Tag Archives: Marriage

Balancing Act

MB and I didn’t really make a big to-do about the fact that we were getting married. In fact, the only people who knew it was happening were family members, really close friends…and well…you guys. It was much like when I found out I was pregnant with Baby L. I didn’t really feel the need to advertise that I was doing this stuff…because, lets be for real, I have a blog and if you read it, then you know what is happening. If you don’t, then either I don’t want you to and haven’t given you the blog address or any inclination that it even exists. Or you just don’t care. Which, is totally your prerogative. And I am totally okay with it. But the main reason for not broadcasting to the whole world that we were getting married was really just because we have been living together for a long time, we have a kid already, and we didn’t really think much would change. And it hasn’t.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, our relationship has definitely changed. But not because of marriage. Because we have a baby. And when you have a baby, you can forget about anything else ever being as important as that. Because it really never is. And that’s okay too. But it is stressful.

MB and I were having a lot of inane arguments about nothing for a while after we moved in with his family, which I suspect weren’t really about nothing at all. I suspect they were probably about us being out of our element and trying to adjust to being new parents and living with other people and just trying to be normal. Because this shit is hard, you guys. I am definitely the kind of person who will let the little things build until the cap is left off of the toothpaste and it becomes just too much to bear and then I go batshit insane and can no longer contain myself. And then I start a fight about toothpaste. Because I, my friends, am a genius.

MB doesn’t let anything get to him. At least, he usually doesn’t. But there was this period where we just…were at each other. That, for me, coupled with having a baby and the stress of living with a screaming 5-year-old who doesn’t belong to me (so I can’t tie him up outside), was really getting to me. I think I started to feel that his lack of excitement about our marriage was because he didn’t want to do it at all. And then my head spun with thoughts that he was planning to leave me. Or that I was too fat now, after having the baby, and he was no longer attracted to me. Or OH MY GOD, what if there was someone else? Now, let me just point out a couple of things for those of you who may not have been regulars here, or who haven’t met me or MB.

1) I am a crazy person. I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder and it is untreated. And, in my head, everything has the potential to be catastrophic. In fact, in my head, most things WILL become catastrophic. But you know, the solution to that is to panic so much about everything that you almost don’t even notice the time passing and things turning out fine. My mind is a totally fun place to live.

2) MB is the most amazing, caring, loving, beautiful, kind…(I could go on)…person I have ever known. He is not superficial or disloyal or cruel and there is absolutely no way that he would do anything to give me reason to panic. (Although, you might now know that I don’t really NEED a reason to panic. So, there ya go.)

What it comes down to is this. Our relationship is changing. In large part due to the fact that we are trying to learn how to be a couple WITH A CHILD. This didn’t seem like it would be a difficult thing to do.I assumed that once Baby L was here, MB and I would be the same. Only busier. And probably sleepier. And we definitely are.  But the day to day routine has swallowed me. And because it swallowed me, I am exhausted, inattentive, and sometimes bitter (about my lack of interaction with the outside world). And this isn’t his fault. So, I work on trying not to take this frustration out on him. Because, after all, he is working every day to provide for our family. And he works damn hard.

I don’t want you to think, internet, that we are miserable. Because for the most part, our issues are resolving. But we are a work in progress. But let me ask you this:

How do YOU balance marriage and parenthood?

Poop and A Cleaver (Or the Lack Thereof)

Oh, internet, I was going to write you a delicious post about contipation. Not mine, Baby L’s. But then I just couldn’t think about it anymore. Because OH. MY. GOD. My head is going to explode.

There has been blood-curdling screaming. There have been prunes and Karo syrup and apple juice. And there has still been no poop. And somehow, I feel this is a reflection on my parenting ability. So, I can’t talk about it until it is over. Otherwise, I might just hurl myself from a tall building as punishment for sucking at helping my child to poop. (That might be the most ridiculous thing I have ever said. Right there.)

Other than the Constipation Marathon of 2012, MB and I have been talking about forgetting about this whole, living with family to try and save money thing, and getting a new place. I’ve said before that I never (EVER) wanted to live with family again (mine or anyone else’s) as I haven’t done so in 12 years and I didn’t really think that I would ever be able to do it with out severely injuring someone. And not because I don’t get along with people.  Well…okay, maybe some of that. But mainly because I like things the way I like things and living with other people, you can’t really have everything JUST SO.  And then you want to injure people. It just happens like that.

Barbara Billingsley in the pilot "It's a ...Roseanne Barr in "I Am Comic"Also, having a kid and being a married couple is hard enough and enough of an adjustment for anyone, but then throwing in three additional family members who all function on different schedules and don’t necessarily ever clean up after themselves or cook food (This is totally hypothetical, of course.) and sort of just…do whatever? That’s a little tough for someone like me who imagined being a little more June Cleaver-esque when I had a child. (Okay, maybe a June Cleaver/Roseanne combo pack. But totally June Cleaver when it counts. But sometimes I am a sarcastic bitch. And that’s okay.)

I have this plan mapped out in my head about what my family will look like when Baby L is older. And granted, Baby L has NO IDEA what the heck her family life is like now, or that she spends most of her time on my hip because someone in this house is always sick and forbidden (by me) to touch her (AT ALL). She doesn’t have any idea that her mommy cooks dinner for five people every night who never sit down together and eat as a family. She has no idea that her cousin throws tantrums about every 30 minutes and is then rewarded with candy when he finally stops freaking out. So, I know this won’t impact her. But it drives me BATSHIT CRAZY, you guys. And it totally ruins my beautiful, picturesque family fantasy.

I must reiterate that I have NO ill will towards any of the people that live in this house and recognize that they are as set in their ways as I am. But when you have to do all of this adjusting at once, you might just lose it a little. Just sayin.

All of this has even gotten to MB. And that’s where we are. Trying to weigh the options. Trying to decide if we could afford, on his income alone, to get an apartment right now or if I will have to go back to work to make it happen. OR if we follow our original plan and stick it out until April. In which case, we will just hope that I don’t really snap and start setting fires or something. Right now, we are just letting it ride. And I am learning a lot about patience. And that, I suppose, will prove valuable when Baby L gets older and starts acting like she will burst into flames if I don’t stop what I’m doing and PAY ATTENTION to her.

Wish us luck, internet.

Open Letter to Baby L at 5(ish) Months

Dear Lilah,

You are five months old already! (Okay, you are actually closer to six months old but things have been very busy around here and your mom is a slacker.)

You are growing like a total weed right now and have started to eat “solid” foods. I don’t know why these are called solid at all because they are really just mashed up things that used to be solid. But whatever. You like bananas! You love being out on the town with me and you love to be outside. In fact, sometimes, taking you outside is the only way to get you to stop fussing like a maniac. Because, dear Lilah, you are at a stage in your life where you are no longer content to lie down. Or be held. When I am holding you, you want to get down. When you are down, you want to sit up. When you are on your tummy, you want to GO. But you can’t really do these things on your own yet. So, you get super angry and frustrated and act like a psychopath. This usually happens when it is nap time.

Nap time is also interesting. When you were a tiny thing, you seemed to do nothing but eat and nap. You still love eating (as evidenced by your cheeks) but napping tends to be a little more difficult than before. You do it, but reluctantly. You tend to want me to lie down with you for a period of time beforehand, so that you can repeatedly slap me in the face or grab ahold of my bangs and pull like they are a life preserver and you are drowning. This behavior makes you very happy. I let you do it, but fear I may become bald soon.

During this past month, you took your first plane trip all the way across the country to Las Vegas, where you witnessed your father and I get married. You were so well behaved on the plane that strangers were commenting on what a wonderful baby you are. I was inclined to agree. You are sort of wonderful. Elvis walked me down the aisle at the wedding and sang songs to you and you were elated. Elvis said you are an angel. Again, I was inclined to agree. You toured the Las Vegas strip in your stroller and silently took in all the sights and voices of all the different people. We didn’t let you gamble though, because you have yet to get a job and earn your keep.  But I am sure that that will happen in time. Like, by the time you’re 3 or something.

You were also baptized, met my father and step-mom (your grandparents), your great-grandmother, and your great-aunt and uncle. You wore a frilly, white dress and you looked like you should have wings and a halo. You sing songs after you eat and when you are lying in your sleeper, waiting for me to pick you up. You got to spend a lot of time with your Aunt Fish Head and are slowly breaking her down and making her decide to have a baby of her own, because, yes, you are that awesome.

Last night, you and I watched the election coverage together. And we were elated to hear that President Barack Obama was re-elected. You did a little squeal of glee. (Actually, you squealed with glee for several hours while your father snored, both of you preventing me from sleep and forcing me to read all the hideousness people were posting on social networks regarding the election results. No bueno.) It was a big day for the United States. For the LBGT community. For women. And I am so glad to have been a part of it. And someday, when you’re older, I will tell you all about this day. But for now, I will just tell you that good things are happening. And I hope that, by the time you are old enough to read this, you will have the equality that we strive for now. But I won’t get all political on you now. You’re just a baby.

I am so glad that you are here and I cherish every day with you and I am so looking forward to all the progress that you will continue to make in life. I love you.

I LOVE YOU. (Just in case you didn’t get it the first time.)

Mom

 

Hitched

Las Vegas, Nevada

Fremont Street, the site of the ZIP!

Well, we did it, internet! We went to Las Vegas and got hitched! And yes, Elvis walked me down the aisle and sang to Baby L. And it was so effing awesome. Obviously, when you’re in Vegas, there is an Elvis on every corner and the odds of getting a good one are, well, kind of slim in my opinion. And I don’t think we got the best Elvis there was (I am pretty sure he used shoe polish to paint on some of his hair), but I didn’t even care about that. Because the wedding was exactly what I had hoped: Lighthearted. Fun. A good story to tell the grandkids .A good amount of cheesiness. It was definitely all of those things. We laughed our faces off and we left the chapel a legit married couple. And, really, what more could I ask for?

Baby L was an angel on the flights to and from Vegas. There were only a couple of points where she started to spaz a little. And who could be mad at that? I kind of felt like screaming my face off a couple of times, myself. Because, seriously, sitting in a tiny seat for 5 hours and not being able to move AT ALL makes my body hurt. (Thanks, Baby L, for destroying my hips and making it impossible for me to sit/stand/walk/lie down for any extended period of time.) And having strangers breathing on me, well, that isn’t really one of my favorite things either…

I wasn’t able to do a lot of things that I wanted to while I was in Vegas. Mainly because, the day that we got there, my throat started hurting like I had attempted to swallow sandpaper (gotta love germy, enclosed spaces!). I spent a lot of time with my mom, sister, and Baby L in the condo while MB and his brother and sister explored the strip. Which didn’t really bother me, because I had already seen it and they hadn’t. But I did a little gambling, I ate a little deliciousness, I walked a whole lot in and around beautiful, ornate hotels, and I visited the top of the Eiffel Tower. Oh, and I fucking ziplined! (I can’t believe I almost forgot that!) I felt pretty accomplished, being that I am not usually one to try flying through the air, attached to a wire, but I figured that I had to do it. After all, MB’s brother and sister bungee jumped off of the Stratosphere. And comparatively, I still suck.

Here are a few highlights:

1. MB’s brother started out as his normal self: A douche canoe. But eventually joined the land of the un-douchey and we ended up not killing each other, and, on the contrary are right back on track. (I’ve known him about ten years longer than I have known MB and we were friends quite a long time before the douchiness started. But I suppose that depends on who you ask. I have some friends who might say I was just blind to it all those years. Until we knew we were going to be family.) This was really a relief. Because the last thing that I wanted was for MB to feel like he couldn’t spend time with his wife and brother at the same time. That is just stupid. I think he was less inclined to be douchey because his ridiculous girlfriend wasn’t there. She tends to bring out the worst in everyone.

2. Baby L saw the Las Vegas strip! She was totally in awe of everything and she was just amazing (until she got tired and we were sitting in a burger place inside the Paris hotel and she started screaming her face off. But, Daddy has the magic touch.) Granted, she won’t remember this. But she will have a picture with Elvis to commemorate. MB and I might be really embarrassing parents.

3. Speaking of Daddy’s magic touch: MB somehow contracted MRSA while we were gone and cannot touch ANYTHING or ANYONE until otherwise advised by a doctor. I am not going to get into how skeeved out the idea of MRSA is to me. And I’m not going to admit to how many loads of laundry I have done in the past 48 hours. But I will tell you, having baby duty 24 hours a day without even so much as someone to HOLD her, on top of being sick myself? NO FUN. I’m hoping that MB’s nastiness clears up soon so that I can get a little help. But also, you know, so he doesn’t die.

4. My mom is obsessed with El Pollo Loco and I am pretty sure that the only reason she goes to Las Vegas is to eat chicken. Fast food chicken.

5. MB bought a guitar to fill with alcohol and carry around the strip. I obviously was not present when this was purchased. But mission accomplished. HAMMERED MB.

6. My sister, MB and I stumbled into a bar at three in the morning one night, where we may have been the only tourists. It was totally creepy. And a weird bunch of people bought us shots. We were fairly certain that, if we didn’t leave immediately, we would wake up in a meth den or something. We escaped. Then we ate Fat Burgers.

7. My hair stayed curly for several days in Las Vegas. I was fairly certain it would be as it is in Florida, and curl beautifully, stay for 13.5 minutes and then, before you can blink, return to stick straight. I told the hairdresser that if my hair stayed, I would move to Las Vegas. And two days later, I was almost in tears because I had to finally wash it.

8. My good friend Ricky was able to make the trip from San Diego and hang out with us during and after the wedding. I had a GREAT time with him and was SO glad that at least ONE of my friends could make the trip!

9. MB has the travel bug now. He’s already trying to plan our next getaway. This time, it will most likely NOT involve that amount of alcohol. Any siblings. Or a fillable guitar.

10. Thanks to all of YOU for the congratulations! I’m so happy to be home and so happy to have officially married my best friend!

That was the longest/shortest vacation of my life. And the only souvenirs I returned with are an empty Eiffel Tower which used to hold frozen drink deliciousness and a defective husband! Okay, maybe not defective. But definitely diseased. Gross.

Related articles

20121021-134412.jpg

Airplane Panic

Diaper Change in the Sky

Diaper Change in the Sky (Photo credit: andycarvin)

In less than a week, MB, Baby L and I will be taking our first vacation as a family. Am I super excited? Hell yes. Am I freaking out a little? Hell YES.

This might come as a shock to you, given how much I loved kids before I had one, but I have never traveled with an infant before. Before I had Baby L, I’d never even driven with one in my car. And the anxiety I had about that alone was astonishing. Now I get to bring my tiny person to the airport and through security and on an airplane. And OH MY GOD, the anxiety. As competent as I feel now as a mom, I just know that I will forget something important. Like, formula. I will be so concerned about remembering my toothbrush that I will forget that this little lady has to eat.

Not to mention the three hour time difference. Baby L is going to be asleep by 7 pm and wide awake and ready to play at 4 in the morning. Because it seems that, even though all of the adults will be running around like crazy people, it would be right to let her keep Florida time so that when we get home, she isn’t all messed up with the sleep thing. Because we all know how important sleep is to mommies.

I feel sort of insane with all the lists I have floating around the house and in my head. Lists of things to do before we leave. Lists of things to pack for Baby L. Lists of regular, every day things that I am most likely to forget. Lists of reasons to be nice to MB’s brother while we’re there, even though I want to punch him in his nether-region. Lists of restaurants in Las Vegas that don’t allow smoking. LIST after LIST after LIST, internet.

I feel like my mom.

For those of you who have traveled with your little ones, any words of wisdom?

Related articles

Serenity (Felicity) Now

Now that my internet is working and I have a brand new computer which actually, you know, DOES STUFF, I feel like I am SUPERWOMAN, you guys. I can read blogs and catch up on the news and do really inane things like play games on Facebook. Which hasn’t happened in, like, forever. Also, and I am sort of ashamed of this, but I am watching reruns of “Felicity” on Netflix. Because reruns of “Felicity” make me calm. Because I don’t really care what happens because I’ve seen them all. And while sometimes I feel like Felicity should have been punched more, she generally is just so boring it makes all the diapers and teething seem a little bit less like work. And I used to have a huge crush on Scott Foley. Not Speedman. Because he was the obvious one to have a crush on.

Why are we talking about “Felicity”? Because, internet, I need to be calm. I need five minutes to think about nothing and revel in how boring she is.  Because in real life, I have to get my HERRRR DID for the wedding. And meet with a pastor about Baby L’s baptism. And get a pedicure. And find some shoes for the wedding. And find something borrowed. And decide whether we are having a dinner after the baptism or a small dinner reception. Or both. And where these things will take place. And OH. MY. GOD. I just need someone to do all of this for me. Because even though I finally have the internet back. And my car is fixed and sitting in the driveway. I feel like there is so much to do. And all “Felicity” has to do is obsess about boys and deal with that bitch Elana.

The Haps…

Oh, internet, how I have missed you. Turns out, I needed a new modem. Which, of course, takes, like a bizzillion years to get. And then, you know, because I have all this money, I had to buy a new computer because mine was DONE with it all. And then my car wouldn’t start. So then I bought myself a new fuel pump too! Because I’m getting married and going on vacation in less than two weeks and don’t have ENOUGH to stress about.

So, there it is. That’s how I’ve been doing. How are YOU, internet?

It is looking like MB and I will not be having a reception when we return from Las Vegas. Not because we don’t want to celebrate with everyone, or anything, but because without the internet or a car during the day for a really long time, it is pretty difficult to scope out venues and find catering. And, even though my dad AND uncle are chefs and will be here for the festivities, I just don’t feel that making them cater would be very cool of me. You know, because they might want to celebrate too. And by celebrate, I mean drink a lot of beer. Since my dad is coming from out of the country, I really only have one weekend that I can have a party that he can attend. Which happens to be the weekend that Baby L will be baptized. I have to pile it all in there in two days and I just can’t figure out how to do it. So…it looks like we might just have to have a casual party later on down the road. One that won’t involve me pulling all of my hair out. And one, without my dad. Which sort of sucks.

I AM, getting super excited about the wedding. Well, not specifically the wedding, but the fun that we are about to have in Vegas. It has been SO long since I have been there…or had any kind of vacation, that I almost feel like something is going to happen and I won’t be able to go. Or someone is going to ruin it. (Which, if it were to happen, would be MB’s idiot brother who is coming to Vegas and, unfortunately staying in our timeshare with my family…Fuuuuuuuck.) But, I have already alerted everyone who will be there, that if he gets all stupid on me, I will a) kick him out of the condo and/or b) chop certain parts of his anatomy off and shove them into his face holes. The end.

I’m about to be a mom AND a wife. Holy shit, you guys, HOLY SHIT.

 

Related articles

Boobs…and Other Stuff

I’m happy to announce that our Vegas Elvis wedding has been booked for October 16th! I still can’t believe how much has happened to me over the last twelve months. Last September, I found out I was pregnant, then in November, I was fired for being pregnant, then I got engaged in January, had a baby in May, moved in with family in July and now I’m getting hitched. Sheesh. What a long, strange trip its been…

I still haven’t found a dress for the wedding. And yes, I am aware that I am cutting it super close here, but I am having trouble finding anything I like due to this post-baby body. I am basically the same size as I was (everywhere except the boobage) but things are distributed differently. And it is weird. And it makes dress shopping nearly impossible. Also, and I think I have mentioned this before, my knockers are enormous. And I’m finding that, because of this, I’m having to find even BIGGER dresses than before and then I just look…well…frumpy. So…there it is. My boobs have taken over my life.

I have to say, I’m really not even concerned with being all fancy and perfect on our day, because, let’s face it, we’re getting married in Las Vegas and we are totally not trying to impress anyone. I just want to look put together and happy. And if my boobs cooperate, looking happy won’t be a problem for me.

I have to say, I am super excited about this vacation. The wedding will be awesome, but the vacation is going to be stellar. One of my cousins (who I am not super close with) is getting married on the same day in Las Vegas. And it is super awesome, because it means that some of my family will be there. They won’t be coming to OUR wedding, but they will be hopping all around the city for the whole week. So, I’m looking forward to all of that debauchery.

It has definitely been hard to adjust to living with a five-year-old and two more adults. MB’s family really is great, but living with them can be a little hard for me. Mainly because  a) I don’t like noise, b) I hate dirty dishes, and c) sometimes I’m not wearing pants. Living with a little kid who isn’t yours and is sort of…well…disobedient and hyper as hell…I think would be hard for anyone. But then there’s me. And I’m a little OCD and have some pretty strong opinions on parenting. Or at least, how one should NOT parent. So, it is everything I can do just to keep my mouth shut sometimes. Kids are noisy. Disobedient kids are noisy and irritating.

And the dirty dishes. Holy crap, the dirty dishes. I can’t even talk about them. It hurts my little anal retentive heart.

The worst part though, is probably the privacy issue. It isn’t like anyone just barges into our room at all hours or anything. And the kid has, for the most part, gotten the message that our room is basically OFF LIMITS. But MB’s sister definitely did get a nice view of my ass the other day and MB’s mom definitely went through my closet yesterday to borrow shoes from me. This is absolutely NOT COOL if you are me, by the way. And I did have to say something this morning to her, even though I really didn’t want to step on any toes (but I guess since she was wearing MY shoes, it was all good), but I needed her to understand that I’m not a fan of people (ANYONE) rifling through my things when I’m not home. Or if I am home. Or…you know…just ever. I had all night last night to calm down to prevent flying off the handle about it, so I think that, by the time I finally got to talk to her, I was over it enough that I didn’t sound like a crazy person.  But man…that’s exactly the stuff that makes me hate living with people.

But I’m still grateful to be here. And I love every one of them to pieces. I just hope they’re prepared, if they don’t stop invading my privacy, to see a whole lot more than they bargained for.

Because, for real. Sometimes, I’m not wearing pants.

Viva Las Vegas

So, as I mentioned before, (very vaguely, and in passing) MB and I are heading out to Las Vegas and gettin’ hitched, y’all!

I am not one for traditional weddings. Not that they aren’t beautiful and touching and all that stuff…they are. And I respect people who want it to be all touching and stuff. But (and maybe you can tell this from this blog), I’m not really always all that serious. And sure, a marriage is serious business…but I don’t really think (and never have thought) that the wedding itself had to be so. So, I’ve always joked about having Elvis marry me (and whoever the lucky guy was to be) in Vegas. Despite the fact that I loathe Elvis. Because, well, I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t appreciate that story. Or being present to witness it. And if you’re anything like me, you might appreciate THAT more than getting dressed up to sit in a church. Or, a garden. Or whatever. (And, again, I’m not saying there’s anything WRONG with a church or a garden, but I’m not so much a church or garden kinda gal.) I thought it would be a neat story to tell the grandkids.

My grandparents have a timeshare condo in Las Vegas that they aren’t planning to use this year. And when my mom called and said, “Hey! Do you guys wanna get married in October? The timeshare is gonna be free!” I couldn’t say no. I mean, come ON, you guys. So, plans will be finalized this weekend. And I am super excited for so many reasons. 1. MB has never been to Vegas and he’s going to be awestruck 2. we haven’t taken a vacation since my 4th month of pregnancy and it was…lackluster… and 3. I get to marry my best friend. And Elvis will be there! And the pictures will be hilarious.

So, originally, a friend and her fiance were planning on coming and getting hitched at the same time (which was a super awesome plan too because, the more the merrier) and we were planning to wear 80’s prom attire. (I never went to prom. And I definitely never went to prom in the 80’s!) But that whole plan has fallen through. So now I’m trying to decide what I should wear. I don’t really like all that frilly white stuff (because I don’t want to look like a decorated cake) but I DO like vintage dresses (50’s and 60’s) and am a curvy, busty lady (moreso now than ever) so my question to you, dear readers, is: Do you know of any place I can find an affordable vintage style dress that does not make me look like a cake or cost an arm and a leg? (I’m still a stay-at-home-mom, remember.) It really doesn’t even have to be a wedding dress. Or white, for that matter. But I am looking for something ADORABLE. Any suggestions for the bride-to-be?