3: #corrupted

My husband is real crunchy.  Like, Nature Valley granola bar kind of crunchy.  Like, hasn’t used shampoo in years, only uses Dr. Bronner’s soap, doesn’t allow a TV or microwave in our house, keeps bees in our backyard, rode his bike across two continents just for the experience of it kind of crunchy.  His mom had all four of her children via home birth and legend has it there are placentas buried in the backyard.  He grew up eating organic food, listening to Classical music while he read dictionaries for me.  

Me on the other hand, I was the queen of keeping up on aaaaaaaall the reality TV before we got together.  I worked out enough that Fat Friday was a thing – that’s eating tasty, unhealthy food while sitting in front of the TV, usually with a tub of cookie dough in hand to finish it all off.  Growing up, the bedrock of every single family decision from what toothpaste we bought to where I went to college was based on money.  My hardworking, high school educated parents were both raised in the same small town I was.  There was one way to do things.  Everyone in our town agreed on that.  Even though I got out, there were plenty of things that just didn’t occur to me to question. Being healthy boiled down to whether you ordered meat and potatoes or an iceberg salad doused in ranch dressing when you went to the local supper club for dinner.  Child rearing…can you get your kid confirmed, out of high school, and married?  If yes, you done good.  Things were simple, people were simple and good natured, doing things differently was logistically tough and would get you ostracized.  Our town is filled with taverns and churches but didn’t even have a gym until I was out of high school.  I was voted “Hometown Hero” by my senior high school classmates and the only thing I did differently than them was run outside for exercise and have a plan to go to a great college that my parents didn’t have to pay for.

Fast forward to a lifetime later…my husband and I got drunk on our first date.  It was a great first date.  The best first date ever actually.  We broke a lot of first date rules (committed to dinner right away, the restaurant didn’t take AMEX so I had to pay, did I mention we got ham-mered?) but I can still remember the sobering moment where he looked at me in earnest and said that he hoped if we worked out I’d consider a home birth and certainly would not be partaking in the barbarous ritual of butchering of our son’s penis.  “Well damn,” I said, “I thought I was on the cutting edge because I planned not to have drugs.”  And that’s how he is.  He just states the way things should be in a totally non-aggressive, matter-of-fact way.  

When we started adopting each other’s habits as people do when they get together, we would catch ourselves doing something very out of character and then say #corrupted.  In the three years we’ve been together I’ve been shocked by how right he’s been about all things health and wellness.  As the athlete and general know-it-all in the family, it really pisses me off actually.  So imagine my surprise to find that especially since we started trying to get pregnant, I just get closer and closer to his crazy ideas about the way to do things.  Never, never in my life did I think I’d be brushing with Tom’s, using deodorant rather than prescription strength whatever, shampooing once a week, staying as far away from microwaves as I can, tea-drinking, fermented foods-eating, natural fiber-wearing part time yogi with an acupuncturist.  Oh how the mighty have fallen.  And yes, if we do get pregnant, the plan is for a home birth…for our uncircumcised son.

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