From the Fan of Death to Annabelle Grace

You probably don't remember what you were doing on June 3, 2012. For the most part, I don't remember what I was doing either. But I do know that I sat down for an hour that day to write the first blog post for A Joint Account. 

This blog post is number 100.

Who cares? That would have been my first reaction when I was in high school or college. (It may still be your reaction now.) I used to think round numbers were overblown. I just couldn't understand what made the 5th, 10th, 25th, or 50th of something such a big deal. Why not have a big party for someone's 29th birthday or 11th anniversary? It seemed stupid.

Now that I'm getting older, though, I get it. First, instead of just saying something was "stupid," I do a little research. It turns out there's this thing called round number bias. Essentially, people prefer round numbers when setting goals and buying things. (This piece, "The psychology of numbers: Why is 100 better than 101?," is pretty darn interesting.) And second, I reflect more now than I did when I was an invincible teenager or 20-something. I use milestones to look back at the process, celebrate successes, and learn from mistakes.

Here, then, are two sets of reflections. First, a look at the blog itself:

• Most popular post: "The Greatest Idea Ever: Baby@Gmail.com" with 513 views. We published it on Saturday, August 10, 2013.
• Least popular post: "Oscar the Incorrigible" with 63 views. We published this on Wednesday, July 25, 2012. (We stopped publishing on weekdays soon after this one.)
• Total page views: 24,780.
• Most posts in a month: 15, which happened in June of 2012. We obviously haven't kept up the pace. No one saw that coming.
• Fewest posts in a month: 1, which happened in October of 2012. We were traveling a lot then, he gave as an excuse for laziness. 
• Bridget's favorite post: "The Story of Belle's Birth" from September 9, 2013. 
• Mike's favorite post: A tie between "The 18 Reasons 2012 Was the Best Year Ever" and "A Letter to My Daughter Before She's Born." 

Second, some reflections on why we've kept this blog going for almost two years of our lives. (It shows an interesting life trajectory, from summer concerts and half marathons, to maternity leave and being boring new parents.) So, why have we been blogging for 21 months? There are three main reasons:

1. The blog gives us both a chance to work on our writing. We both love to do it, and the blog gives us the structure and motivation we need. Is there anything more exciting than a blank piece of paper ready to be filled with words, sentences, paragraphs, and stories? 
2. It's a great way to keep a record of our family's life. (It's so easy to forget things when you don't write them down, isn't it?) We can look back at the days when the "Fan of Death" and magazine clutter were our biggest concerns. And now, since we have Belle, we're hoping she'll really enjoy reading through these stories when she gets older. (To make the memories even more tangible, my sister gave us a book of our blogs (that's the photo at the top) for our first wedding anniversary. It was very sweet.) In short, the blog helps us keep memories fresh and alive. 
3. The blog helps us connect with other people. In essence, it's a conversation starter. Hundreds of times in the past two years, someone has made a comment to either me or Bridget about the blog. (Most of the comments are complimentary, which is very nice. A few comments, mostly from male friends, are insults, but it's important to stay grounded.) Simply put, the blog makes our life more interesting. 

Some people tell us they love our blog (which is humbling) and other people might find it obnoxious (which is cool, too). Like it or hate it, we've had a lot of fun with it. When will we stop? Who knows? But, for now, on to the next 100 ...

The Trouble With Bedtime

The first disagreement Mike and I ever had was about bedtime. Mike took that position that going to bed at the same time was romantic. He said he liked everyone to be all tucked in and tuckered out at the same time (I'm clearly paraphrasing here. I don't believe he has ever used the phrase "tuckered out." Thank gawd.). At the time of this bold declaration, I was a devout night owl.  When no one is around to tell me to go to bed, I'll likely be found passed out on the couch, makeup smeared across my face, teeth unbrushed, with half a sandwich hanging out of my mouth. So I reacted badly to this idea of forced bedtime. Especially since Mike is an early-to-bed-early-to-rise-take-an-agressive-mid-afternoon-nap kinda guy. Mike is sensible. Mike always brushes his teeth before bed. Mike always goes to bed at a reasonable hour.

After much initial protest, I ultimately decided to try things Mike's way for a bit. And it turns out, it is actually really nice to get eight hours of sleep. I never knew I could feel so rested! So alive! I even liked turning in early and reading our Kindles together until we fell asleep (barf, I know).

But then something came along to ruin this domestic bliss. And that something is the iPad.

Lately, I'll more likely than not be found curled on the couch with my iPad, gleefully tapping away at its shiny screen until the wee hours. What am I doing, you (and Mike) may ask? Oh, you know, the usual. Going to various retailer websites and playing the, "I'm independently wealthy and can buy anything I want" game. (This game involves perusing said retailer's site for hours and putting all the things I would like into my shopping cart....with NO regard for price!! Shocking, I know. Let me be clear, I don't actually buy anything. That is not part of the game. Simply looking at my full cart with things I can't afford is somehow pleasure enough. I may have a problem. )

I can also be found perusing various blogs. Some about house tweaking, others about celebrities. I'll check all my bank and credit card accounts, mint.com and loans. Just to be sure they are all still there. I'll check the news. I'll check Facebook about a million times just in case someone posts something interesting (spoiler alert, no one does).  I'll also check email incessantly just in case I get some good spam. Then I'll move to sites like RueLaLa.com, Gilt.com, and OneKingsLane.com to look at all the things I really shouldn't buy.

But the majority of my time is spent reading magazines. I subscribe to this wondrous and magical thing called Next Issue. Next Issue is an app that allows me to read virtually every magazine worth reading (and many that are not - I'm looking at you, Wood magazine) for one monthly fee. Something like 60+ magazines. All at my fingertips. It almost makes my head explode. I've died and gone to magazine heaven.

Long story short, I spend a lot of time on my iPad. And it is getting harder and harder to turn in early when I still have 55 magazines left to read. This makes Mike sad, not only because he likes us falling asleep together, but more importantly, when he goes to bed before me there is no one there to catch his Kindle when he falls asleep with it against his face. This is my designated job (seriously, I have to do it. I wrote it into my vows.)

But after too many nights with my iPad and with Oscar distraught because he can't handle when the two of us are in separate rooms, I start to miss my husband. Because that time before bed when we disconnect from the world and read together is that kind of elusive quality time that you don't appreciate until you start to miss it. And I miss it. So tonight, I'm putting away the iPad.

Really? Another Magazine?

To say Bridget likes magazines is like saying little kids like ice cream and ponies. Or rednecks like Budweiser, mullets, and cars on cinder blocks. Or this kid liked getting a Nintendo 64 in 2006.

We're not talking like. We're talking love.

In fact, we're talking 22.2 pounds of love. I just weighed the last couple months of her magazines five minutes ago so I could get my facts straight. My question here is simple: Why? Why in the world does someone need all these magazines? (To be fair, this is not necessarily unique to lovely Bridget. There are several other women I know who would rather lose their left arm than their subscription to Marie Claire.)

Every day when I check our buckling mailbox, it's the same. Or, I guess, more correctly, it's different. Some days it's Rolling Stone, Entertainment, and Boston. Other days, it's Lucky, Women's Health, and Real Simple. But every day, like it or not, they come.

Does she read them all? Heck no. In fact, many of them sit in this snazzy container I bought her for last Christmas for months. ("A magazine container, Mike? How romantic!" ... "I know, I know. I spoil her.) I, on the other hand, find a couple articles in Sports Illustrated or The New Yorker and then go about my business for the week.

So, please, readers, help. Help me understand this little idiosyncrasy. What is this obsession with glossy pictures and regurgitated articles about hair, gardening, and the new exercise that will cut your weight in half by tomorrow? Are magazines just for comfort? Do they really add value? Are they just there to keep the scale busy?

Thoughts and comments are, as always, welcomed.