It might be the dull layer of chest cold that is hovering over me. It might be the oppressive humidity that sticks to your skin like watermelon juice. It might be the melodramatic, beautiful music I'm listening to on iTunes (Damien Rice). The mania of a little boy discovering the sprinkler for the first time this summer has mellowed into a quiet heaviness.
Nothing is ever really easy. You know the saying that goes something like, "True love shouldn't be hard"? I've never bought that. If your relationship is so easy that it never feels like an effort, you are incredibly special. I've never had an "easy" relationship because of this dang monologue that is always going on in my head. This absolutely singular "me" that remains nestled under the mommy-ness and the wife-ness sometimes tries to briefly forget the happy commitments that make my life secure.
My life is not in turmoil. My marriage is solid. We appreciate each other every day, I express my gratitude for his awesomeness every day. I revel in his adoration like settling into a warm, cozy featherbed on a winter's night.
Still, the universe is heavy tonight.
Let's lift the mood a bit. We started Anna on a course of gentian violet last night. That awful purple/blue dye that stains everything. The nystatin is a pain in the butt. I'm a dedicated, attentive mother, but I have a hard time remembering to give her a dose four times a day for two weeks. So instead of going through another course of the sticky goo, I decided I'd rather deal with the Purple Monster for four days. It's cute.
Anna is doing well in her new sleeping area in the dining room. She seems comfortable in there, and she's been sleeping soundly. She still wakes every couple of hours, but she's able to fall back asleep with some butt pats from Chris. Last night, she had a harder time getting to sleep after our night feeding, but I think that was an anomoly in our new system and was probably due to the humidity.
I was playing laptop games in the dining room tonight after I put Anna down. She wasn't sound asleep yet, and it seemed to comfort her that she could see me nearby as she drifted off. Ben came into the room a couple of times to see me. On the third time, he noticed Anna sleeping in the crib.
"Shhhh," he whispered to me with wide eyes.
With a smile, he started pushing his little chair over to the crib so he could climb up and peek in at her. It was a charming idea, but very detrimental to the continuity of Anna's sleep, so I stopped him, but I was delighted. "Shhh." He's never said that before.
When the weather cools off this weekend, Chris and I are going for a marathon stroller walk. He borrowed some discman speakers from a friend, and we're going to listen to an audiobook as we walk. We're hoping it will be good incentive to walk longer than we normally do, and to walk more often to hear the story. Our first trek will be three miles.
Showing posts with label Chester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chester. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Shush Little Girl
I guess I just kind of hoped that this would happen on its own. She'd just grow out of it, and we wouldn't have to do anything. She'd fall asleep on her own, and she'd sleep all night long. Because that's what Ben did, right? Funny thing. I don't remember. Didn't blog way back then.
Part of it may be that she was still in our room. We have a small two-bedroom house. Chris and I sleep in the first floor bedroom, and Ben sleeps upstairs, which is pretty much one big bedroom. For her early months, we were comfortable keeping her in our bedroom. Made it easier to nurse at night. The months ticked by. She's 8 months old now. And she's still in our room, almost always in our bed, nursing every 90 minutes.
And I'm tigered. Pronounced Tie-gurred. Family thing. Especially on the days when I'm working, of course, because not everyone there takes naps for two hours in the afternoon, though one young man is known to lay his head on his arms during the lunch hour and check out.
Chris had a tough time these past couple weeks, as we've tried a few different things. He'd stay up with her until midnight, rocking her, holding her while she slept, just so I could sleep undisturbed. But once he went to bed, I was on duty. If she woke up, I would go get her from the packnplay in the corner, and she'd latch on and fall asleep eventually. Sometimes, I could pull her off and put her back in her crib, othertimes, she'd wake up crying when I'd put her down, and we'd have to nurse again to get her to go back to sleep.
All night long. On good nights, I'd manage to sleep with her next to me. The past two nights, I've been sneaky. I'll nurse her to sleep on my side of the bed, then I'd pull her off, roll out of bed, put a pillow where I was, and go sleep on the living room couch. Of course I'd still have to go back in when she woke up again, but at least I could sleep on my own, in the position of my choice. She sleeps well on our bed, but we don't sleep well with her in it.
This morning, we pulled off the bandaid. Before work, Chris brought down her crib from Ben's room. The big behemoth now sits in the corner of our dining room where it will remain until she's a champion sleeper and won't disturb Ben.
Tonight, she will not be coming into bed with us. We're doing a modified Ferber method. When she wakes up, Chris will try to calm her down with pats and whispered sweet nothings. If that doesn't work, he will pick her up and sway. If she still doesn't put her fingers in her mouth to suck herself back to sleep, he'll rock her for a few minutes. Then down she goes again. Repeat. I don't imagine he'll sleep much tonight, and I wish I could feel sorry for him, but he hasn't had my sleep schedule for the Last Eight Freakin' Months. A week or so of sleep training won't kill him.
We'll let her cry for a while, but not for more than five or ten minutes. If her crying escalates, we'll go back in and comfort her. We're not focusing on her sleeping right now. We are focusing on eliminating all but one night feeding.
And it won't kill Anna. I hope. I'm typing this now in the dining room, where she fell asleep with me in the room, but not holding her. I have "Baby Mine" playing on repeat on iTunes. Shush, little love. Mommy and Daddy love you very much.
Part of it may be that she was still in our room. We have a small two-bedroom house. Chris and I sleep in the first floor bedroom, and Ben sleeps upstairs, which is pretty much one big bedroom. For her early months, we were comfortable keeping her in our bedroom. Made it easier to nurse at night. The months ticked by. She's 8 months old now. And she's still in our room, almost always in our bed, nursing every 90 minutes.
And I'm tigered. Pronounced Tie-gurred. Family thing. Especially on the days when I'm working, of course, because not everyone there takes naps for two hours in the afternoon, though one young man is known to lay his head on his arms during the lunch hour and check out.
Chris had a tough time these past couple weeks, as we've tried a few different things. He'd stay up with her until midnight, rocking her, holding her while she slept, just so I could sleep undisturbed. But once he went to bed, I was on duty. If she woke up, I would go get her from the packnplay in the corner, and she'd latch on and fall asleep eventually. Sometimes, I could pull her off and put her back in her crib, othertimes, she'd wake up crying when I'd put her down, and we'd have to nurse again to get her to go back to sleep.
All night long. On good nights, I'd manage to sleep with her next to me. The past two nights, I've been sneaky. I'll nurse her to sleep on my side of the bed, then I'd pull her off, roll out of bed, put a pillow where I was, and go sleep on the living room couch. Of course I'd still have to go back in when she woke up again, but at least I could sleep on my own, in the position of my choice. She sleeps well on our bed, but we don't sleep well with her in it.
This morning, we pulled off the bandaid. Before work, Chris brought down her crib from Ben's room. The big behemoth now sits in the corner of our dining room where it will remain until she's a champion sleeper and won't disturb Ben.
Tonight, she will not be coming into bed with us. We're doing a modified Ferber method. When she wakes up, Chris will try to calm her down with pats and whispered sweet nothings. If that doesn't work, he will pick her up and sway. If she still doesn't put her fingers in her mouth to suck herself back to sleep, he'll rock her for a few minutes. Then down she goes again. Repeat. I don't imagine he'll sleep much tonight, and I wish I could feel sorry for him, but he hasn't had my sleep schedule for the Last Eight Freakin' Months. A week or so of sleep training won't kill him.
We'll let her cry for a while, but not for more than five or ten minutes. If her crying escalates, we'll go back in and comfort her. We're not focusing on her sleeping right now. We are focusing on eliminating all but one night feeding.
And it won't kill Anna. I hope. I'm typing this now in the dining room, where she fell asleep with me in the room, but not holding her. I have "Baby Mine" playing on repeat on iTunes. Shush, little love. Mommy and Daddy love you very much.
Monday, June 23, 2008
I Scream
Curious note: Ben absolutely refuses to eat ice cream. Like many toddlers, he shakes his head no and turns his face away when we offer him something (unless he recognizes it as cheese). We have even, get this, tried to sneak it in his mouth when he's not looking. We figure once he gets a taste, he won't say no anymore. Nope. He wants nothing to do with it.
Hi. My name is Cheryl. I’m addicted to ice cream.
I don’t think I realized it until last Saturday when I talked myself out of cutting back. Earlier in the day, my husband and I had agreed that we will no longer have ice cream every evening. Instead, we will save the frosty treat for Wednesday afternoons when we walk to the ice cream parlor near work. We shook on it.
Yeah. That didn’t last long. Knowing that I wouldn’t have ice cream that day made me crave it all the more. I yearned. I ached. I needed. Within hours, I had devised a scheme to convince my husband that we should amend our previous resolution.
“It’s too hard to just quit cold turkey. We should start tapering off, say every other day for a couple weeks, then every third day, etc. We could have ice cream tonight, and then again on Monday, and then on our date on Wednesday.”
After a great deal of eye rolling, he acquiesced.
Our weight has stabilized at a forty-pound loss since January. We exercise occasionally, and overall, we eat better. I can only guess that the weight would keep dropping off if we would just stop eating the ice cream.
Chris loves chocolate, I favor simple vanilla. If it’s an option, we both love mint chocolate chip. What’s your favorite flavor? Where do you get your icy indulgences? If it’s not ice cream, what is your guilty pleasure?
Hi. My name is Cheryl. I’m addicted to ice cream.
I don’t think I realized it until last Saturday when I talked myself out of cutting back. Earlier in the day, my husband and I had agreed that we will no longer have ice cream every evening. Instead, we will save the frosty treat for Wednesday afternoons when we walk to the ice cream parlor near work. We shook on it.
Yeah. That didn’t last long. Knowing that I wouldn’t have ice cream that day made me crave it all the more. I yearned. I ached. I needed. Within hours, I had devised a scheme to convince my husband that we should amend our previous resolution.
“It’s too hard to just quit cold turkey. We should start tapering off, say every other day for a couple weeks, then every third day, etc. We could have ice cream tonight, and then again on Monday, and then on our date on Wednesday.”
After a great deal of eye rolling, he acquiesced.
Our weight has stabilized at a forty-pound loss since January. We exercise occasionally, and overall, we eat better. I can only guess that the weight would keep dropping off if we would just stop eating the ice cream.
Chris loves chocolate, I favor simple vanilla. If it’s an option, we both love mint chocolate chip. What’s your favorite flavor? Where do you get your icy indulgences? If it’s not ice cream, what is your guilty pleasure?
Monday, May 05, 2008
Quick Study in Contrast
Before we did our 180 on our health and activity levels, we would spend our weekends parked on the couches, watching TV or fiddling around on the laptop. Ben would usually get a trip to the park once, for maybe 20 minutes. Our only activity would be a trip to Walmart, and I'd usually stay home and nap and let the boys go on their own.
What is it like now? Go, go, go! I still get my naps, but there is no more parking on the couches. If I wasn't washing dishes or cooking in the kitchen, I was hanging laundry on the line outside, with Ben learning to joy of running through wet sheets and Anna tasting another bite of grass and bark. If we weren't marching around the home improvement store (garden section), we were digging up sod or potting plants. And if we weren't trotting to the playground 12 blocks away, we were strolling to the one 15 blocks away.
How is it? Intensely satisfying. Ben spent hours outside this weekend. Last year, outside time was kind of "eh" to him. This year, he runs out with us at every opportunity. I don't get winded unless I climb up the really tall hills in the neighborhood, but after a mile, my legs start to gently ache. I don't mind at all.
The plan for today? A two-mile (one-way) walk to the post office to mail something to my sister Jolene in Oshkosh, a rest stop at the mall where there's a play area for Ben to stretch his legs, a detour to the pottery place to pick up the pieces that we painted on my birthday, and a meet-and-greet at Daddy's work on the way back home. I'm so excited, and I wonder what it will feel like. Will I regret it halfway there? Will I regret it when I get to the far point and realize I have to walk back? Am I going to be a sweaty mess by the time we see Chris?
In other news, we spent a huge chunk of our stimulus check at the home improvement store. We bought subfloor and laminate for our basement remodeling project, two big bushes for the front of the house, dozens of annuals, two hanging planters with scroll-y arm brackets and garden tools. I shed a tear last night as Chris was digging up the front of the house to plant those bushes. We are real homeowners. This is not something that people who are just renting would bother with.
I'm going to post pictures of all of the outside projects later. I'm rather proud. I think our house is the cutest on the block now.
What is it like now? Go, go, go! I still get my naps, but there is no more parking on the couches. If I wasn't washing dishes or cooking in the kitchen, I was hanging laundry on the line outside, with Ben learning to joy of running through wet sheets and Anna tasting another bite of grass and bark. If we weren't marching around the home improvement store (garden section), we were digging up sod or potting plants. And if we weren't trotting to the playground 12 blocks away, we were strolling to the one 15 blocks away.
How is it? Intensely satisfying. Ben spent hours outside this weekend. Last year, outside time was kind of "eh" to him. This year, he runs out with us at every opportunity. I don't get winded unless I climb up the really tall hills in the neighborhood, but after a mile, my legs start to gently ache. I don't mind at all.
The plan for today? A two-mile (one-way) walk to the post office to mail something to my sister Jolene in Oshkosh, a rest stop at the mall where there's a play area for Ben to stretch his legs, a detour to the pottery place to pick up the pieces that we painted on my birthday, and a meet-and-greet at Daddy's work on the way back home. I'm so excited, and I wonder what it will feel like. Will I regret it halfway there? Will I regret it when I get to the far point and realize I have to walk back? Am I going to be a sweaty mess by the time we see Chris?
In other news, we spent a huge chunk of our stimulus check at the home improvement store. We bought subfloor and laminate for our basement remodeling project, two big bushes for the front of the house, dozens of annuals, two hanging planters with scroll-y arm brackets and garden tools. I shed a tear last night as Chris was digging up the front of the house to plant those bushes. We are real homeowners. This is not something that people who are just renting would bother with.
I'm going to post pictures of all of the outside projects later. I'm rather proud. I think our house is the cutest on the block now.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
This Is Love
You know the honeymoon is over when you keep getting a whiff of stink, and you finally ask your husband to smell your armpits. "Smells fine to me." Then you smell his. "Nope, not your pits." Then you smell his crotch. "Not overly stinky." Then he smells yours. "Not stinky."
This is obviously love, folks.
We often wonder how eharmony really knew that we would be a good match. How did it know our personalities would mesh so well? How did it know that our sense of humor would be amplified in the presence of the other?
Who would have thought that a computer nerd from Tucson and a proofreader from Wisconsin would come together so well and make such perfect children together who were not hit hard with the ugly stick?
Being parents to Ben and Anna is our favorite part of life. Watching Chris delight in my children, giggle at Anna, rest his head against Ben's... Ah. That's the sweetness in life.
This year also revealed a new dimension to our relationship. We are challenging each other daily on our weight loss goals. Partners, compatriots, coaches. I'm so proud of him for every time he makes a decision to break an old habit, every time he trudges out of the house at six am to go work out at the Y before work. He's melting before my eyes.
Even our discussions about his job fill me with a certain joy. The overwhelming tech lingo gets a little ... well ... horribly annoying ... but the discussions about what he can do about things that bug him at work, how he can relate to someone, how he can change his perspective on something. We talk about something, and then he comes back later with a report on an important step he took in a positive direction. It's thrilling to know that he actually values my advice on matters beyond diaper cream and toddler meals.
If you were to stop by our house this weekend to wish us a Happy Anniversary!!, you might see the following, which I feel kind of sums up where we are in our life together right now:
It's the dry erase board where we write down our grocery list during the week. He started the chaos by adding "Bongo drums" to his list of milk, tortillas and formula. I added "hockey stick." It went from there. Every day we'd add something new ourselves and giggle at what the other wrote. This is our marriage: the melding of the practical and the comedic relief.
Happy 3-Year Anniversary, dear one. Thank you for the nightly back scratches, for leaving the toilet seat down, for not stealing the covers *all the time*, and for letting me be the crazy-ass person that I am. **Nuzzle**
This is obviously love, folks.
We often wonder how eharmony really knew that we would be a good match. How did it know our personalities would mesh so well? How did it know that our sense of humor would be amplified in the presence of the other?
Who would have thought that a computer nerd from Tucson and a proofreader from Wisconsin would come together so well and make such perfect children together who were not hit hard with the ugly stick?
Being parents to Ben and Anna is our favorite part of life. Watching Chris delight in my children, giggle at Anna, rest his head against Ben's... Ah. That's the sweetness in life.
This year also revealed a new dimension to our relationship. We are challenging each other daily on our weight loss goals. Partners, compatriots, coaches. I'm so proud of him for every time he makes a decision to break an old habit, every time he trudges out of the house at six am to go work out at the Y before work. He's melting before my eyes.
Even our discussions about his job fill me with a certain joy. The overwhelming tech lingo gets a little ... well ... horribly annoying ... but the discussions about what he can do about things that bug him at work, how he can relate to someone, how he can change his perspective on something. We talk about something, and then he comes back later with a report on an important step he took in a positive direction. It's thrilling to know that he actually values my advice on matters beyond diaper cream and toddler meals.
If you were to stop by our house this weekend to wish us a Happy Anniversary!!, you might see the following, which I feel kind of sums up where we are in our life together right now:
It's the dry erase board where we write down our grocery list during the week. He started the chaos by adding "Bongo drums" to his list of milk, tortillas and formula. I added "hockey stick." It went from there. Every day we'd add something new ourselves and giggle at what the other wrote. This is our marriage: the melding of the practical and the comedic relief.
Happy 3-Year Anniversary, dear one. Thank you for the nightly back scratches, for leaving the toilet seat down, for not stealing the covers *all the time*, and for letting me be the crazy-ass person that I am. **Nuzzle**
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Absence Makes The Heart Grow
So I'm getting into the second night of my vacation here at Nana's. While it hasn't always been restful and stress-free (thanks to the children of course), it has been interesting. We've been learning all about T-Tapp this afternoon and evening, and we just finished the basic instruction video. It's really incredible stuff. Such basic exercises done a tiny bit differently. Makes all the difference. Just 15 minutes, and most of my muscles are fatigued and twitchy, and my body feels warm all over. Wow.
I miss Chris. There's no denying it. I miss having him near me, and I really REALLY appreciate how much he helps me in the evenings. I had such a hard time with Ben last night... being in a strange bed in a bedroom that he can get out of. Eventually, I was sitting in there with him, bawling my eyes out. I was so tired and miserable. And I knew the evening wasn't over yet. I still had to finish getting Anna settled for sleep.
I finally gave up trying to get him to stay in the bedroom and sleep. Really. I just stayed in bed and pretended I didn't hear him. I figured there weren't any guns or knives or scissors at his level, so just let him run around the dark house on his own until he passes out. I didn't care anymore. Luckily, Nana was still up, putzing around, and she managed to get him to sleep.
I am so darned dependent on my husband. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's a freaking saint. It's funny, though, what passes as love notes after nearly three years of marriage. Too busy to sit and email me, he's shown his love in other ways:
"Look honey. I made the bed."
"I'm packed up and off to the gym. I love you."
"All the dishes are done, too."
"Aaron was late because he got pulled over, so I had time to fix the gate."
Ahhh. Music to soothe the disgruntled wifely heart. He sure knows how to sweet talk a lady.
I miss Chris. There's no denying it. I miss having him near me, and I really REALLY appreciate how much he helps me in the evenings. I had such a hard time with Ben last night... being in a strange bed in a bedroom that he can get out of. Eventually, I was sitting in there with him, bawling my eyes out. I was so tired and miserable. And I knew the evening wasn't over yet. I still had to finish getting Anna settled for sleep.
I finally gave up trying to get him to stay in the bedroom and sleep. Really. I just stayed in bed and pretended I didn't hear him. I figured there weren't any guns or knives or scissors at his level, so just let him run around the dark house on his own until he passes out. I didn't care anymore. Luckily, Nana was still up, putzing around, and she managed to get him to sleep.
I am so darned dependent on my husband. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's a freaking saint. It's funny, though, what passes as love notes after nearly three years of marriage. Too busy to sit and email me, he's shown his love in other ways:
"Look honey. I made the bed."
"I'm packed up and off to the gym. I love you." 
"All the dishes are done, too."
"Aaron was late because he got pulled over, so I had time to fix the gate."
Friday, December 28, 2007
The Break Is Not A Break-Up
I don't know. I guess if I were to look at me from outside, I might see it more. I know I've been unusually cranky and sad and blah and despondent. I've had a lot of moments in the last couple weeks when I've threatened to run away from home, mentally planned my escape, weighed the pros and cons of taking the children with.
I saw a joke in the Reader's Digest on Monday that said something to the effect that this woman wasn't suffering many ill side effects from weaning off of her anti-depressants, but her husband suddenly became a jerk.
I don't think the children are any more difficult than before, and I'm pretty sure that Chris hasn't actually turned into an apathetic slob. I think it's me who has changed.
So I mentioned wanting to run away when I was talking to my mom. She thinks it would be a great idea if I ran away with the kids up to Minocqua for a few days. She would help me with the children, and I could relax and sleep more and not have any real responsibilities for a couple of days. My mother thinks I might be suffering from post-partum depression. My mother of all people. That's a wake-up call if I ever heard one.
I don't know if I'll go yet. We'll see how the next week goes. I might have Ben go up north for a few days or I might have him go to daycare once a week for the next month. It would give me a break. Anna isn't really all that difficult, or, it's harder to remove myself from her because of our breastfeeding tether. Or I could go on the prescribed vacation. I'm just scared I wouldn't want to come home. I'm scared that I'd come home to a huge pile of dirty laundry, empty coke bottles scattered around the house, fetid dirty dishes in the sink and no apple juice or clean spoons. I'm scared of what that would do to my marriage.
I saw a joke in the Reader's Digest on Monday that said something to the effect that this woman wasn't suffering many ill side effects from weaning off of her anti-depressants, but her husband suddenly became a jerk.
I don't think the children are any more difficult than before, and I'm pretty sure that Chris hasn't actually turned into an apathetic slob. I think it's me who has changed.
So I mentioned wanting to run away when I was talking to my mom. She thinks it would be a great idea if I ran away with the kids up to Minocqua for a few days. She would help me with the children, and I could relax and sleep more and not have any real responsibilities for a couple of days. My mother thinks I might be suffering from post-partum depression. My mother of all people. That's a wake-up call if I ever heard one.
I don't know if I'll go yet. We'll see how the next week goes. I might have Ben go up north for a few days or I might have him go to daycare once a week for the next month. It would give me a break. Anna isn't really all that difficult, or, it's harder to remove myself from her because of our breastfeeding tether. Or I could go on the prescribed vacation. I'm just scared I wouldn't want to come home. I'm scared that I'd come home to a huge pile of dirty laundry, empty coke bottles scattered around the house, fetid dirty dishes in the sink and no apple juice or clean spoons. I'm scared of what that would do to my marriage.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Snippy-Snippy Day
It's Snippy-Snippy Day here in the Mathis household. We leave in fifteen minutes.
I had to sign a consent form as a spouse since as a spouse, I have a reasonable right to my husband's spermies. Yeah. I don't want them anymore.
While Chris is basking in the glow of valium and a local anesthetic, I'll be upstairs with Anna at her two-month checkup. It's hard to believe she's two months old already. It feels like she's always been a part of our family, but it also seems like I was just giving birth to her a few days ago.
It's been a busy week. Lots of gift wrapping and ornament making. Lots and lots of cleaning and moving furniture around. We finally got our new couches here on Wednesday, and I'm totally infatuated with my living room furniture now. You can look forward to an entire couch post this weekend extolling the virtues of my sofas with pictures.
We've got to start packing up the kids now. Ben's off to daycare for the day so I can work on Christmas cards when we get back. I'll be providing a constant supply of ice packs to my dear husband all weekend long. I figure the least I can do is coddle him a little since someone's slicing into his testicles today. Happy V-Snip Day!
I had to sign a consent form as a spouse since as a spouse, I have a reasonable right to my husband's spermies. Yeah. I don't want them anymore.
While Chris is basking in the glow of valium and a local anesthetic, I'll be upstairs with Anna at her two-month checkup. It's hard to believe she's two months old already. It feels like she's always been a part of our family, but it also seems like I was just giving birth to her a few days ago.
It's been a busy week. Lots of gift wrapping and ornament making. Lots and lots of cleaning and moving furniture around. We finally got our new couches here on Wednesday, and I'm totally infatuated with my living room furniture now. You can look forward to an entire couch post this weekend extolling the virtues of my sofas with pictures.
We've got to start packing up the kids now. Ben's off to daycare for the day so I can work on Christmas cards when we get back. I'll be providing a constant supply of ice packs to my dear husband all weekend long. I figure the least I can do is coddle him a little since someone's slicing into his testicles today. Happy V-Snip Day!
Saturday, November 17, 2007
The Politics of Sleeping
We had a good system for a while. Anna would sleep in her bassinet next to Chris while he was up in the living room and then next to him while he slept on the bed in the dining room. When she'd wake up after midnight to be changed and fed, we'd switch places, and he'd get to sleep off duty while I tried to sleep with Anna. I didn't bother with the bassinet, though. I pulled her into bed with me. We both would sleep for two or three hours stretches at a time. It was wonderful.
This last week, Anna stopped sleeping in her bassinet. She would fuss and grunt and eventually work herself up into screams. She'd only sleep while curled up in someone's arms, against their chest. That totally ruined Chris's routine. He cannot, I repeat, cannot sleep with Anna against him.
Friday morning, while he was changing her diaper and we were both half asleep, he announced that it was my fault that she wasn't sleeping in the bassinet. I had spoiled her by co-sleeping. Not only that, he was going to ask her pediatrician to have a talk with me about the dangers of co-sleeping.
I haven't had the strength or the will to fight Chris since an argument we had just after Anna was born. It feels futile to me. So I just sat there, staring at him. I couldn't believe he was going to "tell on me."
Eventually, we tried to remember what we had done with Ben, since this was an issue with him as well, one that sparked one of our first huge shouting fights as a married couple. We couldn't really remember. I think he slept in a swaddle while in the carseat. So we're going to try that. During the day, I'll try to remember to put her down while she's sleeping instead of letting her sleep on my chest (like she's doing right now. Shhhh.)
The thing about co-sleeping is that if both parties aren't on board, it doesn't work. Even if I said I'd only sleep with Anna in the other bed, Chris still wouldn't be happy. He doesn't really think it's dangerous, he just doesn't want to give up his "shift" with her. I think it's like a badge of honor with him that he lets me sleep undisturbed for 3-5 hours every night. He really wants her to be able to sleep on her own.
I'd love to keep co-sleeping with Anna. It feels right to have her nestled against me. When I roll over, she rolls with me. I was even getting the hang of nursing while lying down. My "gut" feels that one month old is too young to start sleep training... we'll keep trying out some compromises until something works... or Chris gives up and lets me sleep with her.
This last week, Anna stopped sleeping in her bassinet. She would fuss and grunt and eventually work herself up into screams. She'd only sleep while curled up in someone's arms, against their chest. That totally ruined Chris's routine. He cannot, I repeat, cannot sleep with Anna against him.
Friday morning, while he was changing her diaper and we were both half asleep, he announced that it was my fault that she wasn't sleeping in the bassinet. I had spoiled her by co-sleeping. Not only that, he was going to ask her pediatrician to have a talk with me about the dangers of co-sleeping.
I haven't had the strength or the will to fight Chris since an argument we had just after Anna was born. It feels futile to me. So I just sat there, staring at him. I couldn't believe he was going to "tell on me."
Eventually, we tried to remember what we had done with Ben, since this was an issue with him as well, one that sparked one of our first huge shouting fights as a married couple. We couldn't really remember. I think he slept in a swaddle while in the carseat. So we're going to try that. During the day, I'll try to remember to put her down while she's sleeping instead of letting her sleep on my chest (like she's doing right now. Shhhh.)
The thing about co-sleeping is that if both parties aren't on board, it doesn't work. Even if I said I'd only sleep with Anna in the other bed, Chris still wouldn't be happy. He doesn't really think it's dangerous, he just doesn't want to give up his "shift" with her. I think it's like a badge of honor with him that he lets me sleep undisturbed for 3-5 hours every night. He really wants her to be able to sleep on her own.
I'd love to keep co-sleeping with Anna. It feels right to have her nestled against me. When I roll over, she rolls with me. I was even getting the hang of nursing while lying down. My "gut" feels that one month old is too young to start sleep training... we'll keep trying out some compromises until something works... or Chris gives up and lets me sleep with her.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Oh No He Didn't
I can't believe he just said that.
I was expressing mock scorn over Dana's faltering on NaBloPoMo, and my husband uttered the unspeakable.
"I bet in three years this won't matter so much anymore."
I remained silent, so he continued to explain himself better.
"I mean you probably won't be blogging in three years. You won't care about stuff like that because you'll be too busy chasing after our kids."
Blogging is a lifeline right now. I don't know if it'll be a lifeline for me in a few years, but it matters now. Now while my life is changing every time I blink.
I was expressing mock scorn over Dana's faltering on NaBloPoMo, and my husband uttered the unspeakable.
"I bet in three years this won't matter so much anymore."
I remained silent, so he continued to explain himself better.
"I mean you probably won't be blogging in three years. You won't care about stuff like that because you'll be too busy chasing after our kids."
Blogging is a lifeline right now. I don't know if it'll be a lifeline for me in a few years, but it matters now. Now while my life is changing every time I blink.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood
I love Mister Rogers, but that's not what this post is about.
We bought this house in January. Our first house with our first yard. We have small patches of lawn in the front and a huge expanse of yard in the back.
This beautimus yard landscape requires mowing, and we purchased our very own lawnmower in the spring. [Dear innocent husband didn't even realize that he bought a Packers-themed mower. He hates football and doesn't understand that living in Wisconsin makes him an obligatory Packers fan. Now he explains to anyone who sees the mower that he is not a Packers fan. I worry that he'll get beaten for statements like that.]
The mower has an attachment bag to gather clippings for mulch. Chris thinks this is the coolest thing in the world. He proudly and religiously emptied the mulch bag 15-20 times every mow session. His designated mulch pile is under the clothesline against the back wall of the garage.
Anna was born in the middle of October, and we were still in the throes of tiredness and excitement when leaf pickup occurred last week. We didn't rake our yard like we were supposed to, and we certainly didn't rake the leaves into the street for pickup. Last weekend, Chris mowed the lawn, effectively vacuuming up the leaves, and dumped the clippings onto the mulch pile.
A couple days later, a city inspector came to the property and made note of the pile. He didn't recognize it as a mulch pile but as an unlawful storage of refuse materials. We received a letter in the mail on Wednesday stating that we had three days to remove the pile and dispose of our refuse properly.
Wow, did that upset Chris! His precious mulch pile (though we don't have a garden yet) was being declared a nuisance.
Our garage is against our property line, and our backyard is not separated by fence or hedge from our neighbor's yard. That means that our neighbors, in essence, get to share the beauty of our mulch pile. I wouldn't blame them for complaining about it.
So the big question is how do you make a mulch pile look like a mulch pile and not a pile of yard waste that wasn't deposed of properly? Chris would have the answer to this question if he had remembered to call the city guy on Thursday or Friday during his office hours. But he didn't, and that means he has to bag up his mulch pile today. We predict 8-12 yard bags full of clipped grass and leaves.
In marriage you have let your spouse have their little oddities. I hate putting a new roll of toilet paper in the holder. Chris needs mulch though we don't have a garden. I tried to explain to him that the battle isn't worth it, and we should just haul the bags to the yard waste site and let it go, but, as Chris explained to me, "The mulch pile may not be important to you, but it's important to me."
Until Chris talks to the city property inspector and learns what we have to do to have a mulch storage area, our bags of mulch will be stored in our garage. I have a feeling that in a few weeks, we'll be the proud owners of a chicken wire fence in a remote corner of the yard.
We bought this house in January. Our first house with our first yard. We have small patches of lawn in the front and a huge expanse of yard in the back.
This beautimus yard landscape requires mowing, and we purchased our very own lawnmower in the spring. [Dear innocent husband didn't even realize that he bought a Packers-themed mower. He hates football and doesn't understand that living in Wisconsin makes him an obligatory Packers fan. Now he explains to anyone who sees the mower that he is not a Packers fan. I worry that he'll get beaten for statements like that.]
The mower has an attachment bag to gather clippings for mulch. Chris thinks this is the coolest thing in the world. He proudly and religiously emptied the mulch bag 15-20 times every mow session. His designated mulch pile is under the clothesline against the back wall of the garage.
Anna was born in the middle of October, and we were still in the throes of tiredness and excitement when leaf pickup occurred last week. We didn't rake our yard like we were supposed to, and we certainly didn't rake the leaves into the street for pickup. Last weekend, Chris mowed the lawn, effectively vacuuming up the leaves, and dumped the clippings onto the mulch pile.
A couple days later, a city inspector came to the property and made note of the pile. He didn't recognize it as a mulch pile but as an unlawful storage of refuse materials. We received a letter in the mail on Wednesday stating that we had three days to remove the pile and dispose of our refuse properly.
Wow, did that upset Chris! His precious mulch pile (though we don't have a garden yet) was being declared a nuisance.
Our garage is against our property line, and our backyard is not separated by fence or hedge from our neighbor's yard. That means that our neighbors, in essence, get to share the beauty of our mulch pile. I wouldn't blame them for complaining about it.
So the big question is how do you make a mulch pile look like a mulch pile and not a pile of yard waste that wasn't deposed of properly? Chris would have the answer to this question if he had remembered to call the city guy on Thursday or Friday during his office hours. But he didn't, and that means he has to bag up his mulch pile today. We predict 8-12 yard bags full of clipped grass and leaves.
In marriage you have let your spouse have their little oddities. I hate putting a new roll of toilet paper in the holder. Chris needs mulch though we don't have a garden. I tried to explain to him that the battle isn't worth it, and we should just haul the bags to the yard waste site and let it go, but, as Chris explained to me, "The mulch pile may not be important to you, but it's important to me."
Until Chris talks to the city property inspector and learns what we have to do to have a mulch storage area, our bags of mulch will be stored in our garage. I have a feeling that in a few weeks, we'll be the proud owners of a chicken wire fence in a remote corner of the yard.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Off We Go
Today's the day we leave on our mini-babymoon. That crazy plan to leave my dear son with my mother for two nights while my husband and I disappear somewhere to "reconnect." It sounds sordid to me, but hey. We're doing it.
That means no laptop until Thursday evening. Yikes.
Do Chris and I really need time to ourselves? Eh. Maybe. The point of it is to have time together, alone as a couple, before Anna arrives and creates a delightful uproar in our lives. How "together" we can get with this gigantic baby belly in front of me is debatable. At the very least, we'll be cuddling and watching cable TV, and Chris will help me take a bubble bath, and my feet will finally get clean.
I will miss Ben. He's going through such a difficult time right now with the transition from daycare. While he's not miserable, his psyche is dealing with some turmoil, and he has had lots of nightmares. I feel bad leaving him with my mom right now. She'll be great with him, and she's a very nurturing, kind woman, but she's not his mommy or daddy. It's different, right?
Can you tell this will be the first night I've spent away from my son since his birth? And it'll be two nights.
In other news, my man crush has found himself a lady love, and I was devastated at the news. It was fun to have someone pining for me again. I think I'd be more comfortable with the concept if he had picked a nicer lady. The woman in question had always given me the cold shoulder. She never seemed very warm and kind... she's so *not* me. Apparently, he knows a different side of her. She's probably very different away from work, because he extols her "big heart." Whatever. Bastard. :)
Also, I had my 31 week checkup yesterday, and everything's peachy. I've lost four pounds since my last checkup, and I'm thrilled. I've already reached my "goal" weight for the whole pregnancy, and I still have a couple months to go. So I've tried to be more active and to eat less and better. Anna is still getting the nutrition that she needs, and she's still thriving. Yay.
Have a good few days, bloggy world. I'll be off in the wonderful world of marital bliss sans toddler.
That means no laptop until Thursday evening. Yikes.
Do Chris and I really need time to ourselves? Eh. Maybe. The point of it is to have time together, alone as a couple, before Anna arrives and creates a delightful uproar in our lives. How "together" we can get with this gigantic baby belly in front of me is debatable. At the very least, we'll be cuddling and watching cable TV, and Chris will help me take a bubble bath, and my feet will finally get clean.
I will miss Ben. He's going through such a difficult time right now with the transition from daycare. While he's not miserable, his psyche is dealing with some turmoil, and he has had lots of nightmares. I feel bad leaving him with my mom right now. She'll be great with him, and she's a very nurturing, kind woman, but she's not his mommy or daddy. It's different, right?
Can you tell this will be the first night I've spent away from my son since his birth? And it'll be two nights.
In other news, my man crush has found himself a lady love, and I was devastated at the news. It was fun to have someone pining for me again. I think I'd be more comfortable with the concept if he had picked a nicer lady. The woman in question had always given me the cold shoulder. She never seemed very warm and kind... she's so *not* me. Apparently, he knows a different side of her. She's probably very different away from work, because he extols her "big heart." Whatever. Bastard. :)
Also, I had my 31 week checkup yesterday, and everything's peachy. I've lost four pounds since my last checkup, and I'm thrilled. I've already reached my "goal" weight for the whole pregnancy, and I still have a couple months to go. So I've tried to be more active and to eat less and better. Anna is still getting the nutrition that she needs, and she's still thriving. Yay.
Have a good few days, bloggy world. I'll be off in the wonderful world of marital bliss sans toddler.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The State of the Household
I woke up this morning to day four of my new life. At 4:45, which is actually sleeping in for me lately. Pregnancy insomnia is hitting me hard, and I can't sleep in if my life depended on it. I'm still in bed by eight and asleep by nine, but this is cause for adjustment. And I don't hate it. I get at least an hour to myself with a few cups of decaf coffee, my laptop and my heating pad.
I wouldn't say that Ben and I are getting into a routine yet. Life is flowing more smoothly, but it's not always predictable. Ben is still "transitioning" which means he's refusing most meals, still prone to meltdowns and napping erratically. I'm getting more patient, though, which helps. And Ben is learning that Mamma is learning, too. If he wants something or wants to start a new activity, he has to initiate it sometimes.
We've had a couple of good days. I've allowed myself permission to not do so much around the house. I have Tasks That Must Be Completed that include washing the dishes, preparing meals and folding some laundry. Everything else can wait until my next burst of nesting energy.
Ben hasn't made any motions towards wanting to go back to daycare, but I don't really know how he'd express that desire. Maybe he'd insist on putting his shoes on in the morning or start reaching for the doorknob around our usual time. He's not, though. Part of me still wishes I could bring him there for an hour or two, if only so he could be around some other kids. Even when we go running errands, he doesn't really see other kids. Sure, the nice cozy women in the checkout aisle flirt back and play peekaboo, but that's not really the same.
In a couple of weeks we'll start going to the Family Resource Center drop-in playdates, and until then, he'll have to be happy with just me.
As for what's going on in my head and heart... I still feel a bit suspended above it all, like this isn't really my life. I'm going through the motions and doing what is expected of me, and I'm always on the lookout for moments of joy and bliss (which do happen). But the reality hasn't really settled in yet. The good news is that I'm no longer that anxious to go back to work.
Chris and I cuddle more in the evenings, and he's very affectionate and attentive. Our relationship has changed a lot since we're no longer within 200 feet of each other at all times anymore. So we hug more, and I still send him totally inappropriate text messages for him to receive while he's in meetings.
So that's that. My life, four days into the Change.
I wouldn't say that Ben and I are getting into a routine yet. Life is flowing more smoothly, but it's not always predictable. Ben is still "transitioning" which means he's refusing most meals, still prone to meltdowns and napping erratically. I'm getting more patient, though, which helps. And Ben is learning that Mamma is learning, too. If he wants something or wants to start a new activity, he has to initiate it sometimes.
We've had a couple of good days. I've allowed myself permission to not do so much around the house. I have Tasks That Must Be Completed that include washing the dishes, preparing meals and folding some laundry. Everything else can wait until my next burst of nesting energy.
Ben hasn't made any motions towards wanting to go back to daycare, but I don't really know how he'd express that desire. Maybe he'd insist on putting his shoes on in the morning or start reaching for the doorknob around our usual time. He's not, though. Part of me still wishes I could bring him there for an hour or two, if only so he could be around some other kids. Even when we go running errands, he doesn't really see other kids. Sure, the nice cozy women in the checkout aisle flirt back and play peekaboo, but that's not really the same.
In a couple of weeks we'll start going to the Family Resource Center drop-in playdates, and until then, he'll have to be happy with just me.
As for what's going on in my head and heart... I still feel a bit suspended above it all, like this isn't really my life. I'm going through the motions and doing what is expected of me, and I'm always on the lookout for moments of joy and bliss (which do happen). But the reality hasn't really settled in yet. The good news is that I'm no longer that anxious to go back to work.
Chris and I cuddle more in the evenings, and he's very affectionate and attentive. Our relationship has changed a lot since we're no longer within 200 feet of each other at all times anymore. So we hug more, and I still send him totally inappropriate text messages for him to receive while he's in meetings.
So that's that. My life, four days into the Change.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Newsy Post with Giant Nephew, Boy Wizard and Shaking Belly Syndrome
I participated in an important civic duty this morning. Yup, folks. I didn't try to get a medical exemption from jury duty. I showed up. The fine people in our county clerk of courts office summoned 68 people for a jury trial... and by random luck, I was number 68 of 68. I knew for most of the morning that there was almost no chance in hell I'd get chosen to be on the jury. And of course I wasn't. Shortly before lunch, prospective jurors 27 and above were dismissed.
To tell you the truth, I was mostly annoyed at listening to my fellow citizens bitch and moan about being summoned and how inconvenient it was. Hell yeah, it's inconvenient. And I hope that more employers are like mine and fully compensate employees for time spent on juries. But I was proud to be randomly selected to serve, and I would have been proud to serve the whole 12 days even if it meant that I'd be uncomfortable sitting for so long without breaks and water. I'm done preaching now.
My Anna belly is really active now. She's kicking and punching and squirming a lot. It's even gotten to the point that I can see the movement. My dear husband has only felt a few nudges and some moving from side to side, but even those brief encounters have made him much more interested in my belly. He'll come over by me and start petting my belly to say "hi" to the baby. It's quite sweet, really.
Ben is... well. He's a toddler. What can I say? He's a toddler who is cutting four molars at one time. Just one tip from each molar has cut through so far, and I'm sure his gums are very sensitive and swollen. Not one to complain, he expresses his frustration and bitterness by being naughty and easily annoyed. Last week, he had a meltdown when we came to pick him up from daycare. He wanted to stay there and play with his friends some more. Yesterday, he had a playdate with my boss's son, and he had a total meltdown when we came to pick him up and take him home. This morning, he refused to hug us goodbye at daycare, instead running to hide behind the legs of dear Amber, his caregiver.
Really. We're not getting worried about that. Nope. Not at all. Sure, it seems like he prefers pretty much anyone else over his mommy and daddy, and I've rarely heard of toddlers who do that... but we're not taking it personally. Really. Do you believe me? Or am I not laying the sarcasm on thick enough?
I know it's just a phase and he still loves us. When we finally do get home, he shows us affection. It's just that given the choice right now, he'd rather be elsewhere. Oh well.
Our weekend was fine. My sister and her son came over Saturday afternoon. My dear nephew Gage is 8 months old and 24 pounds. He's already cruising on furniture and is wearing the same size clothes as Ben. He's huge. And Ben loves him dearly. He kept going over to give him hugs, and while Gage was in his walker, Ben enjoyed pushing him around the house. Later, we all went to the public pool to let the kids play... and I actually scored a tan line.
The purpose of my sister's visit was to bring over all of the baby stuff she had at her house. Lots of it was stuff I had given her before Gage's birth. Some was stuff she had acquired at her baby shower. And totes and totes full of baby clothes and opened packs of diapers. A couple of the totes were full of items she's picked up at rummage sales this summer. Lots of stuff for Anna and stuff for Ben this winter. It's nice to have a sister like that.
Chester accused me of glowing and beaming while I went through the stuff for Anna. I couldn't help myself. I'm really excited to have a daughter.
Yesterday we left Ben at my boss's house while we went and saw Harry Potter at the movie theatre. I ate a huge bucket of popcorn and had to get up and pee no less than six times. Despite the constant up and down, I enjoyed myself, and Chester enjoyed having me to himself for the "date." We aren't able to be intimate like we would normally be as a young married couple, if you know what I mean, and while our relationship remains strong, it's easy to forget that we're man and wife when we're not partaking in the pleasures of the flesh. Whoa. TMI. Time for me to stop typing.
To tell you the truth, I was mostly annoyed at listening to my fellow citizens bitch and moan about being summoned and how inconvenient it was. Hell yeah, it's inconvenient. And I hope that more employers are like mine and fully compensate employees for time spent on juries. But I was proud to be randomly selected to serve, and I would have been proud to serve the whole 12 days even if it meant that I'd be uncomfortable sitting for so long without breaks and water. I'm done preaching now.
My Anna belly is really active now. She's kicking and punching and squirming a lot. It's even gotten to the point that I can see the movement. My dear husband has only felt a few nudges and some moving from side to side, but even those brief encounters have made him much more interested in my belly. He'll come over by me and start petting my belly to say "hi" to the baby. It's quite sweet, really.
Ben is... well. He's a toddler. What can I say? He's a toddler who is cutting four molars at one time. Just one tip from each molar has cut through so far, and I'm sure his gums are very sensitive and swollen. Not one to complain, he expresses his frustration and bitterness by being naughty and easily annoyed. Last week, he had a meltdown when we came to pick him up from daycare. He wanted to stay there and play with his friends some more. Yesterday, he had a playdate with my boss's son, and he had a total meltdown when we came to pick him up and take him home. This morning, he refused to hug us goodbye at daycare, instead running to hide behind the legs of dear Amber, his caregiver.
Really. We're not getting worried about that. Nope. Not at all. Sure, it seems like he prefers pretty much anyone else over his mommy and daddy, and I've rarely heard of toddlers who do that... but we're not taking it personally. Really. Do you believe me? Or am I not laying the sarcasm on thick enough?
I know it's just a phase and he still loves us. When we finally do get home, he shows us affection. It's just that given the choice right now, he'd rather be elsewhere. Oh well.
Our weekend was fine. My sister and her son came over Saturday afternoon. My dear nephew Gage is 8 months old and 24 pounds. He's already cruising on furniture and is wearing the same size clothes as Ben. He's huge. And Ben loves him dearly. He kept going over to give him hugs, and while Gage was in his walker, Ben enjoyed pushing him around the house. Later, we all went to the public pool to let the kids play... and I actually scored a tan line.
The purpose of my sister's visit was to bring over all of the baby stuff she had at her house. Lots of it was stuff I had given her before Gage's birth. Some was stuff she had acquired at her baby shower. And totes and totes full of baby clothes and opened packs of diapers. A couple of the totes were full of items she's picked up at rummage sales this summer. Lots of stuff for Anna and stuff for Ben this winter. It's nice to have a sister like that.
Chester accused me of glowing and beaming while I went through the stuff for Anna. I couldn't help myself. I'm really excited to have a daughter.
Yesterday we left Ben at my boss's house while we went and saw Harry Potter at the movie theatre. I ate a huge bucket of popcorn and had to get up and pee no less than six times. Despite the constant up and down, I enjoyed myself, and Chester enjoyed having me to himself for the "date." We aren't able to be intimate like we would normally be as a young married couple, if you know what I mean, and while our relationship remains strong, it's easy to forget that we're man and wife when we're not partaking in the pleasures of the flesh. Whoa. TMI. Time for me to stop typing.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Happy Two-Year Anniversary To Me
Today is our 2-year wedding anniversary, so I figured I'd expound on the wonders of our marriage.
I still think it was pretty much an arranged marriage, courtesy of eharmony. Seriously. He lived in Tucson, and besides talking on the phone daily, we only saw each other twice before I flew myself down there to marry the guy. It's crazy to think about.
We went into the relationship with our cards (and baggage) on the table. We both wanted security, commitment, marriage and a family. I wasn't willing to move, but he wanted a colder climate. I've done some awful things in my past, but so has he. I have a fear of abandonment, and so does he. Etc. The cards. The baggage. Out there.
I hated his hair when I first met him. He had a greasy, long blonde ponytail that went down his back. Pulled tight. Shaved up the sides. And he was balding a bit. Totally hated his hair. I didn't ask him to cut it, but the gods smiled on me, and about four months into our long-distance relationship, he decided that as a symbol of moving on to the next phase of his life, he'd chop it off. And I think he's handsome now. Sigh of relief.
He also had a BO problem that was part of his baggage. I wasn't willing to accept this as a way of life, though. And I seriously think it was something in the atmosphere or something that he ate down there, because once he was moved up here to Wisconsin, he wasn't very stinky. Of course I made sure that he showered every day AND wore deodorant.
I'm a crazy, neurotic person who usually has to be medicated to function in normal society. I was also a smoker. I'm not sure I'm any less neurotic (although now I don't always need medication), but I did quit smoking for him. I still miss it, and it's been more than two years. But I don't miss a lot of things about smoking. The money, the smell, the need to stand outside in the bitter cold WI winters.
So we brought two slighty disfunctional people together and made a marriage. We quickly developed routines, and we prefer each other's company to that of others most of the time. We like the same things, and we don't argue a lot. And we both love our son, and we both are looking forward to meeting this new little baby.
The man treats me like a princess. He loves going out of his way to do nice things for me, and every single evening, he scratches my back for at least five to ten minutes. And since I like back scratches better than back massages, it's a good match.
He's very affectionate and gets all giddy when I hold hands with him in public. He likes cuddling almost more than I do, and he lets me have five pillows on my side of the bed.
He loves his job, and doesn't mind putting in overtime. He loves doing projects around the house, and even finishes them sometimes.
He's wonderful. And he's very different from my father.
Don't get me wrong, I love my dad, but he makes a lousy husband. When I was a little girl, I kept hoping my parents would get a divorce so the fighting would stop. My dad is a workaholic, and he has very traditional views of a man's role and a woman's role in the house. So my mom stayed at home, and her number one job was catering to his every whim. Coffee on time, dinner in front of the tv, chocolate milk, keeping the kids as quiet as possible while he was around, not talking about her faith, etc. When my mom wouldn't do something right, he'd call her a dipshit, and say that she's worthless. Every day of my life growing up. It sucked. Sure, he didn't hit her or us, but the verbal abuse still rings in my ears today.
Once he was older and found a company he enjoyed working for, he mellowed out a little bit, but his incapability to be a loving and supportive husband (let alone father) continued. The fighting wouldn't be every day, but at least once a week.
A couple years ago, mom took him to the emergency room because of a cold that wasn't getting any better. He was admitted to the ICU and needed 8 pints of blood. Why? Congestive heart failure and colon cancer. After the surgeries and the chemotherapy, he is actually much better to be around, and my mom is happier. He's more relaxed and more easy going. And he gets coffee for my mom every day, and he seems to delight in his grandchildren. At Thanksgiving, they announced that they will not get divorced now. After forty years of marriage, they figure it'd be easier to just stay together.
And Chester is nothing like him. My husband will do his share of the chores when I remind him to, and he loves making my life easier. He doesn't ever call me names, and he doesn't avoid spending time with our son. He cherishes us like we are his treasures, and he is very much a family man. We are his number one priority. And I love him for it.
I'm the one who has to be careful not to turn into my father. I try to adjust the way I work with Chester so that I'm nothing like my dad. It's tough. I catch myself being very irritated and short tempered with him. Sometimes I get so frustrated, I want to call him a bad name and put a pound of scorn behind it. I love being treated like a princess, and I have to remind myself that I can't make Chester do everything.
So our marriage has become a constant competition to be sweeter, more loving, more generous and kinder every day. It's not a bad way to live.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Saturday With My Boys
It all started out pretty well. We stayed in bed a lot later than usual. I didn't get up until six, and Chester didn't get up until six-thirty. While I was cooking breakfast, Chester woke up the boy. I should have known something was wrong since he slept in so late.
Around seven-thirty, I plopped Ben down in his high chair for breakfast. Chester was in the shower; he had to be at work by eight for some overtime project with his boss. As I started to put on Ben's bib, he coughed... and then gagged... and then vomited. It kept coming and coming. I think it was even lunch from yesterday. It was awful and smelly and chunky. Nasty. I went into the bathroom and told Chester to help.
After the deluge was over, Ben needed a bath. He was pretty listless, but still in a generally good mood. I gave him a bottle of milk after his bath. Ten minutes later, it was all over our floors and a stack of blankets on the floor. Ick. Ick. Ick.
When Chester got back from work at noon, and after our three hour nap, he also came down with a stomach bug.
This has been a really long day. I even had to shovel our sidewalk. And since we have a winter storm warning, I have a feeling I'll be out there at least another two times this weekend.
Really, I'm not that pissy of a person. It's just been a few bad days. My life is still really good. I have a lovely marriage, an adorable son, a warm house. We're getting a good chunk of money back from the IRS, so we'll even be able to pay off some of our bills. Life is good. Great. I just wish it didn't have to contain chunky, stinky vomit.
Around seven-thirty, I plopped Ben down in his high chair for breakfast. Chester was in the shower; he had to be at work by eight for some overtime project with his boss. As I started to put on Ben's bib, he coughed... and then gagged... and then vomited. It kept coming and coming. I think it was even lunch from yesterday. It was awful and smelly and chunky. Nasty. I went into the bathroom and told Chester to help.
After the deluge was over, Ben needed a bath. He was pretty listless, but still in a generally good mood. I gave him a bottle of milk after his bath. Ten minutes later, it was all over our floors and a stack of blankets on the floor. Ick. Ick. Ick.
When Chester got back from work at noon, and after our three hour nap, he also came down with a stomach bug.
This has been a really long day. I even had to shovel our sidewalk. And since we have a winter storm warning, I have a feeling I'll be out there at least another two times this weekend.
Really, I'm not that pissy of a person. It's just been a few bad days. My life is still really good. I have a lovely marriage, an adorable son, a warm house. We're getting a good chunk of money back from the IRS, so we'll even be able to pay off some of our bills. Life is good. Great. I just wish it didn't have to contain chunky, stinky vomit.
Monday, January 08, 2007
I have plenty of cheese with my Whine, thank you.
Today is the day that Chester leaves for Four Sleeps, Four Daytimes. He'll be back late Friday night.
Yes, I'm depressed about this. He and I haven't spent the night away from each other since we got married. What can I say? He's my best friend, and it sucks that he won't be around. It also sucks that now I'll have to take care of The Boy all by myself, and that'll be exhausting.
Tuesday night, play date at the mall. Wednesday night, my mom is coming for an overnight to give me a little break. Thursday night, best friend Mary and her kids are coming over to keep us company.
I'm such a wimp. It doesn't help that I've been super nauseated for the past few days (can we say Maybe Baby) and feeling very tired.
I'm sorry this is such a whiny email. I'm in a pitiful mood, and I know it.
On the brighter side, I am overflowing with blessings every day. My cup runneth over. But dang it. I still want my husband to be around.
Yes, I'm depressed about this. He and I haven't spent the night away from each other since we got married. What can I say? He's my best friend, and it sucks that he won't be around. It also sucks that now I'll have to take care of The Boy all by myself, and that'll be exhausting.
Tuesday night, play date at the mall. Wednesday night, my mom is coming for an overnight to give me a little break. Thursday night, best friend Mary and her kids are coming over to keep us company.
I'm such a wimp. It doesn't help that I've been super nauseated for the past few days (can we say Maybe Baby) and feeling very tired.
I'm sorry this is such a whiny email. I'm in a pitiful mood, and I know it.
On the brighter side, I am overflowing with blessings every day. My cup runneth over. But dang it. I still want my husband to be around.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Ben, the Boy with Soggy Diapers
Ben has his one-year checkup today. It's an exciting day that started with a bath because the boy was soaked in urine from head to toe when he woke up. That's a problem I don't quite know how to solve. I think we'll have to get some fancy overnight diapers for him. This is something that's been going on for a couple of weeks. We don't usually give him a bath, just wipe him down with some diaper wipes, but with his doctor's appointment today, I wanted him to smell pretty.
Last night on our way home from Walmart, Ben was kicking his snow boots against the door until they fell off, and then we heard some serious grunting and whining coming from the back seat as he strained forward against his car seat belts. He was pulling off his socks. He left them in a neat pile on the side of his car seat, though. At least he's conscientious about it. We had a nice chuckle.
Next week Chester will be gone to Milwaukee for work training. His boss told him it would be business casual. And since he only has one pair of non-denim pants, he gets to go shopping this weekend for more khaki pants. And that gave me an excuse to buy myself a pair of khaki pants as well. How a lady can survive with only three pairs of pants (two jeans, one black knit) is beyond me. So while Chester and Ben went grocery shopping, I had a quick spree at Lane Bryant. I bought two tops and one pair of khaki pants that will have to be hemmed a couple of inches because I'm too short for Average and too tall for Petite. It was fun. I tried on lots of clearance tops that made me giggle. I don't belong in a shirt with poet/lacy cuffs and puffed sleeves.
My dear husband is on a health kick as of yesterday. He had an ENT appointment, and they weighed him beforehand. He is a couple of pounds over his own personal maximum (he'd kill me if I revealed it, even if I don't use his real name on this blog). So he bought lots of healthy stuff, which is great. I'm looking forward to it, and I'll support him as much as I can. Goodness knows I can stand to lose a few pounds (like a hundred).
Last night on our way home from Walmart, Ben was kicking his snow boots against the door until they fell off, and then we heard some serious grunting and whining coming from the back seat as he strained forward against his car seat belts. He was pulling off his socks. He left them in a neat pile on the side of his car seat, though. At least he's conscientious about it. We had a nice chuckle.
Next week Chester will be gone to Milwaukee for work training. His boss told him it would be business casual. And since he only has one pair of non-denim pants, he gets to go shopping this weekend for more khaki pants. And that gave me an excuse to buy myself a pair of khaki pants as well. How a lady can survive with only three pairs of pants (two jeans, one black knit) is beyond me. So while Chester and Ben went grocery shopping, I had a quick spree at Lane Bryant. I bought two tops and one pair of khaki pants that will have to be hemmed a couple of inches because I'm too short for Average and too tall for Petite. It was fun. I tried on lots of clearance tops that made me giggle. I don't belong in a shirt with poet/lacy cuffs and puffed sleeves.
My dear husband is on a health kick as of yesterday. He had an ENT appointment, and they weighed him beforehand. He is a couple of pounds over his own personal maximum (he'd kill me if I revealed it, even if I don't use his real name on this blog). So he bought lots of healthy stuff, which is great. I'm looking forward to it, and I'll support him as much as I can. Goodness knows I can stand to lose a few pounds (like a hundred).
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Baby It's Snowy Outside, One Small Leap
Chester was busy digging us out of the remnants of yesterday's snowstorm this morning. About six inches of solid, wet snow. Practically slush. It was almost impossible to use the snowblower. The thrower tube kept clogging.
Yesterday, we put an offer in on the Climbing Tree house. They have until Wednesday to accept or reject the offer. Of course I hope they accept. It's for five thousand under the listing price, appliances included.
After that business, we dropped Ben back off at daycare and went on a little date. Can you believe we had never been to a movie together before? We saw The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith. It was a very nice movie. It made me cry. Both with pity and joy at different times.
It reminded us about how lucky we are. We have a roof over our heads. Warm beds. Plenty of food. Secure jobs. And each other. Our life is so easy, so blessed. Though most times we're living paycheck to paycheck, and we don't have any savings in the bank, we don't have to worry about having a place to sleep or food to eat.
And not only that, we're in pursuit of our own happiness by buying a house. It's all coming together. We took a huge leap and got married, even though we didn't really know that much about each other. It was pure instinct. Our hearts said "Yes, this is the one for you." And we trusted that. Then, even though it took Chester five months to get a job after he moved here, we still started planning a family right away. I was already pregnant before he finally found a job.
Now, we're leaping again. We're buying a house together.
I can't help but privately think about what my life would be like if I had remained with my ex-fiance Scott. He was an actor, brilliantly intelligent, but emotionally troubled and insecure. Definitely not financially solvent. Didn't have a car. But he was the only one I had met who could match me at Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit. He kept putting off moving up here from Milwaukee and getting married.
Thank God he did. The weekend before he was to make the plunge and move in with me, he left a message on my voice mail while I was at the gym. He had just talked to me before I left for the gym. I was blindsided. He said that I was a wonderful person, but it didn't feel right.
I started all my leaps after that. I screamed and hollered for a few hours, but it didn't last long. I moved into a new apartment the week after. And I started going online to personals sites. Including Eharmony. I had a few dates with some local guys. A few months after the voicemail, I finished the eharmony communication levels with a guy from Tucson. And we talked on the phone for the first time on a Saturday morning.
I had gone into work to play online. I gave him my phone number at work, and he called me. That first phone call was magical. We started finishing each other's sentences. It was such an easy conversation, even though we talked about some difficult issues. Right away, we dug all the skeletons out of our closets. We dragged out all of our baggage and laid it all out. We went into the relationship with open eyes.
Within a few days, we knew we would go ahead and get married. I did a background check on him (I'm not a complete idiot or romantic). A few weeks later I flew down to Phoenix to spend the weekend with him.
Leap. I was so nervous walking down the terminal to where he was waiting past the security gates. I was on my cell phone, and he was coaxing me further. It took about half an hour. I kept stopping to sit down and cry and freak out a little. Eventually, we stood face to face. The rest is history. Our history together. A history of leaps and risks and courage and blind faith. And a whole bunch of foolish sentimentality.
It's worked for us. We have Ben. We still get along. We still feel like we're honeymooning.
And we're buying a house!!!!! Yay!!
Yesterday, we put an offer in on the Climbing Tree house. They have until Wednesday to accept or reject the offer. Of course I hope they accept. It's for five thousand under the listing price, appliances included.
After that business, we dropped Ben back off at daycare and went on a little date. Can you believe we had never been to a movie together before? We saw The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith. It was a very nice movie. It made me cry. Both with pity and joy at different times.
It reminded us about how lucky we are. We have a roof over our heads. Warm beds. Plenty of food. Secure jobs. And each other. Our life is so easy, so blessed. Though most times we're living paycheck to paycheck, and we don't have any savings in the bank, we don't have to worry about having a place to sleep or food to eat.
And not only that, we're in pursuit of our own happiness by buying a house. It's all coming together. We took a huge leap and got married, even though we didn't really know that much about each other. It was pure instinct. Our hearts said "Yes, this is the one for you." And we trusted that. Then, even though it took Chester five months to get a job after he moved here, we still started planning a family right away. I was already pregnant before he finally found a job.
Now, we're leaping again. We're buying a house together.
I can't help but privately think about what my life would be like if I had remained with my ex-fiance Scott. He was an actor, brilliantly intelligent, but emotionally troubled and insecure. Definitely not financially solvent. Didn't have a car. But he was the only one I had met who could match me at Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit. He kept putting off moving up here from Milwaukee and getting married.
Thank God he did. The weekend before he was to make the plunge and move in with me, he left a message on my voice mail while I was at the gym. He had just talked to me before I left for the gym. I was blindsided. He said that I was a wonderful person, but it didn't feel right.
I started all my leaps after that. I screamed and hollered for a few hours, but it didn't last long. I moved into a new apartment the week after. And I started going online to personals sites. Including Eharmony. I had a few dates with some local guys. A few months after the voicemail, I finished the eharmony communication levels with a guy from Tucson. And we talked on the phone for the first time on a Saturday morning.
I had gone into work to play online. I gave him my phone number at work, and he called me. That first phone call was magical. We started finishing each other's sentences. It was such an easy conversation, even though we talked about some difficult issues. Right away, we dug all the skeletons out of our closets. We dragged out all of our baggage and laid it all out. We went into the relationship with open eyes.
Within a few days, we knew we would go ahead and get married. I did a background check on him (I'm not a complete idiot or romantic). A few weeks later I flew down to Phoenix to spend the weekend with him.
Leap. I was so nervous walking down the terminal to where he was waiting past the security gates. I was on my cell phone, and he was coaxing me further. It took about half an hour. I kept stopping to sit down and cry and freak out a little. Eventually, we stood face to face. The rest is history. Our history together. A history of leaps and risks and courage and blind faith. And a whole bunch of foolish sentimentality.
It's worked for us. We have Ben. We still get along. We still feel like we're honeymooning.
And we're buying a house!!!!! Yay!!
Monday, December 11, 2006
Concussion, Mortgage March, Ben's Stuffy Head
For the record, I'm bummed that I can't access www.thedanafiles.com today. It says I'm forbidden. The nerve!
Chester gave himself a concussion this morning. He took a shower by the early morning light, and when he exited the tub, he bent over (in the relative darkness) to open up the cabinet. He smashed his forehead. Hard. He's been kind of swimmy, dizzy and nauseated all day.
The Mortgage March keeps going forward. This afternoon we sign for the personal loan to settle my debt (since Chester's was apparently forgiven). So three weeks from now, I should have a pretty little paper in my hand that says my debt was satisfied in full.
We finally made contact with our realtor (Dennis) today. Chester thinks he might be kind of pushy. I said he sounded enthusiastic. This is just because he's already started looking for houses for us. He has a couple he wants us to see this weekend. Unfortunately, he's still going with the 70-75 price range that the mortgage lady gave him. Chester and I have only been looking up to 70.
We drove past the house on 1st Ave that we love this morning on the way to daycare, and I accidentally said, "Oh look. The bus stop is right in front of our house. How convenient." What can I say? That place has the best climbing tree I've ever seen in the backyard. I almost don't care what the inside looks like. That climbing tree has won my heart.
Ben's not feeling all that great, although he was well enough for daycare. He's over his vomiting, but now he has a full-fledged cold. All he wanted to do this morning was lie on the floor and moan and whine and pound the ground with his hands. I understand. I do that myself when I'm not feeling well. Expressing my discomfort dramatically makes me feel better. Apparently, Ben has inherited that tendency, so although it's annoying and heart-breaking, I can't really fault him the dramatics.
Chester gave himself a concussion this morning. He took a shower by the early morning light, and when he exited the tub, he bent over (in the relative darkness) to open up the cabinet. He smashed his forehead. Hard. He's been kind of swimmy, dizzy and nauseated all day.
The Mortgage March keeps going forward. This afternoon we sign for the personal loan to settle my debt (since Chester's was apparently forgiven). So three weeks from now, I should have a pretty little paper in my hand that says my debt was satisfied in full.
We finally made contact with our realtor (Dennis) today. Chester thinks he might be kind of pushy. I said he sounded enthusiastic. This is just because he's already started looking for houses for us. He has a couple he wants us to see this weekend. Unfortunately, he's still going with the 70-75 price range that the mortgage lady gave him. Chester and I have only been looking up to 70.
We drove past the house on 1st Ave that we love this morning on the way to daycare, and I accidentally said, "Oh look. The bus stop is right in front of our house. How convenient." What can I say? That place has the best climbing tree I've ever seen in the backyard. I almost don't care what the inside looks like. That climbing tree has won my heart.
Ben's not feeling all that great, although he was well enough for daycare. He's over his vomiting, but now he has a full-fledged cold. All he wanted to do this morning was lie on the floor and moan and whine and pound the ground with his hands. I understand. I do that myself when I'm not feeling well. Expressing my discomfort dramatically makes me feel better. Apparently, Ben has inherited that tendency, so although it's annoying and heart-breaking, I can't really fault him the dramatics.
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