Since I decided to stop taking birth control, I realized two things that birth control had done for me. You know, besides that obvious not having babies thing.
1) Gloriously clear skin. I have never been prone to acne but in the past couple of months there has been many more little fellas pop up here and there.
2) Emotions were kept in better check.
I am the first to admit that I have always been more emotional and expressive than the typical person. There is no hiding a bad day for me. I cry at romance novels. I cry when I see my husband doing something sweet with my neices.
But friends? I believe I had forgotten that WOWZA my emotions are potent. Everyone knows that I have been stressed lately. Work is stressful and while I would like to say that 40 hours a week is all the time I spend at work, I also spend lovely nites at hotel rooms and what seems like days in cars and airplanes. When others finish their day and head home to have a dinner with their spouse, I find the nearest Subway and have my standard - wheat bread, turkey, jalepenos, lettuce, cucumbers, spinach, carrots, one squirt of light mayo and a shake or two of parmesean cheese. Apples, please. If I'm feeling crazy I get the Baked Lays instead.
On top of the ever present work saga is my husband still being undiagnosed. It has been a really tough time since February. A heart breaking time to see the very active husband I married laying on the couch with a headache that he has had for three weeks. One that Vicodin doesn't help. While I would do all the household chores in the world for him to feel better, I admit that 7 months of doing much of the housework myself blows.
I have applied for numerous jobs and he has been to numerous doctors. So we are trying. But on Saturday morning after going to the grocery store, mowing the yard and cleaning the house so that we could have friends over, I had a little emotional moment. And by little I mean, I placed myself on the floor of my closet, curled up with my sweet cat and cried. Actually, my cat is a bitch, but she loves me. And if I am being fully honest, I did a little more than cry. Perhaps sob is a better word. I just kept thinking, I need a break. A ray of sunshine in the form of a promising job opportunity amd an actual medical diagnosis and resolution to my husband's issues.
So I cried.
Then I rose up and hung up some of the clothes I had just cried on. Got in the shower, sobbed a little more, and went on with my day. Monday I applied for two more jobs and in a week and a half, we head to a major medical center in hopes of some answers.
Today, I'll job search some more and go home to check on my husband at lunch.
Tomorrow I'll do it again.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Until we meet again.
When I travel, I meet all kinds of people. I meet sweet people at the hotel in Columbia, Maryland who check me in at the hotel. I meet lovely alums in Harrisburg, PA who invite me to their tailgates, though I always think how awkward that would be. I meet people on airplanes who stick in my mind. There was a couple from NYC who owned a restaurant but moved last year to help out their daughter in South Carolina who was going through a divorce. They were on their way to Atlantic City to gamble and by the sounds of it, did that quite frequently. Their accents were all native New Yorker. I loved it.
In the late winter, I met a sweet man Wally who was returning to our town after a family trip to their beach house in Florida. He and I were on a late flight home on a Friday nite and we both felt like chatting I suppose. Wally and his wife have been married for over 50 years and in the recent past they had to put his wife in a nursing home. He told me that he missed her while he was in Florida even though she likely didn't realize he was gone. The tender things he said about his wife made my heart ache for him. Well dressed and very mild mannered, Wally was a grandfatherly figure that loved his ill wife.
After speaking for a while, we talked about where our homes are and it turns out that before his wife went into the nursing home, they lived in my part of our community. We chatted about how lovely that community it is and how, in general, our town really has a wonderful charm to it. Wally told me that he missed living there but still saw some of his former neighbors with regularity.
Today, I followed a SUV into our little post office to mail something for my husband. I griped under my breather about that SUV taking it's sweet time to pull into 1.5 parking spaces, while I zipped into the remainder of that parking spot. I grabbed my package and hurriedly made my way into the post office. I had to put a few labels and such on the package and I noticed that the old fart that had taken his and my share of the parking lot was in front of me. As I looked at his profile, I recognized him but could not place him. As the cashier rang him out, she said his name. Wally. Instantly, I knew who it was. I thought it likely that he did not remember me, so I went about my business. After I paid and walked out, I noticed Wally walking with a handful of mail, slowly shuffling along. He looked older than just a few months ago and I wondered about his wife. I wish I remembered her name.
Wally turned and smiled at me and instantly I thought I should say hello. How often do you meet a random stranger twice? I spoke to him for a few moments and asked about his wife. She is doing very well and he thanked me for remembering. After a bit of conversation, I told Wally that I had to get back to work but that it was lovely to see him and perhaps we would meet on a plane or at the post office again. Wally smiled and told me to enjoy the beautiful day.
As I drove back in my car, I kept thinking about why I met Wally. Why did I see him again? Was it to teach me patience when someone is taking their sweet time pulling into a parking spot because maybe it is someone else's Wally? I don't know, but seeing Wally made my day just a bit brighter.
And the couple from NYC? They taught me that I could plant garlic and while it is growing it looks like daffodils. But it takes a full year grow a bulb.
In the late winter, I met a sweet man Wally who was returning to our town after a family trip to their beach house in Florida. He and I were on a late flight home on a Friday nite and we both felt like chatting I suppose. Wally and his wife have been married for over 50 years and in the recent past they had to put his wife in a nursing home. He told me that he missed her while he was in Florida even though she likely didn't realize he was gone. The tender things he said about his wife made my heart ache for him. Well dressed and very mild mannered, Wally was a grandfatherly figure that loved his ill wife.
After speaking for a while, we talked about where our homes are and it turns out that before his wife went into the nursing home, they lived in my part of our community. We chatted about how lovely that community it is and how, in general, our town really has a wonderful charm to it. Wally told me that he missed living there but still saw some of his former neighbors with regularity.
Today, I followed a SUV into our little post office to mail something for my husband. I griped under my breather about that SUV taking it's sweet time to pull into 1.5 parking spaces, while I zipped into the remainder of that parking spot. I grabbed my package and hurriedly made my way into the post office. I had to put a few labels and such on the package and I noticed that the old fart that had taken his and my share of the parking lot was in front of me. As I looked at his profile, I recognized him but could not place him. As the cashier rang him out, she said his name. Wally. Instantly, I knew who it was. I thought it likely that he did not remember me, so I went about my business. After I paid and walked out, I noticed Wally walking with a handful of mail, slowly shuffling along. He looked older than just a few months ago and I wondered about his wife. I wish I remembered her name.
Wally turned and smiled at me and instantly I thought I should say hello. How often do you meet a random stranger twice? I spoke to him for a few moments and asked about his wife. She is doing very well and he thanked me for remembering. After a bit of conversation, I told Wally that I had to get back to work but that it was lovely to see him and perhaps we would meet on a plane or at the post office again. Wally smiled and told me to enjoy the beautiful day.
As I drove back in my car, I kept thinking about why I met Wally. Why did I see him again? Was it to teach me patience when someone is taking their sweet time pulling into a parking spot because maybe it is someone else's Wally? I don't know, but seeing Wally made my day just a bit brighter.
And the couple from NYC? They taught me that I could plant garlic and while it is growing it looks like daffodils. But it takes a full year grow a bulb.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Ring Finger
Random question.
For those of you that are married, which ring is closer to the knuckle? Engagement ring or wedding band?
Curious minds need to know.
For those of you that are married, which ring is closer to the knuckle? Engagement ring or wedding band?
Curious minds need to know.
Monday, August 10, 2009
We spoke
Have you ever had a moment that you just wanted to bottle up and save for later to remember in tough times? Maybe use it later when things were generally foul. Times you want to cuss, scream and kick? I had one of those moments two weeks ago and I have been saving it. Now I might go ahead and jinx myself and never have another one in my next 30 years (like Tim Mcgraw likes to say). But here it is.
My mother in law called me. And we talked. Without any false niceties. AND without any hatefulness spewed.
I know. Hold on to your britches. But in the past almost eleven years with my husband my mother in law and I have rarely if ever had a conversation without someone else in it. It kind of made me happy.
I see the relationship that people have with their inlaws. I see the way my sister and her mother in law interact. I saw my paternal grandmother and my mother work side by side growing up. I never thought much of it until it came to the realization that I didn't have that relationship. My husband is rather close to my father, they talk almost daily. But that is a different and unique relationship altogether. It has always been hard for me to accept that lack of relationship. By no means am I saying that we have became bosom buddies since that moment but it made me think that perhaps my MIL is beginning to accept me as her son's wife?
Maybe she realizes that I know him pretty darn well and if she really needs to know some things about his life that it would benefit us to include me.
Now realistically she called me because she couldn't get a hold of him and she was cleaning out a room in her home where she found a few things of his. In the past, I believe she would have never even called me and just waited for my husband to call her back. But she called me. And I talked to her. We talked about several things for almost an hour and while most of them involved my husband and nothing too deep by any means, we still talked. Really, he is our connection. And you know what, I know it made him happy to hear that we spoke.
So maybe, we can talk again.
My mother in law called me. And we talked. Without any false niceties. AND without any hatefulness spewed.
I know. Hold on to your britches. But in the past almost eleven years with my husband my mother in law and I have rarely if ever had a conversation without someone else in it. It kind of made me happy.
I see the relationship that people have with their inlaws. I see the way my sister and her mother in law interact. I saw my paternal grandmother and my mother work side by side growing up. I never thought much of it until it came to the realization that I didn't have that relationship. My husband is rather close to my father, they talk almost daily. But that is a different and unique relationship altogether. It has always been hard for me to accept that lack of relationship. By no means am I saying that we have became bosom buddies since that moment but it made me think that perhaps my MIL is beginning to accept me as her son's wife?
Maybe she realizes that I know him pretty darn well and if she really needs to know some things about his life that it would benefit us to include me.
Now realistically she called me because she couldn't get a hold of him and she was cleaning out a room in her home where she found a few things of his. In the past, I believe she would have never even called me and just waited for my husband to call her back. But she called me. And I talked to her. We talked about several things for almost an hour and while most of them involved my husband and nothing too deep by any means, we still talked. Really, he is our connection. And you know what, I know it made him happy to hear that we spoke.
So maybe, we can talk again.
Monday, August 3, 2009
how the garden grows...
Do you have any clue what this pretty flower is? 
If you said the flower of a zucchini or a yellow squash, you would be right.
If you said the flower of a zucchini or a yellow squash, you would be right. Remember how I told you that we were seeing the sprouts of peas and lettuce?
We're seeing a little more now. And there is the color we stained our deck, oh, over a month ago.
Do you also remember how I said we (actually meant my husband) were working on installing pavers and the such? And it looked like this?
Well, not any more.
The husband is AWESOME and decided to add the wall around the side and behind where our grill sits so that when we have people over and are all hanging around the grill, we can sit on the wall and chat. Dang, he is getting that PhD for a reason, people. Genius I tell you.
And the green mass of stuff behind that lovely wall? Our happy little garden. I am slightly nervous about the amount of cucumbers we are going to have in a few weeks. Pickles anyone?
Summer has been absolutely gorgeous here and my garden and flower beds are proving it.
Ahhh. I might just hop a squat in the hammock tonite too.
Summer, it's good.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
for the right reasons
Recently another blogger announced her breakup from her boyfriend. If I am remembering right, they have been together around a year or so. After she posted about the relationship ending, in a very rational way I might add, I commented that break ups blow, no matter what the reason. She replied back to me that they wanted different directions in their lives and that is what was the basic reason for their breakup. While I know breakups happen all the time and for so many reasons, but I can't stop thinking about how much strength she must have had to take on a very challenging decision.
At first, there is college. People starting pairing up with someone they met while in school. Then there is either Master's degrees or real jobs. More people pair up. More and more people get married. By the time you hit 25-28 most of your friends are married or in a long term relationship. There is that unspoken pressure to get married before 30. Hello- you went to college and met someone, right? You've been with them for a year or two, right? Why not get married?
Is this what it was like when my mom in 1975 got married at 18? Let me spell that out for you, EIGHTEEN. Hell, I can't imagine my ridiculously immature self getting married at 18. By my age, my mother had 3 kids under the age of 8. But that was normal. You met a guy in high school and then you got married. Now it just morphed into college or at one of your first couple of jobs. You're getting OLD. GET MARRIED. It's what society does.
Do we all get married for the right reasons? Likely at the time we think it is for the right reasons. Either that or we can't see the possibility of being alone.
My husband and I only had two real tests in our relationship. One for me. One for him. I think now that I am glad we had and made it through these tests but at the time it was utter hell. Mine was in the form of a close friend telling me that he had been in love with me. His was in the form of a "friend" asking him how he knew we were the one for each other when we knew no one else. I said that they were tests for each of us but really they were tests for both of us. When I questioned our relationship, I wondered how I knew we were suppose to be together. At the same time, he was left there floundering. When he questioned our relationship, I fell apart.
When we began approaching our wedding date, I felt a fear that I was getting married for the wrong reasons. That I was getting married because I was afraid of myself and that I wouldn't know what to do on my own. The fear settled once I thought about the fact that I had made it through a temptation and still loved my now husband. The fear settled when I realized that my husband filled my heart the way no one else ever had. The fear settled when I realized that I had been with him for 8 years because I loved him, not because I was too weak to stand on my own. He made me stronger and better and I did know we were suppose to be together. We both had so much to gain in marrying each other. Somehow we just found that someone when we were very young.
I have always admitted that I feel marriage is a societal created institution but that doesn't mean that I don't believe in the concept of marriage. I suppose I believe in marriage for the right reasons. I see friends that are my age and dating someone entirely mismatched for them yet still staying with the person since they fear being alone. I worry that those friends will end up in a marriage because it is what is expected after being together for a few years not because their heart tells them it is the right step.
So to my blogger friend that has an incredible strength, I wish her this - I wish you someone that joins you on your path. Someone that fills your heart.
At first, there is college. People starting pairing up with someone they met while in school. Then there is either Master's degrees or real jobs. More people pair up. More and more people get married. By the time you hit 25-28 most of your friends are married or in a long term relationship. There is that unspoken pressure to get married before 30. Hello- you went to college and met someone, right? You've been with them for a year or two, right? Why not get married?
Is this what it was like when my mom in 1975 got married at 18? Let me spell that out for you, EIGHTEEN. Hell, I can't imagine my ridiculously immature self getting married at 18. By my age, my mother had 3 kids under the age of 8. But that was normal. You met a guy in high school and then you got married. Now it just morphed into college or at one of your first couple of jobs. You're getting OLD. GET MARRIED. It's what society does.
Do we all get married for the right reasons? Likely at the time we think it is for the right reasons. Either that or we can't see the possibility of being alone.
My husband and I only had two real tests in our relationship. One for me. One for him. I think now that I am glad we had and made it through these tests but at the time it was utter hell. Mine was in the form of a close friend telling me that he had been in love with me. His was in the form of a "friend" asking him how he knew we were the one for each other when we knew no one else. I said that they were tests for each of us but really they were tests for both of us. When I questioned our relationship, I wondered how I knew we were suppose to be together. At the same time, he was left there floundering. When he questioned our relationship, I fell apart.
When we began approaching our wedding date, I felt a fear that I was getting married for the wrong reasons. That I was getting married because I was afraid of myself and that I wouldn't know what to do on my own. The fear settled once I thought about the fact that I had made it through a temptation and still loved my now husband. The fear settled when I realized that my husband filled my heart the way no one else ever had. The fear settled when I realized that I had been with him for 8 years because I loved him, not because I was too weak to stand on my own. He made me stronger and better and I did know we were suppose to be together. We both had so much to gain in marrying each other. Somehow we just found that someone when we were very young.
I have always admitted that I feel marriage is a societal created institution but that doesn't mean that I don't believe in the concept of marriage. I suppose I believe in marriage for the right reasons. I see friends that are my age and dating someone entirely mismatched for them yet still staying with the person since they fear being alone. I worry that those friends will end up in a marriage because it is what is expected after being together for a few years not because their heart tells them it is the right step.
So to my blogger friend that has an incredible strength, I wish her this - I wish you someone that joins you on your path. Someone that fills your heart.
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