Bridezillas

I am a violinist. I am not a professional, but I'm decent enough to play for weddings and such. I'm in an all volunteer orchestra and recently joined an all string ensemble as well.

As of today I am giving up playing for weddings, unless I play for someone I know or the close friend of someone I know, or a family member, a friend, the daughter of a friend...hopefully you get the idea. I will no longer agree to play for the wedding of someone I do not know at all.

Here are the last two experiences I had when I was asked to play for a wedding:

Number 1: Last spring I received a phone call out of the blue from a bride-to-be who introduced herself and told me she had talked to me a few weeks ago about playing for her wedding which was to take place on such-and-such date. I had ABSOLUTELY NO MEMORY of talking to this person. But....as I am prone to do...I believed HER instead of myself. I checked my calendar. I had not written down the date. I would have written down the date without a doubt. I still believed HER. The date was free, so anyway I said yeah okay, I guess. But I will tell you. I WAS SCARED. I truly felt frightened that I was losing my mind, that I was showing signs of Alzheimer's, etc. I'm not being funny when I say that I was truly concerned about myself.

It just so happened that a friend who often plays weddings with me (we are in the aforementioned orchestra and ensemble together) and I were on our way to a rehearsal when I mentioned to her this phone call. She looked at me in surprise, and shock I'm sure, and said "It was me." I replied, "WHAT???" She repeated, "I talked to her. It was me she called." To make a long story short, things went downhill from there. She kept calling one of us or the other and getting us mixed up. She told my friend that since she had talked to me first (which she hadn't) she wanted me to play. This was after more time went by and I had already stepped aside telling my friend "You can have her." When the phone call came that she wanted me and not my friend, my schedule changed and I had something else on the calendar which could not (not that I would have anyway) be changed.

As it turned out, neither one of us played for her. She was rude, disorganized, and hung up on my friend. Done, except that I wasted a lot of time, experienced a lot of frustration and stress for no fault of my own (and so did my friend). At least I'm not experiencing serious memory loss.

Number 2: I had another bride call me in the summer to schedule me to play for her September wedding. She wanted both my friend and me. I hadn't heard anything from her for a very long time, but she finally did call just a couple of weeks prior to her wedding (this was late last week) and said we should get together to pick the music and whatnot. I said fine, called my friend, and we scheduled for this Sunday afternoon past. A day or two after that her bridesmaid called me to get directions to my house which I gave. The bride ended up calling me the day of our meeting and told me she was sick and couldn't make it. Ok. Fine. We rescheduled for this evening at 6 p.m. I had a funny feeling about this whole thing for some reason.

To back up, my friend and I found out just a couple of hours earlier that this bride has no vocalist, no piano, no organist...no one else...just two violins. Typically we play as people are being seated, perhaps a song if the mothers are lighting a candle, etc. We usually have the support of an accompanist. Our church is large and two violins alone is not a big sound. Oh, the bride earlier in this whole process had mentioned that she was doing "a wedding on a budget" yet it was for 200 people. What that means can be translated into "I don't want to pay you much, if anything." We don't care all that much about money, although we have both upped what we charge. We have to plan, we have to get together with the bride, we have to get together with each other and rehearse, and we have to show up and do it. In general it isn't unreasonable to charge $50 to $100 each. When I got married almost 28 years ago, I paid my organist $50 and that was then.

What happened next was that 6 p.m. came and went. At about 6:10 p.m. the phone rang as my friend and I sat and waited. It was the groom, with whom I had never spoken before, saying they were on their way (I didn't know he was coming too but that's ok) and they needed directions. I started giving directions as if they were in or near my town, but then realized I should know from what direction they were coming. They said they were coming from a town way south of my town and that they had just gotten on the interstate. They were at least a half hour away, even in good traffic, but this was still rush hour.

Still, my friend and I said we would wait. I did have someone else coming over at 7 or so for something else, which is true, although I could have dealt with it. We hung up and my friend and I waited about another five minutes. The phone range again and it was the bride. She said she was sorry for the hassle, but they had allowed themselves plenty of time (yeah right) but they weren't going to make it. I said ok, well I don't know what you are going to do, and she said she had messed it all up. As far as I know, this bride has no music for her wedding which is supposed to take place a week from this Saturday, but that's her problem.

I'm done. No more weddings. I think this is scary. There are people like this out there in the world. What will happen to these marriages? What will life be like in their home? What will their children be like? Good grief, I could end up teaching one of them.

The good thing is I got to spend some quality time with my friend. She stayed for dinner and we had a nice glass (or two) of Pinot Noir.

The second good thing is that I have now made dinner and theater plans with some friends for that Saturday and I am totally unavailable, so don't call me.

Saturday Morning Excursion

Although it would have been easy for me to lounge in bed a bit longer this morning (the first Saturday following the beginning of school) I didn't. Instead I invited my husband to go with me to the Zionsville Farmers Market (thanks to my friend Janet who wrote about this in one of her blog entries). Ed isn't one to stroll and just enjoy the moment sometimes, but it was good for us to do something together and to get out of the house.

We did a walk through of the market first and went around a couple of more times to buy what we thought was the most and best for the money. We picked up a cantaloupe (which is called in Indiana a muskmelon and is somewhat different looking and better tasting than a plain cantaloupe), tomatoes, green peppers, hot peppers, peaches, chili sauce, sausage (his pick), rosemary/olive oil bread, and lastly (with all the cash we had left) this beautiful bouquet of flowers.

He seemed to enjoy it, although I did have to encourage him to relax and stroll, and not become his "efficiency expert" self. We should have brought the dogs. There were dogs everywhere...next time.

I think we have to learn to do these sorts of things together more frequently and rediscover ourselves. When you are raising children you are going every which way and are so busy all the time. It is hard to learn to spend one-on-one time together again. We are entering a new phase.

Of course on the way home, he fell into one of his favorite things to do...explore...go a different way...get lost sort of (but not admit it). He's never really had a hobby other than that he reads a lot....maybe something to do with cartography, not that there are any places in the world left unexplored. I know...he could be the person who creates better directions for online services, since they never give you the most efficient route.

I Stand Corrected

After posting the previous and "gifting" it to my parents, my mother told me I had just a couple of things mixed up. The first and not all that important is that my father had just been discharged from the Navy, but he was in uniform. Secondly, and more important, my mother did not turn 18 on her wedding day, she turned 17.

My mother was an only child, living in a small town in southern Indiana, getting married on her 17th birthday. Oh, she was also already expecting her first child. If it was scandalous at the time, which maybe it was, does it really matter after 62 years? I don't think it was a shotgun wedding. My grandfather might not have been very happy about it but it wasn't that. They wanted to be married. Look at what happened...four children, nine grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. The most important thing is a marriage that has lasted for 62 years.

They didn't get married in a church. It was a civil service. On their 50th we four children put together the celebration they never had...the whole shebang...a big reception, the cake, a slide show video with music, a limo, dinner and a hotel, and lots of family and friends.

I just figured out I would have to live to be 91 to be married for 62 years....not so sure about that.

Ode to Mommy and Daddy

Happy 79th birthday to my mother (tomorrow, August 16). It also happens to be my parents' wedding anniversary (the 62nd). My mother was just turning 17 when my parents married. That is amazing to me. She was born in 1930 and my father in 1927.

Those were the years of The Great Depression. I'm not sure they had a sense of the economic situation in the country at the time because they were born into it. I think that has a lot to do with what they instilled in me. I think that is why it was natural in our family not to focus on things, but instead using the imagination, and spending lots of time reading.

Neither one of them is well educated in the conventional sense. They did not go to college. My father did not complete high school, although a few years ago the Salem Indiana School Board issued him an honorary degree because of his service to the country.

He joined the Navy during WWII. He didn't see action but was on a ship, and I've heard some amazing stories about what goes on with sailors on those ships, e.g. the ceremony that takes place when a sailor crosses the equator for the first time.

Not being educated didn't mean a whole lot in their lives. My father was skilled and worked for a radio/television place, then in civil service at Ft. Harrison, and then part time again in an appliance store up until a few years ago. He used his hands. And he is smart. He should have been an engineer. He's one of those naturally handy guys who could fix anything.

My mother was born in Salem, Indiana. My father was born nearby in a town you usually can't find on an Indiana map, Fredericksburg. Both were born at home. My father first spotted my mother at the Salem roller skating rink. He was a sailor on leave and was too shy to ask her to skate, so a friend asked her for him. He was a sailor in uniform. Need I say more? My mother wasn't too shy to say yes.

So they were married on my mother's 17th birthday. My sister was born less than a year later, followed by my older brother, me, and my younger brother...girl, boy, girl, boy...that's us.

My mother stayed at home, my father worked....sometimes two jobs. She did kid duty. Dad came home, ate dinner, and rested. He had the boys involved in community sports. There weren't community sports for girls back then, so we girls hung out with mom. Even if they weren't formally educated, they saw that we were. They let the school and teachers do their job. There weren't helicopter parents in those days. If we caused problems in school, we'd answer for it. I don't think any of us ever had to answer because we behaved. It's just what you did. My mother was friends with other mothers, and they were in the PTA. We came home to eat lunch and went back to school in the afternoon. We attended the neighborhood school and walked there and back home.

I mentioned my father should have been an engineer. Well my mother should have been a nurse. Dad has had some pretty major health problems for around 27 years off and on. We call him the Everready Bunny. We thank God he's gotten through it all so far and has been around to see all of his grandchildren born, and many of them all the way through high school and into college. My mother continues to take care of all of his needs. He's spoiled, and he knows it I think.

So today (actually it is tomorrow but I'll be celebrating with the family, not blogging) I honor them both for all they have done for me, for my brothers and sister, and for our children. I love them both more than I can express. Happy 79th birthday mom, and happy 62nd anniversary mom and dad!

Another Parental Rite of Passage

I just returned from a two-day orientation session for Mary at DePaul University in Chicago. Ed, Mary and I spent the first day together, and then they separated us for the second day, although I know many of the same topics were covered, albeit from two very different perspectives.

This is the fourth time we've been through a college orientation (and another milestone...it will be the last). While not all of them were at the same school, they do have a lot in common. The same things are covered...housing, transportation, scheduling, time management, getting banking set up, financial aid, and on and on and on. The real juxtaposition occurs when we parents sit in on sessions run by current student panels and staff, and are shown things through what I know (because I've been through this before) but other parents don't know (because they are first timers) are rose-colored glasses.

I wanted to stand up and say "Get real." a number of times when parents asked questions about co-ed dorms (which they pretty much all are now and have been for some time), having guests of the opposite sex in rooms (which has pretty much been allowed for some time), and the question which always comes up about alcohol use. I just want to say, "You've laid the foundation. If they want to make a poor choice, they are going to make a poor choice."

My philosophy is and has always been to build a strong relationship of trust with your children. If you do (or maybe I'm just lucky) they will come to you...they will come and tell you they screwed up, and it is usually after the fact because they are in some sort of trouble, or they just feel guilty about it, or they found themselves in a situation which they thought they wanted to explore and suddenly it frightened them. When they come to you, it is a time to ask them if they learned something. It is not a time to yell at them or impose an overly punitive consequence. Usually the experience is lesson enough.

That doesn't mean you have to smile and say "It's OK honey." You CAN express your disappointment and displeasure. It's such a balance. In one session the presenter asked parents to raise their hand if they had ever made a poor choice. I don't think there was one person who did not raise his or her hand.

I'm by nature an observer. I've always been on the quiet side in some situations. I like to stand back and just watch. I've learned from observing. I've seen parents do things and I've watched the results, and I've learned what not to do. I've told my girls from the outset that I am not their friend. Yes, they've said to me from time to time...so and so's mother and she are best friends. From my observations, nine times out of ten that girl is or will be in some sort of major trouble. I of course also tell them I'm not so and so's mother, I'm YOUR mother. I've told them there will come a time when we will be friends, and that is happening now, but not until they are through high school and possibly college (or close to it).

I am not overly punitive and strict. I probably should have been a little more so sometimes, but when I've watched the parents of some of my daughters' friends adopt a "no tolerance" stance on some issues, those are the very girls who live a lie when it comes to their relationship with their parents. They rebel. You have to give them some freedom. You trust them until they give you reason not to.

The dynamics of every family is different. Girls are different than boys, parents do things differently. No one is absolutely right and no one is absolutely wrong. Maybe my philosophy is partly born of who my children innately are, how Ed and I have learned to balance it all, not only in dealing with things about which we have disagreed (which is sometimes REALLY hard to work out or maybe you don't even really completely work it out), but also in dealing with the distinct personalities of our daughters, and the interrelationships that exist in a family of six.

There are moments when your children come to you to own up to something, or to express how stupid what someone else their age did was, and you look at each other with a look that says "We did something right." It is very affirming. One of those moments was at orientation when we gathered back with Mary and she mentioned how a couple of the guys in her group were so immature. "Mom, one of them actually asked the Dean of Students...the DEAN OF STUDENTS, 'So what happens if we get caught smoking weed?' They are so immature!" Unless Ed and I are THE most naive parents there are, I have to say we have THE most amazing daughters.

Mam-maw and Pap-paw

My parents... there they are.. they are so happy to be here and we are so happy to have them. They are wonderful people. And they are hysterical.

My dad doesn't get around so well and absolutely does need some help, but he is spoiled rotten. I don't know what he would do without my mother. I can't even tell you some of the things she does for him. You don't want to know. I can't imagine ever doing some of them for Ed. My mother is so used to doing everything for him that it has just become her culture. To some extent it has always been their culture, their norm.

The woman puts his food on his plate! He can't stand up and act like he is going somewhere without her immediately responding "What are you doing? Where are you going?" He sometimes acts half annoyed by it, but you can tell he is just pretending and that he actually enjoys every second of it. I think once in awhile she actually ought to ignore the fact that he is moving and see what he says. He'd probably be moving along with his cane or walker but looking behind him wondering why she wasn't saying anything. She follows him into the bathroom. You don't want to know...I don't want to know.

This morning he got off the couch to go sit outside on the screened porch and she immediately stood up behind him and asked the inevitable questions as mentioned above. Then she went to the sliding door before him and started asking him which chair he wanted to sit in. That one? This one? He pointed to "that one" and she proceeded to pull it out for him.

Oh, and this conversation just now took place while I was blogging:

Mom (standing next to him as he sat on the couch): I think I'll go down to the beach for a bit and look for some shells.

Dad: Ok.

Mom: Is that ok with you? It had better be...I did get your ice cream for you.

Dad: Yeah....uh....no, I don't think I want you to do that (joking).

Mom: Well you'd better. I'm going anyway.

So you see, half of this way of relating comes from her. Maybe more. I honestly don't hear him make demands upon her. She has just done everything for him for so long, it's her norm. It is way outside of my norm. You will rarely if ever find me putting food on a plate for Ed (although I did puncture and drain the blisters on the bottom of his foot this morning), and you will never find him asking me to do so. It would annoy the hell out of him. So while it is amusing, it also worries me. I can't imagine one of them functioning without the other.

I remember a time he used to make fun of her for being so addicted to soaps. Now he himself is an addictee. I know this because when they travel with us I get a sneaky peak into the lives they live at home on a day-to-day basis. When they aren't looking for their soaps, they are looking to see what "judge" shows are on TV. I heard dad whine this morning because he couldn't find Judge Matheson (whoever that is...so I don't know if I'm spelling it correctly).

Although Mom and Dad sit on the couch and watch soaps and judge shows, we do manage to make them get up and go. Ed took Dad this morning to rent a wheel chair so we could get him to some places which are difficult for him to reach...the beach, the pool, and whatever else we find on the island that might be a little on the inaccessible side for him.

They are so fun. Dad is ornery and likes to spend a lot of time teasing the girls, teasing Jon, and making up lies about me (or at least exaggerating the truth) when I was a child. And each and every night we are together, Mom and Dad (but especially Dad) want us all to line up and give them a hug and kiss goodnight. Dad hugs me, kisses me, tells me how much he loves me, and says thank you for the hundredth time for including them in our adventures.

As far as I am concerned they have been the best parents ever and they deserve to spend their time doing whatever they want.

SKUNKED!

After not having slept well at all on Saturday night, I decided I would try my best on Sunday. I soaked in a nice bath for around an hour, reading my book, toweled off, put on my p.j.'s and climbed in. I ignored taking the dogs out, I ignored our guests, I just climbed in and continued reading. I was hooked on the book so did read for awhile until it became the normal bedtime, somewhere between 10 and 11 p.m.

Suddenly my husband bursts into the room with the dogs in tow (we have two...a mini-Schnauzer and a Goldendoodle) and asks me to smell Roxie (our Goldendoodle). Well, first of all he knows my smeller doesn't work well because he always smells odors I don't smell, so I sort of rely on him to decide if something in the pantry or refrigerator has gone bad. Initially I didn't smell a thing (of course), and then it hit me in the face. Roxie had been skunked.

My husband likes to let Roxie run off of her leash. We live on about an acre in a small town. We are in a neighborhood but there is a fair amount of wildlife around us. A railroad track runs along the back of our property and there is nothing but a field on the other side. We have quite a number of species of birds, I've seen deer, ground hogs, bunnies of course, and where those animals live, of course there will be raccoons, fox, possum, and (naturally) skunks around even if we don't see them.

So when he took them out one last time before bed, Roxie got skunked somewhere in the back of the yard. To be fair to him, Roxie doesn't run off when you let her run; at least not far. She has run a couple of houses away but is a bit of a wimp and doesn't stray far. She'll go further if the mini-Schnauzer (Captain) is also left off his leash to run (typically we don't do this). I will let Roxie and Captain (sometimes) both off their leashes and they chase each other around the yard, around the house, and Roxie is pretty good about staying around. If I can get her back on her leash, Captain will follow where she is. And with practice and training, they will get even better at not running off. Our neighborhood covenants don't allow us to have fences, so if we wanted to rein them in we'd have to get an invisible fence.

However, I NEVER let Roxie run off her leash in the dark. First, as mentioned she is a bit wimpy and shies easily. I wouldn't..ahem...want her to get into any trouble or see something (which may only come out at night...ahem) and take off after it. Second, why of all times would my husband assume I needed to be the one to determine whether Roxie smelled of something since he knows my smeller doesn't work well? That's what he said when he came upstairs to our bedroom..."Smell Roxie...does she smell?" Third, if he SUSPECTED she smelled of anything, why in the world would he bring her in, trailing skunk spray everywhere in the house?!?

So OF COURSE, just like he used to not want to clean up children who were throwing up, I basically sighed loudly, tossed my book aside, got up and threw on some old clothes and headed downstairs with Roxie. She was upset, maybe smelling herself, and by that time had not only gone in her crate and laid down on her cushion in there, but also came back out of her crate onto her doggie bed, so the smell was on those things as well. Through all of this of course, he's overreacting (what he usually does when in reality he is mad at himself, not me), and I'm overreacting to his overreacting.

I took Roxie downstairs, put her out on the porch and went to the computer to look up what to do about skunk spray, it never having happened to me before. Our guests were still up, probably from all the chaos going on upstairs. So much for their sleep. My sister-in-law first said tomato juice. I've heard that but wanted to be sure. (I did eventually find out tomato juice is not the answer). We googled it and my computer was being slow, so she actually called a friend in Taos where she is from to get her recipe.

What it took was a quart of hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup of baking soda, and a teaspoon of dish soap (the kind that says it removes grease). We had no hydrogen peroxide that I could find, and if we had any it wouldn't have been a quart, so I sent my daughter off to the store. In the meantime Roxie is upset on the porch, barking to get in, and probably still keeping our house guests awake. I had my daughter get 2 quarts of hydrogen peroxide.

After mixing up a batch of this recipe, I started scrubbing Roxie down head to toes. They say it can bleach the dog's fur, but Roxie is blond anyway and who cares. The poor thing was shivering since the night air was cool. I applied two batches to her, followed by a regular shampooing and rinsing, toweled her off, and my daughter (who was by that time helping me) took Roxie to sleep in her room. I then had to go upstairs and grab all her bedding and get it in the wash. Fortunately the daughter who had gone to the store for me also picked up another solution which is also supposed to remove skunk odor, so as the directions indicated I added a capful of that to my laundry detergent to wash Roxie's bedding.

You know how "they" say to never let the sun set on your anger? I don't think that's realistic and if you try to live by it, there is too much pressure on you to pretend you aren't angry when you really are. So if you can picture our king sized bed, my husband and I slept far apart and back-to-back. Sometimes it is better NOT to figure it out right then. Sometimes it IS better to just stay quiet and wait until morning. I don't know what time it was when I got to bed, and I don't want to know, but I did get what I wanted...I did sleep well once I got there.

Oh, and we slept with both the air conditioning running and the windows open. I've decided the only way to know for sure the smell isn't in the bedroom or elsewhere in the house is to remove myself and come back in later. Especially since.....my smeller doesn't work! By the way, we were both fine and laughing this morning, and my husband was being his sheepish self, the way he is when he knows he messed up! If he blogged, I'm sure his version would be very different from mine, but this is MY blog. Not only does he not do puke and not do skunk, he also doesn't read or write blogs, so I can say whatever I want..heh heh heh.

An-ti-ci-PA-A-tion, It's Keepn' Me Wa-a-tin'

The lyrics of that song have more to do with the anticipation of being with a lover than going on vacation, but I am suddenly feeling that great feeling of looking forward to something, our family vacation to Sanibel/Captiva Island, Florida. We took a trip to the Tampa/Clearwater area last year and it was great, but Sanibel is one of my favorite places.

One of my favorite books, Gift from the Sea, published in 1955 (my birth year), was written by Anne Morrow Lindbergh on Captiva Island. I discovered it around ten years ago and wish I had found it much sooner.

Gift can stand alone, but if you are interested in its background, I recommend Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Her Life by Susan Hertog, published in 1999. There may well be other books about her life out there, but I sense most of the material is focused on Charles Lindbergh. I loved reading about the way Anne was raised. Her mother was consistent at reading aloud to her and three siblings. (I have three siblings and my mother also read aloud to us regularly; I likewise have four children and reading aloud was extremely important in our home. Was I not meant to learn about Anne Lindbergh?) Once they outgrew being read to, the habit of reading to themselves and also writing on a regular basis came naturally. Anne's father was a lawyer (my husband is a lawyer). They obviously grew up in a household which placed value on education and held high standards of achievement. Anne's mother was active in promoting women's education. When I discovered Gift and also read her biography, I related so much to Anne, her life, and also her struggles. Any woman friend I know who has read the book relates to it, no matter what stage of life.

The flap of the biography states that Anne was "shy and sensitive, yet rebellious and ambitious." She had her own ambition, yet struggled with being caught up in her role as wife and mother, and what was expected of her. I didn't get the feeling she resented those responsibilities, but they are labor intensive, and we all know how easy it is to set ourselves aside. Of course Charles was in the limelight and I'm sure this made it even more difficult for her. It seems not many people know that she was a writer and also an aviator. Most only know of Charles' aviation record and of course the horrible events surrounding the kidnapping and murder of their infant son.

Gift from the Sea is poetic, simple yet deep, wise; it crosses time and space.

So I think I'll pull it out to take with me, knowing that when I search for shells on the beach, Anne Morrow Lindbergh might have walked the same path. I might even find time to reread her biography.

The area is governed well. It isn't Panama City. There are building restrictions on height, so you won't find high rises. There are restrictions on shelling. No live shells may be taken, yet there are piles of shells on the beach at low tide. Being a barrier island, the area is known for shells and you'll see people in a stance (bent over looking at the ground) called the Sanibel stoop. When in the water you can find many live starfish, sanddollars, and other shells to enjoy even if you can't (and shouldn't) take them. The area is also populated by sea turtles whose nests are marked and protected by law. The fauna and foliage are interesting and beautiful. The J.N. "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Reserve is located there as well and is part of one of the largest undeveloped mangrove ecosystems in the country.

There will be eight of us. Regretfully our oldest daughter, Caitlin, is out of the country and can't join us this year; but there will be other years. My parents, who can no longer travel easily on their own, will join us (a road trip with two vehicles). We plan on relaxing, enjoying the quiet and beauty, eating good seafood, reading, writing (I intend to) and playing some Skip Bo, Scrabble, and Phase Ten....and I mustn't forget the Bloody Mary's and Margaritas.

Ahhhh....an-ti-ci-PA-A-tion......

Husbands and Common Sense

Those two things don't always go hand in hand. For the most part, I just let my spousal unit believe he is in charge, wise, and oozing with common sense. I've learned that it really accomplishes little to do other than let him go on applying his lawyerly logic to human relationships. I have occasionally tried to point out lawyerly logic doesn't work when it comes to human relationships (nor does any form of logic for that matter). Any success I achieve at convincing him I'm right and he is wrong rarely happens in the moment, but only after he has had time to process.

When it comes to his reaction to any potentially heated issue, I have learned two things. First, he will always react opposite to my expectations. Second, I have learned to "introduce" the topic to him, let him react to it in whatever way is his path of least resistance, and then let it smoulder for a couple of days before moving him along to my way of thinking (which he knows is inevitable anyway).

A perfect example is the issue of his sister staying at our home and caring for our two dogs while we are on vacation. I had this arranged with the daughter of a friend who loves animals and house sits. Those plans changed when his sister called to say that she and her son would be flying in from out of state for the purpose of having our nephew's ACL surgically repaired. Could they stay at our home for recuperation? Absolutely, and even better my sister-in-law will be here while we are on vacation so she and her son will have the place to themselves. She'd be more than willing to take care of our pets, flowers, etc.

Coincidentally, I've been allowing our two dogs to sleep outside of their crates since they are housebroken. One of the dogs has been doing fine. In fact, Roxie willingly goes into her crate to sleep, even though I have provided her with a bed outside of the crate. It's her den and she clearly prefers it. The other dog does not particularly like his crate. He has relished in having a soft doggie bed (next to me on the floor) to curl upon at bedtime. However, he also has been getting me up either in the middle of the night to go out, or rather early in the morning (earlier than I want to get up as a teacher on summer break). I've heard my husband say on a couple of occasions that "You are going to have to get him trained not to do this while my sister is here." He has also mentioned moving their crates out of our bedroom and into our basement (as far away from our bedroom as is possible) while my sister-in-law is here (and using our bedroom) so as not to inconvenience her.

Well, I have let it go for a few days, and then when walking the dogs together at the park yesterday, finally brought it up. "....uh, about this issue of Captain getting up....." I reminded him that Captain was being a good boy by letting me KNOW he NEEDS to go out; better than the alternative. Then I reminded him that we are talking about dogs, not children (who by the way I couldn't suddenly potty train in anticipation of going on vacation either), and that his sister did agree willingly to take care of our pets (I doubt she realizes what she is getting into).

Finally, I let him know that I would be more than willing to go ahead and have our dogs boarded at an excellent kennel where they would have a suite, lots of room to run, people playing with them, their area cleaned daily, and so forth....at a price. That last bit I think made all the difference. His response was to be very agreeable and say "Oh I know...she agreed to take care of them and so will have to deal with them as they are." I was hoping he would actually tell me to have them boarded, where I know they would get attention and be loved, not just tolerated. I'm not sure my "logic" worked this time.