn't take into account that the screen is 42 inches and the plastic part around makes it bigger. So for a few days it sat catty-corner in my beloved entertainment cabinet. Basically I refused to be the wife who made her brand new husband give back the flat screen of his dreams (and as I said it's pretty rockin'.) So I let him decide what to do. He went back and forth and in the end decided to mount it, with the help of his groomsmen and longtime friend Eddie. So the entertainment cabinet was banished to the bedroom (where it actually ties that room together too, so I am quite pleased with its new location.) However, the living room is now a wreck and looks like this: (Please note that the table it's sitting on is the darker side of dumpster diving.)

And last but not least, the exercise bike:

To you this may look like a normal exercise bike but to me, it is my nemesis. I won't get into how it came to be in our home because I sound really spoiled (which I'm not...I don't think) and Andrew sounds really insensitive (which he's not). But since we got it, right around Valentine's Day, it has tormented me and competed for Andrew's attention.

I went downstairs Tuesday to work at my little desk in the spare bedroom and what did I find? To my shock it was the exercise bike, reveling in all the quiet and natural light of the guest room. Where was my workspace? Why I had been exiled to the laundry room, where there are clothes everywhere and the light barely works! And while I hunch over my ill-lit workspace and Sawyer bites my legs I can see the exercise bike out of the corner of my eye, the light hitting it just so.

Score 2 for the exercise bike and 0 for Lindsey.

What about you? Do you have anything random in your house (for example my sister has a gator head) that your significant other loves and you love him/her too much to force it out the door?

Check back tomorrow for Andrew's post on the art of compromise!