Advice You Didn't Ask For: The Way to a Man's Heart...

I'm really excited.  Wanna know why?  Because today I'm starting my first series of posts!  Allow me to introduce "Advice You Didn't Ask For".  

You all know that anytime you have a major event in your life like starting a new job, moving in with your partner, getting married, or having a child brings out "those people" who like to offer you advice you definitely didn't ask for.  I know that I've had my fair share of the advice givers that have caused me to smile politely, nod my head as if I'm paying attention, and then roll my eyes the minute the person isn't looking.  It seems like many people who have ever gone through a significant life event have automatically become experts on the topic and just can't help but warn you and advise you on the "situations" you will face.  

My goal with this blog series is to highlight some of those pieces of advice that are given without asking.  Sometimes I will show how the advice actually paid off.  Sometimes I'll share how absolutely WRONG the advice is.  And sometimes, I'll share weird advice that's been given to me that's left me scratching my head and questioning how I ever ended up associating with the person giving the advice.  Believe me, in my eighteen years of adulthood, I've received enough advice I didn't ask for to write a book.  Instead, I'm settling for a blog series that will give me a writing topic each and every Wednesday for the rest of my blogging life.

So, without further ado, let me introduce this week's piece of advice you didn't ask for:

"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Come on, you know you've heard this piece of advice.  I will place bets that it was either your mother, grandmother, or some random, older lady sitting next to you on a bus that looks down and sees an engagement ring on your finger.   It's one of the oldest pieces of advice in the book to any woman who's in a new relationship, newly engaged, or newly married.  

If you ever encounter one of these sweet, older ladies and you want to give them a little sarcastic humor, feel free to look at them with a shocked face and say something like:

"Seriously?  My mom always said the way to a man's heart is through his zipper!"

Or...

"Nah, my man said I won his heart the minute I walked around the house in my underwear."

Although, I don't advise using these lines if it's your sweet, 90 year old grandma or future mother-in-law.  Actually, just scratch that altogether.  Just say it in your head, smile politely, and just give that agreeable nod.  You don't want his grandma or mom thinking you're some harlot corrupting her innocent grandson/son, or worse yet, your grandma wondering what on earth went wrong with your upbringing.

I've been given this piece of advice with each relationship I've had in my life (all three of them).  This piece of advice always made my eyes roll because the sad truth was, I didn't cook.  I hated cooking.  My equal-rights, woman power defensive mode would switch on, and I'd think to myself, "yeah, I like to eat too, so he better recognize that the way to MY heart is through MY stomach".  

What I've come to realize, however, is that this piece of advice is very, VERY true.  Even though I never asked for this advice, and I had heard the saying a gazillion times, it wasn't until after I got married three years ago that I realized the real meaning and truthfulness to this statement.

So, let me go back to my statement about not cooking and hating to cook.  I've always been like that.  In fact, my children can attest to this better than anyone.  My oldest refers to herself as "a Chef Boyardee kid".  That means she spent a great deal of her childhood eating food that wasn't prepared from scratch, with the love and endearment that many parents put into the foods they prepare for their children.  Foods such as hot dogs, mac & cheese, Chef Boyardee ravioli and spaghetti rings, ramen noodles, frozen pizza, and Hamburger Helper were the food staples while my kids were growing up. My idea of a homemade meal was cooking up some hamburger meat and spaghetti and throwing in a jar of spaghetti sauce.  If I wanted to get really fancy, I'd throw some frozen garlic bread in the oven to eat with it.  The last thing I wanted to do after working all day was come home and cook some big, fancy meal.  My kids ate, they didn't starve, don't judge me.

Cooking just wasn't ever my "thing".  In all honesty, it still isn't.  A couple times a week, I muster up the desire to cook a meal that's considered "homemade worthy", but for the most part I'm looking for ways to get in and out of the kitchen as quickly as possible with dirtying up the least amount of dishes.  

What I've found, though, is paving a path to your hubby's heart IS through his stomach, it just doesn't have to be done with fancy, three hour prep, made from scratch dishes.

My husband can eat.  Boy, can he eat.  And he's one of those people that can eat, and eat, and eat, and still walk around sporting six-pack abs and fit physique.  I, on the other hand, look at a slice of bread and gain 5lbs. (Insert eye-roll).  Due to the fact that my husband has the highest metabolism I've ever encountered in my life, he requires food on a regular basis.  At first, I saw this as a problem.  I mean, not a problem per-say, more of an inconvenience.  I don't like cooking to begin with, and I'm going to marry a man that wants to eat more than the one meal a day I'm used to preparing?  Uh, check please!

The truth is, he is so happy and appreciative to ANY food that I prepare for him.  That's the part Grandma forgets to tell you.  Grandma likes to lay it on thick with the explaining how she got up at 4 AM every morning, just to cook Grandpa's breakfast.  Then, she'd cook or prepare a hearty lunch for him to take to work, and if that wasn't enough, at 3 PM she'd start preparing the evening meal that took her about 3 hours to prepare and cook.  Ain't Nobody Got Time For That!! Am I right, ladies?

You know what's even better?  I'll get to tell my grandkids, one day, that the way to Grandpa's heart was through his stomach, I'll just make sure I let them know that I didn't have to work hard to keep his heart (and stomach) happy.

It amazes me each and every day how happy my husband makes me with his excitement of being fed.  Many mornings, I'll cook him a bagel or something quick for breakfast.  Everyday, I pack him a lunch to take to work consisting of a couple sandwiches and some chips or other type of snack.  When he comes home in the evening, he's greeted with something I've prepared (aka thrown in the oven) for dinner.  And not a day goes by that my husband doesn't melt and shower me with love just from having the food prepared for him.  He doesn't give a flying flip how fancy the food is or how quick and easy it was for me throw it together.  As long as he has some food, he's happier than a pig in mud.  

What's even weirder is that as time has gone on, I've found myself wanting to get more creative with my cooking and prepare him more homemade style meals.  I look at it as if he gets THAT excited over some hamburger meat covered in a jar of spaghetti sauce slopped on top of some angel hair pasta, then what happens when I add bell peppers, onions, mushrooms and some spices of my own?  What happens is he showers me in compliments, savors every bite, and makes me feel like a Michelin Star chef.  

This summer, I've stepped out of my comfort zone a little and got a little more comfortable in the kitchen.  I've used some recipes, I've made some of my own creations, I've sat in front of the TV and watched episodes of Chopped to get some inspiration, and I've tried to be a little more "wifey" and make some homemade meals.  And, I'm not gonna lie, I'm doing it 100% for the attention I get for doing it.  I don't think it'll ever get old to see the look on his face when he walks in the door, takes a big sniff, and his whole face lights up in anticipation and excitement.  I don't think I'll ever tire of hearing how much of an amazing wife I am for simply throwing some cream cheese on a bagel and fixing a couple of turkey or PB&J sandwiches for him to take for lunch.  And I know for a fact that I won't EVER get tired of him cooking for me on the weekends because "I've spent all week taking care of him, and now it's my turn to be pampered".  Oh yes, he does that, and it's A-W-E-S-O-M-E!!  

Just yesterday, I was encountered with the well-known "I don't know what to fix for dinner" syndrome.  It happens a lot.  I've got some hamburger meat thawing, but I have NO idea what I'm going to do with it.  My first reaction is I'm going to grab some frozen pizzas and save the hamburger meat for something else the next day.  The problem is, Casey isn't going to be home until around 6 PM, he has my car, his car doesn't have brake lights (why he's driving my car), and I can't get to the store to buy the frozen pizza.  I start perusing through my cabinets, sizing up what I can throw together and call a meal.  I find a box of Jambalaya mix, got some canned veggies, and wah-la, I've got the ingredients for something. I cooked up the hamburger, threw in the mix, threw in a can of corn and green beans, added some garlic, sprinkled in some onion powder and other spices, sauced it up with some salsa, and dinner was ready.  I just knew he was going to take one look at the stuff and question what the heck I was thinking.  But, you know what?  It didn't actually taste that bad.  Even better was the fact that he ate it, with his normal showering of compliments, and didn't bat an eyelid to the fact that I literally threw some stuff we had in the pantry together and called it a meal.  

It's stuff like that reaction that makes me realize that just the act of providing my husband something he can put in his belly after a long, grueling day at work is the way to his heart.  And the part of the advice that I can add is that it's also the way to MY heart.  I love making my husband smile.  I love hearing his compliments and praises at how awesome I am.  

So, in closing, I'm going to say that this piece of advice, while often not asked for, is important and true.  I will add, however, that if your husband is anything like mine, any form of sustenance you put in front of him will make him happy.  You don't have to slave over a stove for hours.  You don't have to plan, prep, chop, and plate a gourmet meal in order to win over his heart.  You just need to feed the guy, after he's worked all day and just wants something in his belly.  He'll be happy no matter what it is.

And there's my first piece of advice you didn't ask for.  You're welcome.