Jun 192009
 

It’s official. FireDad did not win Redbook’s Hottest Husband contest. I logged onto Redbook this morning to find that the winner, Rob Myers, has been announced. (Congrats to Rob and family! FireDad is not surprised as the winner is a Navy pilot. That gets a thumbs up from the FireFamily!) I had figured, as we hadn’t heard a single word from the magazine in either direction, that no news wasn’t good news but I had held a candle of hope just in case.

I informed FireDad this morning as we enjoyed a quiet, no-kids morning (as they have been kidnapped by my mother-in-law). He smiled and said it was okay. I asked him if he was upset. He said, unsurprisingly, that it was fine. I said, “That’s a shame, because I was going to make it up to you later.” He would like Redbook, our readers and the world to know that he is now very saddened by his loss. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

We had a good time with it. He had a good time with it. He took it all in stride, has endured months of, “So, did you win,” questions and has done it all with his beautiful smile. These, of course, are just a few of the reasons that I love him. I love that he can take something as cheesy as a “hot husbands contest” and barely bat an eyelash. I love that he agreed to pose for the newspaper. I love that he loves me despite all of my crazy antics. I love his sense of humor. I love how he is with our boys, how he is with the Munchkin and how he loves with his whole heart. I love everything there is to love about him, even when he leaves his socks on the bathroom floor. (Mainly because he puts up with me leaving my towel on… every… floor.) That’s love, folks.

He may not have won the popular vote on Redbook… but he’ll always be my hottest husband. (I mean, right?!)

Blue Us, This Morning

Blue Kisses

How FireDad Feels

And that’s how he feels about that comment.

Thanks to EVERYONE who took the time to vote. Thanks to everyone who tweeted, blogged, emailed, talked on the phone and generally spammed their real life friends with the URL to vote for my (hottest) husband. Thank you to all who have laughed with us and poked fun at my husband as he honestly had a good time. Thanks to WHIZ-TV for airing a piece about the contest and the Daily Jeffersonian for photographing my (hottest) husband for an article that ran on the front page of our local newspaper. And, lastly, thank you to my mother-in-law and father-in-law for not only combining genes but raising one wonderful, strong, funny, intelligent, mannerly and loving man.

I am the luckiest.

Mar 092009
 

I’ve been asked this question a few times over the past week and a half: what’s it like being married to one of Redbook’s Top 25 Hottest Husbands?

Well, same as it always was.

He’s always been easy on the eyes. He turns heads. Our friend’s six year old daughter wants to marry him. (In fact, on Father’s Day, she gave FireDad the mug that she was supposed to make for her own Dad in Sunday School. Thankfully they’re friends… still.) Teenage girls working in fast food restaurants stumble over their words and blush when he gives his order. Teachers and moms alike at the local elementary schools inquire about his identity after assemblies on fire safety. Older ladies just love him to pieces. My friends routinely tell me that he is hot or attractive or sexy or handsome or cute or etcetera and so on.

It’s not like I don’t know he’s attractive. Have you seen his smile? It still makes me melt. His green eyes make me feel all mushy inside. Does all of the attention he receives get to me? Rarely. The teenage girls make me giggle because I remember having “goo-goo eyes” (a term BigBrother is using right now) for handsome, older men when I was working in my first few jobs. The teachers and moms are usually informed that he is married with children by those who know him. The older ladies make me smile and think about how I’ll react when a handsome twenty-something holds the door for me at church someday.

Very rarely has any female stepped over a line since he put a ring on his finger and made my hair stand on end. Like that one time that we were at a restaurant-slash-bar with my parents. My Mom and I got up to use the restroom. When we returned to our table, two females had descended upon both my father (!) and my husband (!) and were “making small talk.” My Dad and Josh were amused as were my  Mom and I after my cat claws went back in. I didn’t have to say a word. I just gave the look. I know you know the look. Whether you’ve given or received it or just witnessed it happening, I know you know that look.

So, all of the attention (from the newspaper articles to the local news station running the story) to the comments from everyone in the community hasn’t really fazed me. Yes, my husband is attractive. I don’t mind if you say so. I know where he sleeps at night. For two nights in a row, it’s in our bed. Then every third night he sleeps in a room with five other snoring men. I’m not all that worried. He’s still the same happy, goofy, loving, attentive, patient, loyal, hard-working, fun-loving husband and dad he’s always been. See picture to the left as an example from yesterday. (Best way to wear the kids out early for change-of-bedtime thanks to Daylight Saving Time? Visit the fire department after supper. Win.)

What has been interesting is the fact that my husband is suddenly getting all of the attention. I mean, hello? I’m the Internet Superstar here! I’m getting email for him, about him and offering him things. Any time we go out, people aren’t asking what I’m up to right now or what new projects I’m tackling. No. It’s all about Mr. Redbook! He is handling his fifteen minutes of fame rather well, complete with his signature perfect-toothed smile. I’m standing right by him, smiling my not-so-perfect-toothed smile as well. But it’s different, this not being in the spotlight.

I say this all in jest, of course. (Or, somewhat.) He isn’t a spotlight type person. That’d be me. Obviously. And soon enough, we’ll be gearing up for my chorale’s Spring Show and I’ll be thrust under the lights once again (with quite the sizable part this year). And, so, I suppose I could let him enjoy his little bit of fame right now. (I’m also pretty sure I owe him a steak. Or a Primanti’s sammich this weekend in Pittsburgh. Something, right?)

I mean, especially with an eight night, seven day vacation to the Cayman Islands running on that perfect smile. (You have voted for Joshua H, haven’t you? What? You didn’t see our initial announcement? Read this post. Then head to this link and vote for Joshua H. We’re serious. If we win, we’re vlogging the trip!)