Posts tagged ‘Husband’

That’s A Man, Man!

In October 2005, I developed a crush on a 21 year old boy. He was this goofy guy who had adorable dimples, a baby face, and child-like humor. We started dating. Two kids in college, hanging out. We were cute. We had fun. We laughed and played games together. That’s what life is about when you’re 21 years old.

On Saturday, that 21 year old kid turned 26. I am now MARRIED to a 26 year old man. I’m not sure how that happened to me. Just yesterday I was a child. Now I’m married… to a TWENTY SIX year old MAN. Oh dear.

What do adults do on their birthday? A couple years ago we celebrated Stephen’s old age by having an early dinner at Luby’s and then heading to the Bingo hall for a few rounds. (True story.)

This year we went a little nuts. We woke up early and went to a meeting at church. I wore my boots (proof to come). After our meeting we drove through Whataburger and headed into town to visit the Saint Arnold’s Brewery with some friends. They kicked us out at 3:30 so we headed home and did the absolute best thing we could think of. We took a nap. A glorious, brilliant nap. We set our alarm for 6:45 so we could wake up and eat a quick dinner of “things we could make in 5 minutes from the fridge.” At 7:30, some of his dude friends came over to play poker while I went to the back of the house to clean out the scrapbook room.

At the end of the night, we were laying in bed and said multiple times, “That was a great day!” And it was. A day with friends and beer and a nap? I’m really not sure how to top that. Stephen had a bit of an idea… at 1:30 in the morning just as we were about to go to bed he turned to me with sad eyes and said, “Do you want to play ping pong with me???”

Ugh. Sad to say, I said no. It was in the 20’s and regardless of what Stephen may say, just because the garage is protected from wind, it’s not protected from temperature. Plus, at that point his birthday was over so I didn’t have to do something so ridiculous. But the good news is that it was a great reminder that he’s still a kid. Even though he’s MUCH closer to 30 than he is to 20, he’s still fun and cute and he still has great dimples.

Happy belated to my husband. He’s one of the kindest, most thoughtful men you’ll ever meet. He’s a friend to all and he’ll put his life to the side if you need him to. He’s quirky and funny and he has the best place right under his arm to cuddle into. He makes excellent omelets and is shockingly good at reorganizing a room. Stephen, I love you and I’m proud of you every single day. I think God has awesome plans for you and me and I can’t wait to see what they are. Thanks for being a kid and for not taking life so serious. Sorry about all of my gray hair.

For those of you who live in or around Houston, I highly recommend a trip to the Saint Arnold Brewery (<–link). We really had no idea what to expect but we knew that if it involved beer, we could get on board. You just show up, wait in line, wait in another line, pay, and you’re in. You pay $7 for a cute Saint Arnold half pint glass and 4 bottle caps. Each bottle cap is worth a half pint of beer. So… 2 pints for $7. Crazy cheap. You basically go into this big warehouse looking room and hang out. People brought pizzas and games and just hung out. Luckily one of our friends had cards so we were able to sit on the floor and play spoons… only we had to use pennies because none of us happened to have that many spoons on hand.

Anyways, I suggest you go try it out. And call me when you do because we totally want to go again!

Check out these fun bottle caps.

And here is picture proof of my boots in public, again. They are making regular appearances.

By the way, that red brick-looking tile is the EXACT same tile we have in our living room and entry way. See why we want wood floors??

Happy Monday! Make sure you wish Esteban a happy belated birthday and if you haven’t entered the calendar giveaway, you can click here to do it.

**Ten on Tuesday questions are up!

January 11, 2010 at 9:48 am 28 comments

Voting, Christmas, and Hot Godly Men

I’m pretty sure God intended me to have a blog so that I could share the hilarity of my life with people I don’t know. I share stories about Stephen on a regular basis but you don’t hear about other members of my family that often. Today is your lucky day.

Stephen was in a wedding over the weekend and I was kicked out of the house one night so that the groomsmen could drink beer and play poker without any women-folk interfering. So I stayed at my parents house a few blocks over. Sunday morning we were in the kitchen, about to head off to church. My mom has recently been seeking the fashion advice of my sister and I. (I don’t really think I’m someone to be giving out advice on that subject, but whatever.) Last week my mom wanted to wear her new sweater dress with leggings and boots. She wasn’t sure she could pull it off though. So she went up to my sister’s room and woke her up.

Mom- Hey.
Sister- (Groggy.) What?
Mom- Do I look like a slut?

Nice, mom. For the record, she didn’t. She looked totally cute and got a bagillion compliments.

But this weekend she asked her oldest daughter.

Mom- Hey.
Me- Yes.
Mom- You know how you hear all those stories about ugly Christmas sweaters?
Me- Yeah.
Mom- Um. (pause) Is this one?

And then I laughed. I told her no. It wasn’t an ugly Christmas sweater. It was just a mommy Christmas sweater. But we’ll let you place your vote. She doesn’t want to wear something that makes her look dumb.

Sorry about the lighting, I’m not P Dub.

We happened to see an awful Christmas sweater just an hour later while we were at church so I was able to educate her on what a true ugly Christmas sweater was all about. They really should be banned from Christmas.

Want to know what else should be banned from Christmas? Ridiculous Christmas songs that make no sense. I’ve heard multiple examples of this over the past couple weeks and I’m not going to get into it too much. I just want to point one thing out. You know that song “When Christmas Comes To Town” from Polar Express? Yeah, I actually like that song. I think it’s pretty. But last week I heard a line that made me rolls my eyes and say, “Oh puh-lease!”

“When Santa’s sleigh bells ring, I listen all around. The herald angels sing, I never hear a sound.”

I’m sorry what? Last time I check, the angels don’t sing for Santa. They sing when Jesus comes to town, not Santa. Or did I read the story wrong? Excuse me while I consult Luke 2.

Fortunately I had the opportunity to sing about the true harold angels this weekend. I went to the Glory in the Highest concert with Chris Tomlin and Louie Giglio. Well, I didn’t go with them. I went to the Glory in the Highest concert featuring Chris Tomlin and Louie Giglio. (Although maybe I should have kept that sentence as it was so you think I’m a bigger deal than I am.) Regardless, I was there and they were there. Boy howdy, were they there!! It was phenomenal. I think Chris is, hands down, the greatest worship leader out there. His voice, his words, his talent. Fabulous.

In case you haven’t heard, Chris is Stephany’s future husband. In fact, I think many women think that he is their future husband. There’s just something about a hot, godly man. They make you smile.

I should know.

(ToT questions will be posted shortly. It’s the Christmas edition! If you participate in this week’s ToT on your blog, you’ll get an extra entry in this Friday’s giveaway. I know you don’t know what it is yet, but does it really matter? Also, while we are talking giveaways. My mom and sister expressed their sadness that they can’t win since they are related. I told them they could win. But they assured me it wouldn’t be fair and you guys would get mad. So lets put that up to a vote too. Two things to vote on today: Is my mom’s sweater ugly? AND Can people related to me win the giveaways?)

December 21, 2009 at 9:38 am 23 comments

Attacks on Black Friday

(Okay so this is long but I have so many things to tell you! I just can’t help it! Deal with it. I’ll be having a giveaway tomorrow so you can’t stay mad at me for long.)

I love my husband. This is no secret. He makes me happy, he makes me laugh, he makes you laugh. But, you know, we’re married. And when you are married and live in the same house, sometimes you take your spouse for granted. (I very often tell Stephen how lucky he is to have a wife who cooks dinner for him every night. But then I remember that he’s okay with fast food and take out every day, and that just makes me want to kick him in the shins.)

Tuesday night was a night that God practically came into my house and said, “Chelsea, don’t take your husband for granted.”

We got home from work fairly late since we had a couple errands to run. I went to the kitchen to preheat the oven for my “Mexican Chicken Made With Turkey, Therefore Mexican Turkey.” Stephen went to the living room to turn on the television so his wife wouldn’t miss a single second of Biggest Loser. I then went into our spare room where Rookie hangs out while we’re gone.

“Oh my gosh. Oh. my. gosh. OH MY GOSH. Stephen. Oh my gosh.”

A few seconds went by before Stephen could pull himself away from Obama on television. He came in. “Oh my gosh.”

Explosive dog diarrhea all over. We had white carpet and white walls. No longer. We had a house that didn’t smell like crap. No longer. It was awful. Terrible. I gagged. I wanted to hug and comfort my poor dog who had never dumped indoors ever before. But I didn’t touch her… because well, she’d just diarrhea-ed all over and that stuff tends to get on everything. And you want to know what my amazing husband did?? He turned to me and said, “You go finish dinner and get ready for Loser. I’ll clean this up.”

Lord bless him. Like, a lot.

(For the record, you can’t clean 972 liquid crap stains out of white carpet with normal “over the counter” cleaner. Stanley Steemer is at my house at this very moment. I didn’t tell them what they had to look forward to. I thought it would be a nice surprise.)

Now do you all have good feelings in your mind about Stephen? Do you love him just a little bit more? Okay, hold on to that feeling because some of you aren’t going to like the rest of this. It’s about hunting.

Some of you won’t care. Like my friend Lyndsey. If you can drink a glass of wine while watching a deer get gutted, we’re probably on the same page. She and I are on the same page. If I sat her down and showed her these photos and told her these stores, she wouldn’t say, “Oh gross! Blood!” She’d say something cool like, “Sweet. Who shot him? How many points is he?” If you can relate, you’re probably from Texas. Or maybe you should move here. Anyways, if you start reading and don’t like it, skip the pictures. I’m posting the “nicest” of the batch but some people can’t handle it. You’ve been warned.

We spent Wednesday through Saturday last week in a small town south of a small town in south Texas. Also known as: Practically Mexico. My Papa works for a bank in another small town in south Texas and has access to their hunting camp. On holidays when we’ve prayed real hard, we get to use it. It’s fabulous… as far as hunting camps go.

Last year Stephen shot his first deer. And coyote. And quail. And dove. And probably 4 or 5 other species. He was thrilled because he’s a man and that sort of thing makes him puff his chest. I was thrilled because that meant I had venison in my freezer and wouldn’t have to buy ground beef for a long time. And then I ate it and wanted to hurl. It was awful. Stephen loved it, but he loves everything that isn’t soup.

So this year I told him not to kill a deer. I don’t want that funk in my freezer. I just end up making crappy meals that I hate. So his goal was to get a rabbit. One rabbit. That’s all he wanted. Then my parents said they wouldn’t mind having some venison, so if he shot a deer, they’d take it. Then my brother (who wasn’t able to come with us because his wife is 8 months pregnant) said he’d like some sausage, so if he shot a deer and a hog, he’d take it. New mission: kill a rabbit, a hog, and a deer large enough to split between multiple people.

Let me tell you one thing about my studly husband. He doesn’t miss. Seriously. So when he went out to the blind on the first morning he was vewy vewy qwiet as he was hunting wabbits. A rabbit he wanted, a rabbit he got.

Here he is waiting for Papa to pull the truck a bit closer so he doesn’t have to haul this beast too far.

I’m not sure if there’s enough space in the freezer to store all that meat.

I mentally reorganized my freezer and made peace with the fact that there would be a large rodent in there. And I didn’t really care if he killed anything else because it wasn’t coming home with us. He had other ideas.

See that buck spooning that hog? Those are Stephen’s. Here is Texas, our animals comfort each other in their time of need. Either that or they were cuddling and trying to get used to each other since they knew it’s only a matter of time that they’d be put together forever in the form of sausage.

Sometimes I pretend that it’s my deer because it makes me feel tough. Like a modern day Annie Oakley. Then I let Stephen jump in and do the dirty work.

Check out how focused he is. For those of you who don’t know anything about cleaning a deer, one wrong cut and you’ve ruined some good meat. And another wrong cut and you’ve ruin a good finger. Slow and steady wins the race here. So while he focuses on not hurting himself or his dinner, I focus on having a beer and staying a safe distance from blood and stink.

That’s my sister, can you tell? That’s my scarf too, can you tell?

I don’t have many pictures of the hog for you. Most of the ones I have involve a lot of blood, guts, and bones. Something tells me that if I post them you’ll throw a fit. I’ll share this one final one with you. This is after the gutting but before the skinning and especially gory parts.

On Saturday we took the meat to my aunt and uncle’s house to process it. My uncle cooked up some patties and, turns out, I like venison. I think we must’ve had a bad deer last year. The meat is WORLDS apart. I could never understand why people like it. So now I really do have a full freezer.

And that, my friends, is how Texas does Thanksgiving. Jealous? Just wait until tomorrow when you see how we do Christmas.

December 3, 2009 at 9:16 am 25 comments

Budget Shmudget

I had a fantastic weekend. Friday night was our blogger meetup. We went to Gravitas. They were really accommodating and we had a great area set aside just for us with a fabulous bartender. With that said, if I’m going to give it a TRUE review, I have to tell you that it was a bit pricey. They had this amazing drink made with strawberry and vanilla infused vodka. It was incredible! Although it was also $9 and that hurts me a bit.

Saturday I dropped Rookie off at her grandparents’ house because I love free child care and headed up to visit Lauren (from Texas). Stephen was out of town on a bachelor party camping trip so she invited me to spend Halloween with her and her family. God blessed us with a BEAUTIFUL day so we spent the entire afternoon and evening outside. I got to meet her family and eat her dad’s red beans and rice. By this point in our blog relationship, you should know that I don’t eat any sort of tubed meats. To clarify, it’s not that I absolutely will not eat it, it means that I don’t really enjoy it. However, these red beans and rice had sausage in it and they were shockingly delicious. The flavor of the beans was out of this world. I had a great time hanging out with them and think her mom must have really wanted me to like her because she let me sit in front of a campfire and make s’mores. It worked.

I stayed the night at Lauren’s on Saturday night. On Sunday we sat in the kitchen reading cookbooks and working on our weekly meal plans while her husband watched football with their dogs. I realized that it’s fun to do meal plans with someone else. You get to try new recipes and get new ideas. If you’ve never done it, do it. Find someone with a similar cooking style. Oh and also, with the same food budget.

This is huge. Lauren and I both keep our families on strict budgets. We buy sale items and do happy dances when we find bargains. If you can’t relate, then it will make no sense to you when I say that I get a high when I think about saving money.

Stephen and I are pretty anti-debt. Not entirely, but for the most part. We know that there are a few areas of life that often require debt. Houses, cars, and college. But beyond that, no debt. So when we need something, we have to budget. My mom recently bought us a beautiful dining room table that she found at a resale shop. It is brand new table but the furniture store took it to the resale shop because there weren’t any chairs. It was only $100 and it is gorgeous. So we need to buy 8 pub height chairs and those are not cheap. The going rate for chairs is about $129-$169 for a set of two. Do the math. We aren’t talking pocket change here. So we’re saving. We probably won’t be getting them until the new year since this is such an expensive time of year. And we are okay with that, as long as we plan for it.

Stephen also has a desire to bike. He’d like to get a road bike and take this up as a hobby. He’s been casually saying this for a couple years and he’s finally decided he’s serious. We talked about it and decided we’d start budgeting to get him a bike. I don’t even want to tell you the price of bikes because if I type it, it might make it real. Little by little we are setting money aside for this. So every penny matters.

I have a couple ideas for Stephen’s Christmas present. His birthday is in January so I have to buy two gifts each year. I really think we should start celebrating his birthday on his half birthday so we can spread it out a bit. But whatever, nobody asked me. I was flippng though an ad on Saturday and saw that one of the items I was thinking about was on sale. I figured now was as good a time as any to go get it. (Sorry I can’t tell you what it is, he reads this. Check back on December 26. I’m sure the anticipation is killing you.) Not only was this item on sale, but there was a mail-in rebate as well. So I went to the store on the way home from Lauren’s on Sunday. I found my item and didn’t see the rebate form next to it. I went to check out and asked the lady if the form would print out. She seemed very unclear about what I was talking about.

This annoys me. I tried to stay calm but it really bothers me when people have NO clue what they are talking about when it is their job to help. So I explain… “This ______ is regularly $___ but it’s on sale for $____ and there is an additional $___ mail-in rebate. I need the form for the mail-in rebate. Do you have any idea where I get that? They are normally located by the product but it wasn’t over there. Did it print out when you finished my transaction?” Crickets. Ugh. She stared at me and said, “I think it’s in the box.” Umm, no. I told her that’s not how rebates work and I was 99.9% sure the form was not in the box. “I think it is. With that paper that tells you that it will work for a certain amount of time.” Oh dear. “The warranty? No. The warranty comes in the box, the mail-in rebate does not. Can you please tell me who to talk to so I can get this figured out because I don’t want it without the form.” FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER after she’s checked out 3 other people and talked to 2 people on her walkie talkie (“This lady needs her warranty-” “No, rebate.” “–Oh, her rebate.”) she tells me to walk back over to the product to find the form and Evelyn who is supposed to be helping me. I walked back over there… still no form. And I assume there was no Evelyn, although I wouldn’t know because I have no clue who Evelyn even is. I made my way back to my lovely cashier and she asked me if I found Evelyn. “Well, I actually don’t know Evelyn so can you just return this. This is getting ridiculous. I’ll go to another store.” And then Evelyn showed up with my form.

It may be important to know that the rebate was for $10. I told you, every penny matters. I will do anything to save a few bucks. Our budget doesn’t have much wiggle room so I think it’s important to do what we can to protect our precious budget. However, you can be as careful as you want but sometimes things come up. Sometimes something comes around and smashes your budget… and your husband’s nose. (Please don’t look at these photos if you have an issue with blood.)


bloody nose

The guys were riding ATVs over the weekend and Stephen hit a branch or a bump or a crater and hit his nose on the handlebar. The ATV didn’t care about our budget. Neither did the doctors.


Luckily the helmet took most of the blow. They said that if he hadn’t been wearing his helmet, he would have smashed his face in. Apparently he tore a lot of tissue in there. He has 8 stitches outside and “a lot” inside. Say a little prayer for him today, he’s in quite a bit of pain.


 It may not be necessary to say this but we definitely won’t ever be fitting an ATV into our budget.



If you are participating in Ten on Tuesday tomorrow, you can find the questions by clicking the “Ten on Tuesday” button on the right. Please don’t post them until tomorrow morning. I’m going to ATTEMPT a Mr. Linky so we can get all of your links in one spot so it’s easier for everyone to visit each other. Bear with me, I’m not good at this blogging thing.

November 2, 2009 at 10:08 am 31 comments

That’s What He Said

I took myself a mini-vacation this weekend. Jealous? Yeah, I know. Stephen and I took his family to Galveston for the weekend to stay at Bella Rose and have a fun-filled family get-away. There were 8 of us: Stephen and I, his parents, his two sisters and their boyfriends. There are a few things you need to know about this group. First, we are a loud bunch. Second, a few members of this group have a tendency to repeat phrases over and over until they are no longer funny… then they repeat them a thousand more times until they somehow become funny again. This weekend the two phrases of choice were “Oh, piece of candy” which apparently comes from an episode of Family Guy or South Park or something, and “That’s What She Said” which, well, if you don’t know where that comes from you can just stop reading my blog right now because we will not get along.

The problem with weekend trips is that you really only get one full day of vacation. Everyone arrived on Friday and we stayed up long enough to unload the cars, chat a bit, and my SIL’s boyfriend to have a cold burrito from Buc-ee’s. Then the eight of us took turns brushing our teeth and getting ready for bed. We needed a good night’s sleep, we had a long day of doing nothing ahead of us. You really don’t want to be tired for that.

We all woke up on Saturday morning at different times. Eventually everyone was up and dressed and we headed to the Sunflower Bakery for some very necessary blueberry pancakes. We ate until we couldn’t speak anymore and then we ate some more. I am obviously overreacting when I say that we ate until we couldn’t speak anymore… because there is really never a time that the 8 of us can’t speak. Not possible. We stuffed ourselves back into our cars and headed to the beach. Texas tends to be bipolar when it comes to weather so we weren’t quite sure what to expect. The great state gave us some beautiful weather but it was a tad too cold to be beaching so we just walked around, took a ton of pictures, and watched Stephen and Shawn chase some crabs.


For some reason I think it’s funny to take a picture of someone taking a picture. It really never gets old for me. I’m aware that it probably gets old for you so I will old post that one, not the one of Stephen taking a picture with his cell phone and his tongue sticking out.


This is the Hurst family. Please ignore my monstrous feet!

We had plans to go to the botanical gardens at Moody Gardens. We got ready to go and then as we were just about to load into the car we realized that we didn’t know where we were going. We called Moody Gardens to figure out where they were located. My brilliant sister-in-law jokingly asked the guy on the phone if the had the botanical gardens. Umm, no. They are closed. Soooo, on to plan B. Problem was that we didn’t have a plan B. We didn’t even really have a plan A.

We eventually decided to head to The Strand and walk around a bit. Remember what I said about the two phrases that were repeated?? Well imagine taking those phrases to a street with three candy stores and a Gay Pride Fest. Phrase number two was edited in honor of the weekend’s events. Hence the title of the blog. Obnoxious? Yes. Slightly inappropriate? Yes. But often outrageously hilarious? Absolutely. Let me just say that if you’ve never had the opportunity to be within ten feet of a gay pride fest, you’re missing out on a lot of leopard print belts, short shorts, giggling, and (oddly enough) plaid Keds. Who knew?

We shopped, visited the Elissa, went to the candy store to watch them make taffy, etc. etc.


Incase you can’t read that sign, that’s the Ike water line. My father-in-law is 6’7… so yeah, it was really high.


That’s a piece of aluminum. There was this machine where you pick a letter, pull a lever, pick a letter, pull a lever, and on and on until you spell what you want. It presses each letter onto this coin. Stephen made one for me. It says, “Stephen Loves Chelsea Always.” Other coins floating around were “Shawn and Heather,” “Ndrev Loves Courtney” (Andrew wasn’t very good at it…), and “That’s What He Said 2009.”


Don’t you love him? He’s so cute. That was at the Elissa. Nothing exciting was going on behind him, he’s just THAT excited to see a ship! Later there were a bunch of men climbing up with harnesses. Stephen was convinced that they were going to repel down but they ended up just doing some work on the sails. The anticipation left us underwhelmed.

Anyways, that’s not what’s important about the weekend. The important thing is that for dinner we had two delicious Pioneer Woman recipes followed by a chocolate cheesecake that made us all die. It was a great food weekend. And since that’s really all I require out of life, I would say that this weekend was one of my favorites in my recent memory! And it may or may not have something to do with sharing an old-fashioned chocolate shake with my hubby!



(Ten on Tuesday tomorrow. If you’re a blogger and want the questions ahead of time, email me. Most of you said you were cool with getting them Tuesday morning, but if you’re a planner like me, I can send them to you. chelsea.hurst (at) hotmail (dot) com)

October 26, 2009 at 9:17 am 25 comments

Ask the Hubby – Round 2

Sit back, grab a beverage, and enjoy round two of “Ask the Hubby.”

From Chelsea’s Mom: What kind of job would you want if salary wasn’t an issue?

Answer: Ok, ok… I’ll admit that this question is above all, the one that really got me thinking and anxious about answering. 

Frankly, Chelsea and I are at a point in our lives where we could technically change careers and it would be the best thing that ever happened to us.  Why?  Because we could then pursue a career of our choice and grow it from now rather than 2, 5, or 10 years from now.  To answer this question honestly, I would have to answer, I would do everything.  I would become an expert guitarist.  I would train for the olympics, I would get an engineering degree in every field imaginable so I could test, figure out, and invent new and exciting things that would help in unimagined and too great ways to realize now.  I would go to seminary and learn everything possible that people have thought about faith, living life, and acting upon instinct and reason.  I would learn how to examine the human psyche and train myself to be the best person I could be to everyone that I know; in the end knowing how to bring them all together.  I would work to help all those people who exist now and who will exist in the future, whether through innovation or through my simple act of going to see the same poor old lady once a week and talking with her family about what promise there is in an education and in Christ and in how wonderful life could be growing in relationships and truly showing others what it is to care.

I would essentially do everything there is, because the only limits to the possibilities that my heart and mind could go after are those that God has created physically for us. 

Right now, the only two certainties that exist within my life are this: money is essential for functioning within society and I have no idea what role I would provide to society if money were not an issue.  Because there is no job where I could do everything, and that is what keeps me up at night.

From John at Sojo Life: Stephen, do you frequently get belly button lint? I have a severe problem with this. It happens constantly. Every time I dig up in there out comes a big bunch of fuzz. How do you suggest I deal with this? Should I make a quilt out of all the fuzz and give it as a christmas present to my little sister?

Answer: There is an epidemic in this country!  Too many people are getting lint in their belly buttons and it’s just showing how much we don’t care for our clothes as they are deteriorating into little lint balls in our stomach hole! 

Answer to this problem!  Wear belly button piercings!  Chelsea swears she never gets belly lint because the lint doesn’t have a place to go since it’s blocked by the stud already there.  Since the hair on our bellies tend to rub the clothing we wear and hence causes the fibers to deteriorate, the natural place for it to go is in the crevasse in our abdomen. 

What a dilemma, John, what a dilemma!  I would say, since you are a guy and probably are adverse to wearing a belly button piercing of some sort (also the army wouldn’t allow it for you), that you should shave your belly of all it’s hair, buy clothing made from non-cotton products, and then put a flesh-colored plug in your belly button to prevent the hole from eating up everything that comes in its path!   …good luck, John, and God speed!

From Gabby at Sweetest P: What is the hardest part about being married for a man? How do you cope? What is the BEST part about being married to Chelsea?

Answer: Isn’t the answer always sex? To all three questions? Ha. I would honestly have to say the hardest part about being married is a combination of two things: respecting each others opinions when they differ and deciding which answer to ultimately stand by.  We cope by talking it out.  And the best thing about being married to Chelsea is that I get to talk and be with the person that is Chelsea and all the wonderful things she is and does!

From Lisa D. at Lisa’s Yarns: (Her questions are three-fold.) 
1. What do you really think about your wife blogging? Do you love it or hate or are you indifferent?
2. When did you know you wanted to marry Chelsea?
3. They always say that men marry women that remind them of their mom. Does Chelsea have mannerisms similar to your mom?

Answer 1: I’m indifferent, but only in that indifferent = the addition of negatives and positives that come from a wife blogger.  I DO enjoy being talked about in a great way!  I DON’T enjoy being talked about in a negative way! (Thanksgiving post!)

Answer 2:I knew I wanted to marry Chelsea when I was forced to think about it because our friend Anneke decided to ask me (the first time I hung out with her btw) “so are you and Chelsea going to get married?”  Honestly, I was too happy to be with Chelsea to even fathom this question at the time.  However, when presented with the question that makes you think about such things, it makes you actually think.  I found that it was an easy answer, in that I was able to say “yes” to almost immediately due to logic, choice, and heart-felt emotion right when Anneke asked it.  I didn’t say that to her though, I merely stuttered at the blatancy (I made this word up) of the question and decided it was time to go play some volleyball to avoid the awkwardness of the moment, since I hardly knew her 🙂

 Answer 3: I would have to plead the 5th on this one.  I refuse to compare and contrast the two.  Since knowing the answer to this question could either (1) disgust me in the similarities of my wife and mother or (2) question how much of my mother I am looking to get away from in my wife, I refuse to even think of them together in the same thought.  What a weird question for any man to answer, please refrain from doing so for any other men, since I’m sure it would put them in the same state of bewildered confusion and repentance of their sins for thinking against their mothers and wives!!!  j/k, but yeah that’s weird.

From Lindsay (Chelsea’s sister): What movie scarred you for life as a child and WHY??

Answer: Movies don’t scar me, my dreams do…

From Molly at Considering Campbells: What is your most embarrassing moment? OOOOOR if that’s not PG, I’ll do the easy question: there’s a fire and you have to get out of the house. What 3 things (not people/pets) would you take with you?

Answer: Since my MOST embarrassing moment includes public nudity, I’ll go with the second answer: painting of Chelsea and I by the China-man, the journal Chelsea made for me everyday in 2006 of the things she loved about me, and the jewelry box I made as a wedding gift for Chelsea.

From Jim at Life on Dayton: Has it been harder for you to find close friends since leaving Austin or harder for Chelsea?

Answer: It’s been equally hard for both of us to find friends since leaving Austin.  I however have grown into a great relationship with two men from our church here, while Chelsea has the misfortune to not have that many new friends close by.  This is both due to Chelsea’s maturity as a person and the lack of said maturity level of the people at the Church her age that she could connect to.

HOWEVER, because Lauren is such a hoss and can be a close friend even from far away; (semi-colons are my favorite punctuation by the way) she is duly counted as a good friend that Chelsea is able to connect with regularly.  Just as my friends and I were able to initially connect through our interest in the Church to grow a close relationship, Chelsea has been able to connect with Lauren (and all you ladies, and some guys) through the blogging world! :^)

Jim, also I miss you.  You are a good friend who I wish could live down the street and could come over for shish-kabobs, because we had those tonight and they would have been great with you and Sarah!


A few notes from the wife (also known as The Owner of This Blog):

-Just as I have a love affair with the comma, Stephen has a love affair with the run-on sentence.

-I’m not sure if “China-man” is an acceptable term. Stephen assured me that it was PC and if anyone has a problem with it, they can yell at him and NOT me.

-Lauren, I told Stephen he wasn’t allowed to call you a “hoss”… that it meant a big, tough man. He disagreed. After a debate we decided to let settle the argument. (You can click that link to go straight to the “hoss” page.) He’d like you to see definitions #1, #3, #5, and #6 – specifically #3. And you are to ignore #2 and #4. And also, we have much more in common than just blogging. But I was not allowed to contribute to his answers…

-Stephen may or may not have had a few glasses of wine before writing this. That’s all I’ll say on that subject.

-I see that I missed Wes’ question – something about are there any games left in the UT schedule that he is particularly worried about. I’ll answer for him. No. His reasons are two-fold. 1) Stephen doesn’t worry about football. 2) UT dominates, we have full confidence and do not worry about them. Heard of Colt McCoy?

-This was the last installment of Ask the Hubby. If there are more questions out there, ask away. We’ll save them for a rainy day. Feel free to add them on future posts as well.

October 5, 2009 at 9:10 am 10 comments

Ask the Hubby – Round 1

Hello everyone in blogging land!  This is The Husband, here to answer any and all your questions.  Since I would probably write something charged with political or religious fervor if left to my own devices, it’s best that I’m on here to answer the questions as prompted by you fine folk!  Below you’ll see what I think on this 1 of 2 Q&A post.  If my answers aren’t up to par for some of you, let me know and I’ll refine my answers on the comment section.

I hope you enjoy!

From This Heavenly Life: What do you consider to be Chelsea’s greatest trait? Or, if that doesn’t count because technically it’s about Chelsea, What’’s your favorite book?

Answer: Chelsea’s greatest trait is the combination of her thoughtfulness and organization and forethought.  Because of this, I have been challenged to grow those characteristics in myself, but when I fail (and always do) she’s there to back up.  Also, because this trait of hers can be a little too organized, I’m there to create the necessity of chaos.

After the Bible (duh), I would have to say Plato’s The Republic.  Reasoning within dialogue is something I value and cherish about these two books.

From Ken Kendall at What She Needs From You: What did you do yesterday to show your wife your commitment to her?

Answer: I left the house for her to throw a bridal shower for a friend.  Also, I cleaned before and after (on my own some and some at her request).  But the obvious answer to this question is that I came home to be with her!  That’s gotta be a big one!

From DebbieQ at Stop Her She’s Knitting: What is your favorite blog post here at Chez Hurst? What was your least favorite?

Answer: I can’t really answer my favorite post since there have been so many that have made me laugh and have been really well thought out in making a point.  Selfishly I want to say all my favorite posts are the ones where I’m mentioned 🙂  …but that’s not true.  My LEAST favorite (most disliked really) would have to be the post where Chelsea critiqued my fashion at Thanksgiving 3 years ago.  I was told to dress comfortably and did so, but no one remembers the night before when I looked very nice!

From Lindsay (Chelsea’s sister): What’s the best part about being my brother? OTHER THAN that means you’re married to my sister…that’s a cop-out answer.

Answer: I would have to say that it’s being able to be comfortable with you as with my own sisters with no strings attached.  Also I get to talk movies with you!

From Lauren from Texas: How do you feel about the fact that Chelsea met one of her favorite people in the world through blogging? And that I could have been an axe murderer?

Answer: I’m ok with it.  You’ve turned out to be really cool, along with Michael.  It’s only OK though for this one instance.  If this turned into a regular e-harmony for friends for Chelsea, I’d be worried because the odds go up in meeting axe murderers the more you meet random people!  You know how all you bloggers can be (just kidding ladies!).

From Kathleen at Kapachino: I would like to ask Stephen about his take on the Internet and specifically the blogging culture. Is he into any social media/networking trends?

Answer: I was into facebook for a while, but honestly, I’m not into any social media / networking trends.  I work all day using a computer, using the internet, and talking to people; the last thing I need to be or want to be involved in is trying to constantly maintain relationships online when there are people I can locally grow deep-personal relationships with.  NOT to say you can’t use social media for good things (see above questioner), but I believe it’s better to grow the deeper relationships with those around you who can be physically and emotionally closer to you.

With specifics to the blogging culture, I was always kind of weirded out by it.  This stems from when my older sister got involved in political blogging back in 2003/4.  The fact that this grouping of people spent what seemed to be a majority of their free time on their blogs made me wary of their opinions and makes me hold off on looking for advise from them.  But since there is a lot more diversity now, and it’s become essentially a journaling forum, I’ve grown to appreciate its purpose and helpful culture.

From Sarah at Life More Exciting: Would you rather have an arm growing out of your forehead or a nose on your butt?

Answer: I would have to say both.  The arm on the forehead would probably be good for getting those hard-to-reach itch spots on the back if you turned just right.  Plus the extra arm would have been really handy (no pun intended) for keeping your head from falling down on your desk during school when you got really tired.

The nose on the butt would be great, because then you could smell the roses without having to bend over!

From Rachel (Chelsea’s blogless friend in Kansas): Why won’t you let Chelsea blog about the blog idea she has? Are you trying to stifle her creativity?

Answer: Haha… no.


Note from Chelsea:
I’m not quite sure why Stephen chose this moment of his life to be serious. After reading through his answers last night I said, “This isn’t very funny.” He looked at me and said, “They aren’t funny questions. They had real questions and I wanted to give them real answers.” Ladies and gents, the man took his job seriously. So thank him for his efforts and honesty!

If today’s answers brought on more questions, ask away. We’ll add them to Round 2.

Also, if you didn’t check in over the weekend, scroll down to read the bonus post!

September 28, 2009 at 8:58 am 11 comments

This Is Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept It

Good morning friends. I don’t know how things are in your part of the country but it is nasty here in Houston. God has presented us with some fantastic napping weather and then forced us all to go to work. I don’t think that’s fair. I’m sure there is a lesson on thanksgiving and contentment somewhere in there… but I’d rather just be annoyed.

My drive to work sucked this morning. The reasons were three-fold.

1. People don’t know how to drive in rain. If any moisture AT ALL is falling from the sky, people slam on the breaks and fear for their lives. This angers me and causes me to be 35 minutes late to work.
2. Rain gives me migraines and makes me sleepy. So I was simultaneously trying to stay awake and not get nauseous.
3. I asked permission from Stephen to post a certain blog idea. He said no. And while I may not understand why it’s embarrassing, I will be all Ephesians 5 and submit.

So now I come to you with a headache and nothing to say. And I’m kind of grumpy. But I have a solution. I have told you time and time again that there is never a dull moment in Hurst Castle. My husband is highly entertaining. And in an effort to prove that to you, I’m opening the comments section up for questions. Ask Stephen anything.

Were you wearing a bandana to match Molly?


How did you get as strong as you are? And does kryptonite hurt you?


Do you know how handsome you look in a suit? Even when you’re holding two mango shooters?


Do you have any idea how lucky you are? 🙂

Wedding 4

What’s your favorite beer?
Does it feel weird to be married to a girl with gray hair?
Do you even read Roots & Rings?
Would you rather have really short legs or really long arms?

Your turn. It’s Ask the Hubby Day! Many other bloggers have done this and it’s always fun to hear from someone else in their life. I will make sure Stephen answers all of your questions, no matter how random and off-the-wall they are.

Ready? Go!

September 22, 2009 at 9:50 am 16 comments

Bless My Heart

I hope you enjoyed your little break from me yesterday. It was nerve-racking to post on someone else’s blog but we came out of it alive. I think there may have been a little confusion. Apparently links on my blog appear to be the same color text as the normal text. So many of you went to my Blogroll to find out how to get to Lauren’s blog. My mom and Stephen both asked me how to get there. So incase you didn’t see the link yesterday, CLICK HERE to read my guest post on Lauren’s blog. For those of you who were able to make it over there, thanks! You sure know how to make a girl feel special! 

Enough about me, let’s move on to the point of today’s post.

Here in Texas, we have our own language. I’m not talking about Texican, I’m just talking about plain ‘ol Texan. Words like yall, fixin’, and dadgumit. To us, this sort of talk is normal. We may say thinks like “he didn’t even have a pot to piss in” and we all know what this means.

I learned a new saying a couple months ago. I was in a little city in south Texas called Alice. It’s a stone’s throw from the border and it’s common to go to the local Wally Martinez (that’s Walmart in other parts of the country) and see men in Wranglers and boots. I was there visiting my family back in May when the sky opened up and it started pouring. My Papa let out a big sigh and said, “It sure is nice to get this rain. The other day we had a real turd floater.” My jaw dropped and my Papa got a little chuckle out of his city-girl granddaughter who hasn’t ever heard of the term “turd floater.” I’ve learned my lesson. It’s now a part of my vocabulary and I’ve committed my life to teaching the masses this great phrase. I’m sure you can use your context clues and figure it out. A turd floater is a really heavy rain… so heavy that all the cow and horse poop floats. Consider yourself educated.

We have this other saying here in Texas. “Bless his heart.” It is an unspoken agreement that all Texans have come to that you can say anything about anyone as long as you preface it with “bless his heart.” For example: You see a woman wearing a shirt that’s a bit too tight and a skirt that’s a tad too short. The old ladies may say, “Now bless her heart, but she sure is dressed like a tramp.” And it’s okay. Or you go to dinner at some friends house and the food is burnt. You may say, “Oh bless her heart, but she can’t cook for the life of her.” And, once again, it’s okay.

With that said… my dear husband, bless his heart, tells some bad jokes.

I love him more than life itself, but sometimes he’ll say something and he’ll immediately have to explain himself. I always tell him that it’s not a funny joke if he has to explain it. But he doesn’t believe me because while I’m standing there staring, he’s laughing his heart out.

Last week I had to go to Hobby Lobby on the way home from work so I dragged him with me. We came in and headed over to the section that I thought was the baking section. We ended up in the wedding section. I must’ve remember seeing cakes there or something. Once I go there I said, “Oops. Wrong spot. Let’s go the other way.” Stephen turns to me with a smile and asks, “Why are we in this aisle? Are you trying to reminisce about a time when you were really important?” He laughed and laughed. I didn’t think it was funny.

Most days, Stephen and I carpool to work. I usually call him as I’m pulling onto his street and he comes out to meet me. Yesterday I went into his office so that he could finish up some work and I could use the restroom. I was sitting at his coworker’s desk waiting. When he was finally done, he stood up to gather his stuff. He had a huge grin on his face. “What?” He grinned bigger, “Oh nothing.” I wasn’t convinced. “What are you smiling about??” He chuckled a bit, “Nothing really. It’s just a really bad joke.”

As much as I hate being left out of a joke, I’m certain that this was probably a good joke to be left out of. I’m quite thankful of his developing ability to hold his tongue when he has a dull joke to tell. I only wish he’d learn to hold his tongue when his jokes are only funny to him. Or at least maybe he could learn to bless my heart before he tells jokes about me!

August 25, 2009 at 9:10 am 18 comments

Marital Bliss

No long story today… Just a quick explanation of why marriage is unlike anything you will ever experience.

This morning on the way to work, Stephen cleared his throat. It was one of those nasty, man throat things… where he may or may not have hacked up a hairball. In this instance, it was the former. And it was not a hairball. It was a loogie. The kind that only males know how to produce. (I think they learn this in 4th grade when the girls are in the nurse’s office learning about periods.)

C- I don’t know why you do that when you’re driving. We are on the freeway. Now you have to hold it in your mouth. Gross.

S- (almost incomprehensibly) I don’t get to choose when it happens…

Of course I think this is gross. But I’m also secretly jealous. Why don’t I know how to do that? Last week my head was so full of mucus I thought my eyes were going to pop out. I would have given my right arm to be able to get some of that out. But noooo. I’m a lady. Ladies don’t get loogies. Ugh. So anyways, we finally exit the freeway and get to a stop sign.

Stephen opens the door, spits his treasured loogie, and turns to me, apologetically, with a smile:

S- You’re pretty.

June 5, 2009 at 9:10 am 7 comments

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