Life is good today

Well here we are kids.  Another year down, another one to go.  Me, I'm glad to have made it through the holidays and I'm anxious to get back to real life.  Don't get me wrong, the holidays were wonderful and Christmas Day with Sofia was pretty much the best day of the year.  But, I'm just ready to get back into the regular swing of everyday life.  So, bring on 2013!

However, we have to wrap up some loose ends so we go into the New Year so fresh and so clean clean.  Yeah I know, it sounded better in my head.  Nevertheless...

Drew's work dinner.  I ran out of time to go shopping.  I found so many cute things online but before I knew it, there was no time for shipping, so I had to make do with what I had in my closet.

PS, I detest taking pictures of myself, which is why I cropped out the ridiculous expression on my face.  It's all about the outfit anyway.  From what I understand, peplums are very now and the flowy-ness was very forgiving of my squishy midsection.

I felt very special with my fun jewelry and I even had a good hair and makeup day.

You'll have to trust me on that one because truly, I looked constipated in this picture.

I wore my pointy heels, even though it was 

freezing outside.  It was totally worth it because 

I felt a little like the old me.  

We had lots of fun, Sofia did great with the babysitter, AND I met a girl!  I knew we were going to be friends the minute I saw her sequined top and black leather jacket.  Finally, someone in Reading with some fashion sense!  PLUS, she's from Mexico so I got to spend the whole night speaking Spanish, which was pretty much the most fun thing ever.  

Me, as a mother.  So, I had this whole post written out about how I was turning over a new leaf as a mom.  But that was the day of the Newtown shootings and it just didn't feel right.  Plus, I tried to edit it from my phone and the whole post got deleted so the five people that saw it, go do something else right now because you already know what I'm going to say.

Anyway, in a nutshell, I'm going to calm the F down when it comes to being a mom.  My kid is amazing and awesome and it's due in large part to me.  I need to say that more often and I need to believe it because it's true.  So what her school isn't teaching her advanced calculus.  That's okay, because she *is* learning.  As you fine readers pointed out, she's learning to interact with other children.  She's learning to be okay without me.  Just because her teachers do her crafts for her, it's not going to ruin her life, and neither will a little tv.  They don't watch tv every day, she doesn't watch it a lot at home and it's not like when she does it's Law and Order SVU or something like that.  And those four hours a week that I get all to myself are way too sacred to just toss them aside.  There is plenty of time for her to learn and I just need to settle down.

But that's what happens when it's just you and the internet day in and day out.  All I see are the images of the perfect moms with their perfect kids who love every craft and activity their perfect moms set out for them, and I got caught up in subconsciously trying to be that mom.  I have actually sat Sofia down in front of an activity and said, "Pinterest says you'll love this!"

Yes, I've done that.  I need an intervention - preferably with wine.  Isn't that how interventions go?

But no more.  If she doesn't like something, I'm no longer going to take it personally.  I'll let it go and maybe try it again in a few weeks.  Or not.  Either way, I'm going to brush my shoulders off and keep it movin'.  Like a boss.

Or a thug.  Your choice.

PS, when I found this picture it pretty much made my life.

The canvas of failure.  Remember when I was totally defeated that Sofia didn't like to fingerpaint?  You know, like three posts ago?  I can't remember and I'm trying to finish typing before Sofia wakes up.  Anyway, once again you fine readers talked me off the ledge and I thank you so much for that.  One of you was like, hey, no big.  So what she doesn't like fingerpaints?  Give her a paintbrush and try again with that.

Y'all are geniuses - seriously.  And that's exactly what I did.  I put a paintbrush in her hand and we tried again and it was brilliant.

After dinner one night, we got to painting.

Drew and I helped with filling in some of the spots, so even though

this is an original by Sofia, it's also a bit of a family affair.

When it came time to put the words on the canvas, it was a no-brainer.  Drew loves his country music and Zac Brown Band is one his favorites.  I have to admit, some of the songs have grown on me and I don't complain as much when we have Zac Brown on Pandora.  Anyway, one of his favorite songs is Toes, which isn't the best name for a country song but what are you gonna do.  In the chorus it says "Life is good today" and that really resonated with me.  It's a good mantra and good sentiment, and an all around good way to look at things.  I'm thinking that's going to be my mantra for 2013.  So that's what went on our canvas.

Down the line, I may do some sort of outline so the letters stand out more,

but for now I'm celebrating the successes.

We did a craft as a family!

And last but not least, today is Drew's birthday.  I'm the lame-o broke-ass housewife and I didn't get him anything and I feel terrible about it.  I should have hand-stitched a quilt for him or something like that, but let's face it, I'm not that kind of girl.  Mostly because it would take me an entire year to sew even one square.  However, Drew is an amazing husband and didn't give me a hard time about it.  Getting him a great birthday present for the next birthday is my number one resolution.  Actually, not procrastinating is my number one resolution but if I don't procrastinate I can plan and make his birthday great because I really do feel bad, because Drew makes my life good every day.  Go on, vomit if you must but it's true.  My husband is the best.

With that, I'm outta here.  I'm going to do my best to make the rest of this day special for my awesome husband.

Happy New Year everyone!   

Don't drink the water

So, everybody and they mama seems to be pregnant these days and it got me thinking about the state of my uterus.  Namely, how it is blissfully unoccupied and how I rather like it that way.

I sure am glad you're on the outside, little girl.

When I was pregnant, at least once a day I got asked The General Question:  How are you feeling?  It's what people ask to be polite but they don't really want to/care to get in your business.  When the baby was born, it was "How is she sleeping/Is she sleeping through the night yet?"

Now that we've passed the one year mark, I'm starting to get the third General Question, or variation thereof:  "When do you think you'll have another one?  Are you thinking about another one?  Have you guys thought about adding to your family?  When is Sofia getting a little brother or sister?"

I don't get offended because I know it's just what people ask.  Sometimes I give the head-tile half-smile and say "We'll see," in that non-committal way.  But if it's coming from someone who's anything more than a casual acquaintance, I'm much more expressive.

Oh HAY-ull NO!

When Sofia was about three months old, I wrapped her up in the Moby and Drew and I went to the farmer's market.  We were eating lunch and somehow the topic of getting pregnant again came up.  I looked him dead in his eye and very slowly and clearly said, "Do you understand, I would cry if I got pregnant again right now.  Do you hear me?  CRY."


I still feel that way but for different reasons.  I'm still on my own during the week.  For the most part, Drew leaves on Sunday mornings and comes home Thursday evenings.  He works Friday during the day, does yardwork on Saturdays and we usually have a showing or two so we can't lounge around the house. I do laundry so he can pack Saturday night and he's gone again on Sunday.  Friday nights are the only free nights we have as a family, but we're both usually so exhausted from our lives that it's not quality time.  And it sucks.  I Could. Not. Imagine being pregnant right now.  AND taking care of a toddler whose new favorite game is making messes?  The other day, she dumped out an entire ziploc bag of dried rosemary on the kitchen floor while I was in the bathroom.

She's also intent on learning to use a spoon.

If I try and feed her, she screams in protest and insists on trying to do it herself.

She's not quiiiiite there yet.

If I were pregnant on top of that?  Yeah, I would cry.


Plus, I feel like I'm starting to get a tiny piece of my life back.  I have the energy to put on makeup more often.  I wear jewelry again.  Sofia's starting to become interested in other things besides me and my boobs, so I can put her on the floor in the living room and she'll actually play by herself for a little while.


She's going to start a Mother's Day Out program in June and I'm going to get one day a week all to myself!  I'm terrified to leave her, but it's right around the corner from the house and if she wigs out, I can be there in less than five minutes.  But if she doesn't wig out, I will be gloriously free from 9a-3p every Wednesday!  I am positively giddy at the prospect. I may just lay on the sofa all day.  I can take a shower in the morning again!  And it won't have to be two minutes long with her banging on the shower door, crying!  I can go to the mall and try clothes on!  The possibilities are endless!


I started thinking about all these things when I read about yet another pregnancy announcement, some of them having their second child.  I felt compelled to write when I read about a blogger's very tongue in cheek (I hope) guide to getting your husband to agree to another baby in 30 days or less.


If Drew did that to me, I would be livid.  If I liked the state of my unoccupied uterus, I would expect him to respect that and not badger me to get knocked up again.  If I continually said no and he didn't listen to me, I would quickly start to resent him and wonder if he no longer saw me as a person, or if I was just a carrier of his progeny.  And if I were a guy and my wife ignored what I was saying and was just trying to milk me of my man juice, I'd be straight-up pissed.  


Having babies isn't a game, and women who poke holes in condoms or don't properly take their birth control or worse, lie about their birth control give women a bad name.  Those who would resort to any other kind of underhanded manipulation to get a baby are just as bad.  You're sending a message that your husband's desires aren't as important as your own and we women are quick to get up in arms when the shoe is on the other foot.     

I do NOT get into politics here.

This is just an illustration of how vehement we can get about

our bodies, and rightfully so.

Don't men get to have the same say over theirs?

image courtesy

I don't know if I'll have more kids.  For one thing, I have no clue if I'm even ovulating.  Sofia's still nursing pretty regularly and the thing that happens every 28 days hasn't happened to me yet.  If I say the word, it will surely come and I'm enjoying my low-maintenance vagina, thank you very much.  I know you can ovulate without a cycle, but then you also need man juice for a pregnancy and that's a mite difficult given our present geographical constraints.  


I already told Drew that we will not even think of having the baby discussion until we're in the same city for a good amount of time, like at least six months, maybe longer.  I learned my lesson with the dog.  After incessant badgering, I caved and agreed under duress to get a dog, but only if we had a house.  No lie, Drew bought a house like two months later and we had a dog eight days after we moved in.  And you KNOW how I feel about that dog.  That shit will NOT happen again.  So there will be no baby until *I'm* good and ready, not a second before and he BET NOT try anything funny.


I realize my whole tone may come across bitchy and judgmental.  But there are few things I feel very strongly about and babies are one of them.  NO ONE, man or woman, should be badgered to have kids.  We should all have our wishes respected and if your spouse says no, it's your job to respect that, no matter how much you don't like it.  


I absolutely expect my husband to respect my wishes, so why wouldn't I respect his?


Okay, I'm off my soapbox now and of course, now that I've put my opinion out there, expect my pregnancy announcement to come any day now.

Family staycation

I have amazing blog friends and I have a post coming up about how amazing they are, but I need a certain little baby to cooperate so I can take pictures.  I'm going to try and hopefully be able to write tomorrow.


For the holiday weekend, we had a staycation at a hotel not too far from home.  Drew needed the credit, they had a nice pool and it was a fun little getaway.  Our room was so dark Sofia slept nearly 12 hours!  It was wonderful!

Chilling on the Heavenly Bed

Down at the pool, sleeping through all the noise

Staying in the shade - I was so paranoid about her overheating!

I didn't want her to get in the water because of the chlorine and her sensitive skin but on the second day I finally relented and let Drew take her in just to get her feet wet.  She was NOT having it.

I think the water may have been too cold for her.

One more shot and it's back to the shade for her!

It's much more fun in the shade!

I could eat that fat little baby arm! Is that weird?

We had a fun couple of days at the pool, and we also had our first new parent hiccup.  I'm talking about Dinnerus Interruptus.  You know, where you go to a nice restaurant because the baby's asleep and just as the entree arrives, she wakes up and starts wailing?  Every new parent has experienced that I'm sure, and Saturday night was our turn.

It was hardest on Drew because food is his thing.  Do not mess with the man's food or his dining experience.  He's all about the savoring, the food pairing, the wine, the evening.

The baby does not share his love of the experience.

She woke up and was mildly fussy.  I don't mind nursing in public but for whatever reason this time it didn't occur to me to pop a boob in her mouth.  Drew had already finished his meal and he took her while I tried to eat my meal before it got cold. It wasn't until he was gone for a good twenty minutes that I finally looked at my phone and duh, realized she needed to eat.  However, he was nowhere to be found, the waiter couldn't find him and I figured he'd gone outside with her.  Luckily, he'd finished his dinner but there was still wine left in his glass (the horror!) when I flagged down our waiter to pay and get out of there because I guessed that she hadn't calmed down and he didn't want to carry a crying baby through the dining room.

I found him outside, sweating, the baby crying and he looked like he was going to fall apart.  I felt so bad for him because I know it really rattles him when she cries.  He doesn't like feeling helpless and he especially doesn't like drawing attention to himself and nothing will accomplish both in the blink of an eye like a crying baby.  We were in the restaurant for less than an hour and we sped back to the hotel, where of course the baby calmed down instantly.  Isn't that how it always goes?

I could tell he was mad because of all the muttering.  Still had wine in my glass...  ...a waste of money.... didn't even get to finish your meal...

Luckily, I was in a good headspace because it could have easily turned into a fight when, in his desperation he turned on me.  You're supposed to know when she needs to eat!  You know this stuff, I don't!  Why didn't you come find me earlier?  I didn't have my phone because you want me to unplug (so it's all your fault the baby freaked out and I didn't get to enjoy my wine Desiree.)  Luckily, I know that's what he does when he's upset - he looks for other people to blame.  Luckily, I know most guys do that.  Because otherwise, he would have gotten an earful from me about how we're both new at this and it's not wise to turn on your teammate, lest you get a boot in the eye.

It's all good though - we were able to talk about what happened without it turning into a fight and the next day was great.  We even did some shopping and the baby slept for over three hours!  Isn't that how it always goes!  And we know for next time.  Sofia eats first, always and whenever she feels like it.  I honestly don't know why it didn't occur to me to see if she would eat - oh yeah, probably because I've been doing this for less than two months and I don't have it all figured out yet.  

However, the only thing you can do is roll with it and learn not to take yourself or these situations too seriously.  It helps to have a cute baby too.

Memorial Day from Desiree on Vimeo.

So, my mom readers - help us out.  Tell me your best dinnerus interruptus story.  Or shoppingus interruptus, or churchus interruptus.  When and how did your baby let you know that they run this?

Not bad for a middle-ager

I took the day off from work yesterday because it was my birthday and I don't work on my birthday.  When I was a flight attendant, birthdays were counted as holidays and you didn't have to work.  If you chose to, you got paid double?  Time and a half?  I don't know, some union thing.  We got paid for everything when I was a flight attendant - I LOVE unions.


Anyway, the not-working-on-my-birthday stuck and now I try to take the day off whenever I can.  I had such grand plans - I was going to take a yoga class (but not sweat my brains out because, helloo, preggo!), paint the bookcase thingies for the baby's room, spend time with Drew and take a 'me' day.  None of that happened and that's all right by me.


In case you haven't noticed, I've been under a serious case of the pregnancy sads.  I've tried to dilute it here because who really wants to visit your blog and it's all Sylvia Plath and woe and emo and stupid dumbness?  Not this guy, that's for sure!  But as much as I wanted to shake it, I couldn't so I gave up and just gave into the sads, only because I knew it was temporary and the whole 'this too shall pass' stuff.


I was chatting with Kesha on Gmail the day before my birthday telling her all about my sads (bless her soul for listening to my drivel) and she asked me about my birthday plans, to which I responded all teenage-emo-like and said 'Nothing.  I don't even feel like it.  I'm probably just going to lay in bed and do nothing all day.'  Thankfully, she talked me off the ledge and encouraged me to go ahead and go out to dinner with Drew, as he told me a week prior that he made dinner reservations.


Double thankfully, yesterday I magically woke up feeling better.  Not because it was my birthday, well not just because it was my birthday, but the hormone beasts had decided to give me a frickin break already.  I hate the sads.


My parents called me early in the morning and I answered the phone, so this time there were no voicemail messages but it was still sweet to hear from them.  They also sent me cards that arrived on my birthday which is something I'm always in awe of.  No matter how hard I try, I canNOT get birthday presents/cards sent in time.  I can put reminders in bold sparkly letters on my calendar, my phone, my hands and face and I still will get presents to you weeks late.  I don't know what it is - it takes an act of God for me to get birthday presents delivered on time, so I'm especially appreciative of people who do and always forgiving of people who can't.  I get it, dude, I get it.


After my calls from my parents, Drew gave me the prettiest card that made me smile and forgive him for not reading my hormone-addled mind and making me cry because he doesn't know exactly what to say and precisely when to say it.  All is forgiven babe, I love you again.


Then I went to the bathroom for the first of my 12,000 daily trips and there was another card from him to me sitting on the toilet.  Well, the back of the toilet.  Maybe he wanted to make sure I wouldn't miss it?  Well done, babe!  I was confused at first, but these days the toilet is where you should leave stuff if you want to be sure I'll find it.

I moved them to my nightstand because 
although the toilet is a great spot to find things, 

you shouldn't leave them there.  You should probably write that down.

It was already shaping up to be a good day - I felt better and went ahead and decided to abandon my plan of staying in bed all day.  Drew took me to breakfast but he did need to work because my birthday is not yet a national holiday so we had to head out right then so he could get back and get some work done.

Yes, this is what I slept in.

Yes, those are stains on my shirt from dinner the night before - I put Shout on them!

They just didn't come out.

Yes, I went out in public like this.

Yes to all of it - it was my birthday.

He thinks he looked so much better just 'cause he's wearing

his fancy sunglasses.  He does not have a cap with a fancy 

school on it.  I win.

I kept asking him if I looked like I was 35.  After a long pause, he simply answered "You look homeless."  That's all right, it's my birthday.  I can look any way I want.  Is it bad that no one batted an eye when we walked in to the diner?  And we weren't the worst-looking ones in there?  

I was feeling like French toast but interestingly, the baby most definitely was not.  Either that, or she got super excited over all the sugar.  She definitely has patterns and doesn't get active until later in the morning and she was probably jolted awake at 8am, feeling like she was main-lining powdered sugar and syrup.  Whatever it was, I was only about 2/3 done with my meal and I started having contractions!  Yeah fine, Braxton-Hicks but they were serious!  I was apologizing for coking her up with sugar, promising never to disturb her sleep like that again if she would just calm down with all the tightening of the stomach and the stabby pains and things.  No dice.  We had to leave super-quick and go straight home where I promptly got back in bed, hoping that I didn't cause permanent damage.  No more French toast for me!  And from now on, no sugar for breakfast!  My poor kid, she was probably like WHOA!  I was sleeping here!  WTF Mom!  And then I would ground her because ladies don't use language like that.  

The contractions eventually stopped and I felt safe enough to get back out of bed and take a shower, still apologizing for disturbing Her Majesty's slumber.

Now, here's where you get excited about my day.  I met with our pediatrician!!  Fun stuff!  Then I went to the hardware store!!  Then I got my brows waxed!!  Prime birthday activities, I tell ya!  I know you're jealous.

But then, the real fun of the evening came.

Drew threw me a surprise birthday party!

Isn't he the sweetest!  Again babe, all is forgiven.  

Unbeknownst to me, my hubby snuck around and contacted a big bunch of our friends and asked them to come out for my birthday!  I was completely surprised and it was a great evening!  And I didn't wear my pajamas.

You know the drill - the picture's blurry, I don't know how to work

my camera, apologies apologies.

Granted, this was when we came home but I wanted photographic evidence of 

me in 3 inch heels at 8.5 months pregnant.

Also, my stomach is huge and my dog is licking herself.  
Yeah, that about covers it.

Slightly cheesy smile, but at least the dog's grossness is cropped out.

I was on the phone with Kesha as I was getting ready to leave.

To come see her at the restaurant.

She's a scary good liar - I'm glad she's my friend.

Thanks to my camera, it looks like my cake is about to 

spontaneously combust.  And it's not because there were 35 candles.

I would have killed Drew if he had done that.

That's me looking up at him and saying 'it's my birthday!'

He did such a good job!

Tres leches with strawberry innards!  

When they were cleaning up, I was all 'where's my cake?

Don't throw away my cake!'  It's at home right now, waiting for me.

I love cake.

It was so dark in the restaurant I'm surprised any of these came out.

But I'm especially glad this one did.  He's so cute.

Unfortunately, this is the best of the pictures I got that night because of course I was playing with the settings on my camera and over half of the shots came out blurry.  I was so annoyed but what are you gonna do.  But we had a great little crowd - my boss even came!  I really like my boss and I was so happy to see her there.  All told, we were a nice little group of about 12?  I think?  It was just right and it was such a great birthday!  We chatted and laughed all night, it was low-key and I really enjoyed myself.  I even stayed up until 11!

When we came home, I took a bunch of close-up pictures of my face, searching for signs of being 35.  I have a ton more gray hair, and there are some lines under my eyes, but for the most part I've held up pretty well!  I have no secrets - I don't drink elixirs, apply serums or ingest tonics, but I haven't fell off yet so at least there's that.  I have good genes and I've steered clear of the glaring no-nos like smoking and meth (it's a monster, that meth.)  I have no anti-aging advice and my plan for the next 35 years is to do more of what I've been doing, with some minor tweaks here and there.  Profound, right?

Doing my best Mona Lisa impression in the bathroom.

My hand and camera look huge but at least my brows look good.

Mona Lisa Smiles because she has a silly husband

It was a great birthday, Drew did a wonderful job and I'm super excited because my cousin and her best friend are coming tomorrow to stay for the weekend!  They will be our first guests in the new guest room/nursery so we have work to do tonight to get it ready.  I swear, as soon as we clean the room we buy something else and it gets junked up again.  This time it's the shelves - you remember the shelves in the living room right?  I got some more for the nursery and they are no easier to hang.  Poor Drew.  They are presently living on the bed with giant holes in the walls. Thank goodness I have the paint to repair the walls!

But you know, it's all good.  The sads have left me for now, I had a great birthday and I get to see my cousin and hang out with my husband this weekend.  Not bad.  Not bad at all.

The Girlfriend Fairy

Dude, can y'all tell when I write about one thing when I really want to write about something else?  Am I that transparent?  Because I have had something rolling around my brain but I hadn't quite figured out how to address my point.  I blame you if this comes out all wrong, Anonymous.  Kidding kidding.  I don't mind being called out.  Anyway...


One of my favorite bloggers wrote a post a while back and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since I read it.  This blogger is an amazing writer and I love her honesty and her words always jump off the page, almost to where you feel like you know her.  Of course, we can only ever know a blogger as well as they permit us to know them, but she's a pretty good open book and what I've read is awesome and that is one girl I'd like to have lunch with.


The post is worth a read, but if you don't read it, the gist is that she made lists:  one very specific detailing what she's looking for in a man and the other what she's wanting out of the upcoming year.  The list about the man caught my attention the most because my own Hubs has a lot of the things on her list.  In fact, hold please - going to re-read the list.


.....


Of the 18 things on her list, Drew has/is 12 of them.  I read her list and was like that's Drew!


Then I got to thinking about my life and my own relationship and I wanted to ask her and now you.  Say you get all that stuff - what are you willing to put up with to get it?  So often, we think of the good qualities in a person and we don't spend a lot of time dwelling on the bad.  Which is as it should be, because none of us would ever dare get into a relationship if we spent too much time thinking about the bad stuff.


However, that's life.  You may find a man who is well-educated, motivated and comes from a good family and wants boatloads of kids but (speaking only for myself) that does not make it any more ok that he's addicted to video games.


And before I go further, remember I am talking about me and my life and what doesn't work for me.  So if your man is all about the video games, or sports or whatever else, put down the stones.  I'm not talking about you.  I don't even know anyone whose husband is addicted to video games.


We all daydream about what we want in a mate or even a job (second biggest chunk of your time.)  But we rarely think about what are we willing to put up with or even give in order to receive what we want.


I remember when I was a kid, my mother used to yell at my dad constantly about shaving in the sink because he would never rinse it out when he was done and it drove her nuts.  A little thing, but those little things day in and day out are enough to make you temporarily forget all the great things.  My dad has never ran the streets, she always knew where he was, he always did his best to provide for us, but many a time the walls would shake with my mom yelling "Cliiiiiiinnnnt! Your hairs are in the sink again!!!!!!"  I'd hear married girlfriends gripe and I found myself internally rolling my eyes, wondering why they were nitpicking over such dumb stuff.


Only now that I'm married do I get it.  The shit gets on your nerves.


Rather than outline all my husband's faults (because that's unnecessary), he's got them.  We all do.  I'm pretty, I'm well-educated, I come from a good family, I want children, and I like to keep the house clean.  But I have a teensy itty-bitty tiny bit of an anger issue.  Betcha Drew didn't put that on his list!


Dear Girlfriend Fairy,
Please send me a girlfriend with big boobs and long hair that comes from a good family and will be a good mother.  Oh also, can she throw things at my head when she's mad at me and throw my clothes on the lawn when we're fighting?  Thank you Girlfriend Fairy.


Somehow I just don't think that's how it went for him. 


We don't pray to the Boyfriend Fairy to send us a tall dark and handsome man that will also spend every. godblessed. Sunday on the sofa in front of whatever game is on.  Or one who flat-out refuses to do the dishes.  Or one who always forgets birthdays and anniversaries.


But what if that very same guy loves you to pieces and is devoted to you and does everything right in every other area?  Could you do it?  Think right now about the grossest thing a guy could do or the thing that gets under your skin the most and pair that with your version of Prince Charming.


For me it's spitting (and I've already talked about it so it's okay.)  My motivated, well-educated, comes from a good family, wants kids, handsome husband spits when he brushes his teeth.  The hock-a-loogie spits.  Every time.  And it makes my skin crawl every time.  A little thing yes, but mutiply two, sometimes three times a day by 365 days by three years and that's a whole lotta spitting.  It's not a deal-breaker and I will love him until the end of his loogie-spitting days because it is what it is. 


Prince Charming spits.


Princess Charming will take all your clothes out of your closet and dressers and make a huge mess when she's pissed.


But let's end on a light note - without putting your significant others on blast, what's the grossest thing you would or do put up with in the name of love?


What would your letter to the Boyfriend or Girlfriend Fairy look like?

Great expectations

I figured out how to post my pictures so I've got alllll day to write - I love my new job!  On with the storytelling!

I was giddy leaving the house last week.  Just thinking about having Drew all to myself for all that time had me walking on air and I was practically bouncing in my seat the whole flight over.  Drew was already in the area at a work thing in Lake Tahoe - some team-building retreat complete with team-building exercises.  You know, beer pong, beer poker, beer volleyball, beer jet-skis - all the things that boost morale.  He was going to meet me at the hotel and I didn't give it much thought as I was too busy fantasizing about the upcoming week.  I had it all planned.


We were spending one night in San Francisco, renting a car and driving to Petaluma where we would marvel at the beautiful scenery while holding hands in contented silence, occasionally chatting about profound things that would bring us closer together.  We would spend five blissful days in wine country, holding hands, walking among the vineyards in contented silence, sipping wine and murmuring sweet nothings into each other's ears.  Then we would return to the city and walk around San Francisco, having great dinners and holding hands while talking and laughing like the happiest married couple on Earth.  


Oh yeah, I was going to get pregnant too.


According to the app on my phone, I was smack in the middle of my fertile window and due to ovulate the Thursday after I arrived.  Given that I was getting there Tuesday night it was going to be tight but I knew it would work. I'd get pregnant, it would stick and we would call it Sonoma.  The fetus, not the real baby.


Never mind that I wasn't sure if the app was correct, as my cycles have only recently become regular again and I wasn't using the ovulation sticks to be completely sure.  Never mind that we were currently unable to go even one day without picking at each other or even full-out fighting.  Never mind that neither of us had really talked about trying again since the last miscarriage.  Vacation would magically fix all of that!  Just call me Cleopatra.


The first hint of reality was when I talked to Drew in the car on the way to the hotel.  He'd had so much team-building that he'd woken up on the bathroom floor.  That did not bode well for my plans as I wasn't keen on him puking on me while baby-making.  I hadn't made a big deal about it being my fertile window because I wanted this conception to be as natural and romantic as possible.  I wanted there to be no talk of ovulation dates, cervical mucus or ideal times or positions.  I wanted to pretend that we were normal, that we'd had no trouble and we were just a couple of married people on vacation and we were just going to happen to get pregnant!

The hotel was gorgeous!

Our room overlooked Union Square

Fine, their picture looks better

View from our hotel room

Ornate ceilings in the lobby

It was so swank and cosmopolitan!  When I walked in, I could hear foreign languages coming from all directions.  The warm lighting, the marble floors, the beautifully dressed people - it was the perfect start to our vacation.  I envisioned Drew coming down to the lobby to get me, freshly showered, dressed cute, smelling sexy and ready for us to go out on the town.  After all, he'd arrived earlier than I did.  Surely he'd had enough time to sleep it off and get cleaned up, right?

My whole face fell when he rounded the corner.  He looked positively filmy.  He was wearing his bright blue plaid swim trunks, his lawn-mowing shirt, slippers and a backwards baseball cap that barely hid his bedhead.  He looked every inch the hungover frat boy and I was so disappointed.  Now, the wife that I wish I was and the wife that I aspire to be would have smiled anyway, greeted him warmly and rolled with it.


I'm not that wife.


I further lost it when I saw he was limping.  During beer volleyball, he dove for a ball and scraped the hell out of his knee and it was oozing and gross and bloody and my stomach turned over.  Not because it was gross but because he had hurt himself.  I was instantly sick, upset that he hadn't told me the instant it happened.  I got an inkling of what it might be like if I ever had kids and they hurt themselves.  


We got to the room and I was quiet and laid in bed with him asking me what was wrong.  I told him nothing was wrong, that I didn't want to fight and I was just tired.  However, I can rarely keep that up for long - I'm far too honest and direct.  You might have noticed?  So it took roughly a minute and a half before I burst into tears, blubbering "Why don't you take better care of yourself?  You go away like this and it's like you only think of yourself!  You act like you're back in college, your knee looks terrible, why weren't you more careful?  Why don't you think of me when I'm not around? You're not alone any more, you have to be more careful!"


"Is that all?"
"Nooooooooo."
"What else is wrong?"
"I was supposed to get pregnant on va-caa-tionnn and now I'm not because you're all hung over and i-i-in-jured."  Dissolve into sobs.


At first he tried to make light of it, that it wasn't that big a deal, that I was over-reacting.  Never a good choice - making light of my feelings will only upset me more.  So then he held me for a while, apologizing for getting hurt and for having too much team-building and then we talked about the state of our relationship, how neither of us is in a good baby-place, that our vacation needs to be about us and not making a baby.  How we need to be friends again and relax and go more than a couple of days without bickering.


He was right and I knew he was right but I was heartbroken over being together during my fertile period and not trying.  Trying to conceive is like being addicted to gambling.  You're positive that this cycle will be it, and if not then it'll definitely be next cycle but you can't know so you have to play every single cycle because what if you sit out and that was the cycle?!  We already miss so many months because he's out of town so often and it was unbearable to think that we would be together and not take advantage of it.  I know I should have faith, that things will happen as they should in God's time, but in that moment all I could think is that we were losing precious time that we would never get back.


Yet I knew he was right - and I hated it.  I wanted the fantasy, of my beautiful wonderful husband on our wonderful vacation where we say and do all the right things and bond and come together in the purest love and make a baby.  I didn't want our messy reality, where we still haven't learned how to truly communicate, where we're still carrying the pain from our previous losses.  I wanted both - I wanted to go ahead and get pregnant and we could work on our relationship while I was pregnant.  Because that always works!  Hormones don't make you crazy, pregnancy isn't stressful, especially not pregnancy after loss!  No way!


Hi - we haven't met.  I'm Cleopatra, and you are?


Finally, after a couple of hours (awesome start, right?), we left for dinner.  Drew lived in San Francisco for almost a year so he knew a lot of great places to visit and he took me to one of his favorite restaurants, the Rose Pistola.  My face was all puffy from crying and my heart hurt but staying at the hotel would solve nothing so we rallied.  Thankfully the food was stellar.

House-made spinach fettuccine with fresh cherry tomatoes, 

mushrooms and Dungeness crab.

It was so fresh and light and it did wonders to lift my mood!

It was like my tomatoes but the whole dish tasted that way!

Drew had gnocchi with fresh green beans and sausage - I think?

I can't remember the meat but it was delicious.

Conversation was stilted but we both gave it a try.  We talked about what we wanted to do in Sonoma and Napa and I told him about the suggestions that I'd gotten from Tanja, a blogger I 'met' shortly before our trip.  She told us about a great place in Healdsburg that I wanted to visit.  Drew is a wine fiend so this trip was like his Disneyland and he rattled off a giant handful of places he wanted to see.  He started to loosen up as he talked about the wineries he wanted to see and told me stories about the ones he'd already visited.

Dinner ended with us having successfully evaded any hot topics and without me bursting into tears at the table, so I thought maybe we were going to be okay.

Except in San Francisco, it was cold.  In July.  And I wasn't ready for that.