So Mr Gay Gay Husband got himself an idenity makeover. Arguments serve a purpose in a relationship, I suppose. Maybe me telling him what was actually making me mad instead of just arguing about what was at hand helped.
Women hold on to words, fights, and emotions, or at least I do. Mr Formerly Gay Gay Husband does not hold onto or really remember arguments. Men are simply hardwired different from us. This makes living with them challenging. Living with Brad is like having a split personality. I have to do what makes me happy and at the same time think about what makes him happy. These are ususally at two different ends of the spectrum.
I have to realize that on his day off he likes to rest, not hike or bike just because I want to. He has to realize that I am not a lay around the house and stare at the TV type of girl. I have to realize that until Hell freezes over I won't be receiving loves notes. He has to realize sometimes you just have to say something nice, even if it takes effort.
So when does marraige become easy? I don't know if it ever does. I don't mean complacient, just not a struggle. I realize now why the divorce rate is so high. Sharing your life with the same person for years on end is just plain hard. It takes so much work. Thankfully having Turner made some things easier for us. We fell right into being Mommy and Papa like we were meant to do this together.
If money were no object I would love to have at least four kids. Those first few sleep deprived, walking zombie-like months were my favorite time of my enitire life. Watching Brad become a father, lying awake at night, nursing a baby and feeling Brad's hand reach out for both of us was when I knew I was meant to be a mom.
I loved nights with Tuner. Maybe because he really didn't cry much at night. Maybe I loved them because I finally had someone to keep me company when I couldn't sleep. Now I love nightime because both my boys look so sweet and innocent when they sleep. I cannot wait to have a baby to share the wee hours with again. I cannot wait to have a baby to share with Turner and Brad.
Mr Formerly Gay Gay Husband listened to me and made real efforts. Our marriage is like all things living, it cannot survive with out being fed and nurtured. Our marriage is lots of hard work intertwined with waves of heartache, and surges of happiness. The trick is to find someone who can ride the eb and flow with you.
I have thought about the new age of internet dating. If Brad and I both went on Match.com I know, without a doubt, they would never match the two of us up. They may even catorgerize the two of us as combustible if mixed. But I need the flames and the explosions. After all, waht would the Fourth of July be with out the fireworks?
Thursday, November 9, 2006
Wednesday, November 8, 2006
Passive agressive anger management
Passive agressive anger management. That's what Myspace is all about. I am pissed at Brad right now so I take him off my "Top Friends" list. Will he notice? No, he doesn't log in. Will he read this? No, he has never read a one of my blogs. Does he notice a damn thing about me? No, and never will.
He is gay, that's why he doesn't notice. He salivates to watch men in tight spandex costumes dance around and hump each other. You've probably seen it too, Monday night wrestling. Ask him any of their names, weights, records and he can spout it out. Ask him my middle name and he'll have to think a minute and then guess. So this is my passive aggressive way of venting my frustrations about Mr. Gay Gay Husband.
It's not like I can actually argue with him. He just yells and screams then falls asleep. Did I mention he's a gay narcaleptic? He's in love witht the TV. He loves to gaze longingly into it's eye for hours at a time. He gets very upset if anyone comes between him and his precious TV. If I made him choose between me or TV in our house, I'm sorry to say that I would loose.
The long hours of brain melting TV watching have leeched away so many braincells I am sure he will be a farting, burping vegtable any day now. Now don't take this loving review of my husband's bad habbits to heart. Don't call me and ask if we're alright, or are you wanting a divorce? Think about it for a second, what right minded wife doesn't want a divorce from time to time? Doesn't mean I really want to be rid of him, I just want to be mad at him for a while. And if you've never had these same type of frustrated feelings about your husband or wife, well then you haven't really been married, have you?
Isn't it supposed to be healthier to "let it out" when dealing with feelings of frustration and anger instead of letting it drive you nuts? That is all I am trying to do, it's cheaper than therapy you know? So, I will get on here and rant and rave about my stupid gay husband all I want, afterall it is "My"space.
Be forewarned, I am moody, very bitchy and not likely to take crap from anyone these days. Nausea and vomiting kind of make me that way. While doing my daily worship to the porcelin god out pours my filter, the thing that keeps me from saying what I really think. Also, out goes lots of my patience. All of the ice around me is thin, so move cautiously.
Mr. Gay Gay Husband has not read the warning signs. He has not paid attention to the flashing caution lights. He just skates right on over and does a big gay tripple sow cow and lands right on my thin ice. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I don't think I am particularly scorned, just fed up and pissed off at his inability to show love, care, or concern. I know I have waxed poetic about his strong silent nature but that was a different day. When I feel bad, I am a miserable person to deal with. It's very easy to get around this bitchiness though. Much the same way natives would offer up sacrifes to angry gods, throw in a "how're you feeling" or an "I love you" once in a while. This might keep the bubbling fires of the volcano settled.
He is gay, that's why he doesn't notice. He salivates to watch men in tight spandex costumes dance around and hump each other. You've probably seen it too, Monday night wrestling. Ask him any of their names, weights, records and he can spout it out. Ask him my middle name and he'll have to think a minute and then guess. So this is my passive aggressive way of venting my frustrations about Mr. Gay Gay Husband.
It's not like I can actually argue with him. He just yells and screams then falls asleep. Did I mention he's a gay narcaleptic? He's in love witht the TV. He loves to gaze longingly into it's eye for hours at a time. He gets very upset if anyone comes between him and his precious TV. If I made him choose between me or TV in our house, I'm sorry to say that I would loose.
The long hours of brain melting TV watching have leeched away so many braincells I am sure he will be a farting, burping vegtable any day now. Now don't take this loving review of my husband's bad habbits to heart. Don't call me and ask if we're alright, or are you wanting a divorce? Think about it for a second, what right minded wife doesn't want a divorce from time to time? Doesn't mean I really want to be rid of him, I just want to be mad at him for a while. And if you've never had these same type of frustrated feelings about your husband or wife, well then you haven't really been married, have you?
Isn't it supposed to be healthier to "let it out" when dealing with feelings of frustration and anger instead of letting it drive you nuts? That is all I am trying to do, it's cheaper than therapy you know? So, I will get on here and rant and rave about my stupid gay husband all I want, afterall it is "My"space.
Be forewarned, I am moody, very bitchy and not likely to take crap from anyone these days. Nausea and vomiting kind of make me that way. While doing my daily worship to the porcelin god out pours my filter, the thing that keeps me from saying what I really think. Also, out goes lots of my patience. All of the ice around me is thin, so move cautiously.
Mr. Gay Gay Husband has not read the warning signs. He has not paid attention to the flashing caution lights. He just skates right on over and does a big gay tripple sow cow and lands right on my thin ice. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I don't think I am particularly scorned, just fed up and pissed off at his inability to show love, care, or concern. I know I have waxed poetic about his strong silent nature but that was a different day. When I feel bad, I am a miserable person to deal with. It's very easy to get around this bitchiness though. Much the same way natives would offer up sacrifes to angry gods, throw in a "how're you feeling" or an "I love you" once in a while. This might keep the bubbling fires of the volcano settled.
Thursday, November 2, 2006
Morning musings
Tomorrow is my baby's birthday. So much has happened in two years. Two be came three. Lets hope three can become four. Turner changed Brad and I, all in good ways. Brad, my tough man, now has a softer side. He gets to be a kid again. Sometimes it feels like I have two boys instead of one. I have to break up fights, nag at both of them to pick up behind themselves, you know the stuff moms do.
Turner has turned into his own little person. He has clear likes and dislkes, even if I don't always know what they are. He acts more like his father everyday. This is usually a good thing. They love each other. Turner now screams "My Papa" if I try to sit in Brad's lap. I am still "My Mommy" but he's prefering Papa more everyday. I am lucky that "My Husband" is such a great father. The two don't always go hand in hand. Brad is patient and doesn't see Turner as a chore or burden, but as his buddy and his blessing.
Brad has been great the past couple weeks. I have been a little under the weather. He has pitched in around the house and helped so much. When I am cruddy feeling I wish that our families were a little closer, but they are not so we make do.
I am watching Turner move my file box up to the bookshelf and climb up to get his markers. When did the feat become possible? Probably around the same time speaking in sentences and picking out his own clothes happened. Scary how fast time flies once you have a child. One minute you are holding a sweet smelling newborn, the next minute they are walking, then telling you "No I don't want oatmeal".
I wonder if people with out kids realize how slowly time marches on? I didn't realize it before I had Turner. Now I am keenly aware of how it races by. He is bigger everyday. He knows new words or senteces and asks new questions everyday. My heart grows bigger with love for him everyday.
Brad and I are still growing too. I'm lucky that being parents together suits us. I try to be more patient with him and I think that goes both ways. My mom and dad stayed with us and thought that we bickered, a lot like my aunt and uncle do. I told this to Brad and he had the same reaction I did " What are they talking about? We never argue." I thought it was funny. We don't argue often but we do disagree. We are such different personalities it would be hard for us to live in the same house much less the same state if we tried to agree on every little thing. I guess we do bicker, but that's the way I like it.
Turner has turned into his own little person. He has clear likes and dislkes, even if I don't always know what they are. He acts more like his father everyday. This is usually a good thing. They love each other. Turner now screams "My Papa" if I try to sit in Brad's lap. I am still "My Mommy" but he's prefering Papa more everyday. I am lucky that "My Husband" is such a great father. The two don't always go hand in hand. Brad is patient and doesn't see Turner as a chore or burden, but as his buddy and his blessing.
Brad has been great the past couple weeks. I have been a little under the weather. He has pitched in around the house and helped so much. When I am cruddy feeling I wish that our families were a little closer, but they are not so we make do.
I am watching Turner move my file box up to the bookshelf and climb up to get his markers. When did the feat become possible? Probably around the same time speaking in sentences and picking out his own clothes happened. Scary how fast time flies once you have a child. One minute you are holding a sweet smelling newborn, the next minute they are walking, then telling you "No I don't want oatmeal".
I wonder if people with out kids realize how slowly time marches on? I didn't realize it before I had Turner. Now I am keenly aware of how it races by. He is bigger everyday. He knows new words or senteces and asks new questions everyday. My heart grows bigger with love for him everyday.
Brad and I are still growing too. I'm lucky that being parents together suits us. I try to be more patient with him and I think that goes both ways. My mom and dad stayed with us and thought that we bickered, a lot like my aunt and uncle do. I told this to Brad and he had the same reaction I did " What are they talking about? We never argue." I thought it was funny. We don't argue often but we do disagree. We are such different personalities it would be hard for us to live in the same house much less the same state if we tried to agree on every little thing. I guess we do bicker, but that's the way I like it.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Dog gone crazy
So the house is cleared out. My mom and dad are some where in New Mexico, on the first leg of their journey home. My house is quiet, very quiet. Brad's watching his army show in the living room and I am in the office listening to silence.
We found out yesterday that my boy is allergic to dogs. This comes as an absolute shock to me. How can my child be allergic to dogs? He's been around them since he was born. He loves them just like I do. We both can see the good in all of the breeds. We both love to pet friendly dogs on the street. But he is allergic.
In light of this discovery DeVille is also somewhere in New Mexico. We sent her with my mom and dad to see if her not being in the house will make a big difference to Turner. So far the only difference I notice is that we both miss her something fierce. We will see her when we get home in December. We will more than likely take her back to Utah with us after Christmas. Now before anyone thinks I am putting my love of all things furry and four footed before the health of my child, just wait a second. Turner will have to be on Zyrtec long term because of his allergy. Most of my friends have dogs. All of my family has dogs. He will come in contact with other children on a daily basis who have dogs. There are dogs in my neighborhood, next door even. So Brad and I think that he'll be OK with a few added measures of protetion.
I am totally ready to vaccuum more often, bathe DeVille every two to three days, and keep her out of his room and off his bed. He needs his "D". I do too. She is one of us. She goes everywhere we do. She vacations with us, she flys more than most people that I know, and she is deeply enbeded in all of our hearts. Brad even said the house just feels weird without her.
How will Turner get the life lessons that loving a dogs brings with it? You love them and you enevitably loose them, it's part of growing up. When he has a bad day in school, who will he nuzzle up to and feel better when a mom or pop won't do.
To many people, this would not be an issue. They would just give away the dog and be done with it. I can't do that. I also can't give away my family, who owns and loves dogs. I can't give away my frinds because they have shared their lives with K-9's. I can't give away my neighbors and all the people in the world whose paths we cross while they are out walking their dogs. It's an allergy, not a life sentence.
I will give him his medicine. I will make sure he washes his hands after playing wiht Villey. I will teach him not to smush their faces together, no matter how fun that can be. He will learn to love her in a new way and we will adjust our home and routines to keep both of them happy and healthy.
Turner has asked for "D" so many times today it really made me realize how much she is a part of our little family. Though she is only seven pounds the hole that's left in her absence is huge.
We found out yesterday that my boy is allergic to dogs. This comes as an absolute shock to me. How can my child be allergic to dogs? He's been around them since he was born. He loves them just like I do. We both can see the good in all of the breeds. We both love to pet friendly dogs on the street. But he is allergic.
In light of this discovery DeVille is also somewhere in New Mexico. We sent her with my mom and dad to see if her not being in the house will make a big difference to Turner. So far the only difference I notice is that we both miss her something fierce. We will see her when we get home in December. We will more than likely take her back to Utah with us after Christmas. Now before anyone thinks I am putting my love of all things furry and four footed before the health of my child, just wait a second. Turner will have to be on Zyrtec long term because of his allergy. Most of my friends have dogs. All of my family has dogs. He will come in contact with other children on a daily basis who have dogs. There are dogs in my neighborhood, next door even. So Brad and I think that he'll be OK with a few added measures of protetion.
I am totally ready to vaccuum more often, bathe DeVille every two to three days, and keep her out of his room and off his bed. He needs his "D". I do too. She is one of us. She goes everywhere we do. She vacations with us, she flys more than most people that I know, and she is deeply enbeded in all of our hearts. Brad even said the house just feels weird without her.
How will Turner get the life lessons that loving a dogs brings with it? You love them and you enevitably loose them, it's part of growing up. When he has a bad day in school, who will he nuzzle up to and feel better when a mom or pop won't do.
To many people, this would not be an issue. They would just give away the dog and be done with it. I can't do that. I also can't give away my family, who owns and loves dogs. I can't give away my frinds because they have shared their lives with K-9's. I can't give away my neighbors and all the people in the world whose paths we cross while they are out walking their dogs. It's an allergy, not a life sentence.
I will give him his medicine. I will make sure he washes his hands after playing wiht Villey. I will teach him not to smush their faces together, no matter how fun that can be. He will learn to love her in a new way and we will adjust our home and routines to keep both of them happy and healthy.
Turner has asked for "D" so many times today it really made me realize how much she is a part of our little family. Though she is only seven pounds the hole that's left in her absence is huge.
Friday, October 20, 2006
We're Back
So we survived the vacation. Yellowstone is magnificent. I loved the wildlife, but haven't I always loved all types of wild life? Turner was great in the truck. Never fussing about the drive. He was thrilled at every new sight.
All of it was great, but I am apparently jaded. I have beautiful mountains right out my front window. I have no wild animals wandering around here, unless you count Brad before he's good and awake. I loved the sunsets at Yellowstone. They were beautiful beyond words. The geysers were neat, but steam blows out of my ears on weekly basis too.
The hot steaming pools of pure blue water that looked good enough to soak in were nice. But paled in comparrison to gazing into the blue depths of Turner's eyes.
I guess what I am getting at is the majesty God created is breathtaking, but not breathing. The most wonderous of His creations is rolling around on the floor in my living room playing with his grandfather right now.
I have studied every inch of Turner since before he was born. Eevery ultrasound, every kick, every inch of him is amazing. How fast he learns, the depths of his feelings, how the sun looks bouncing off of his hair. He is truely breathtaking.
The vacation was great because it was spent with my family. Hell, it was even great spending time with Brad. But all I kept thinking was that God had it easy making the mountains and geysers. People, now that's a challenge. Everyone of us is different. Our minds and souls so complex no two will ever be exactly the same, that is nature's beauty.
All of it was great, but I am apparently jaded. I have beautiful mountains right out my front window. I have no wild animals wandering around here, unless you count Brad before he's good and awake. I loved the sunsets at Yellowstone. They were beautiful beyond words. The geysers were neat, but steam blows out of my ears on weekly basis too.
The hot steaming pools of pure blue water that looked good enough to soak in were nice. But paled in comparrison to gazing into the blue depths of Turner's eyes.
I guess what I am getting at is the majesty God created is breathtaking, but not breathing. The most wonderous of His creations is rolling around on the floor in my living room playing with his grandfather right now.
I have studied every inch of Turner since before he was born. Eevery ultrasound, every kick, every inch of him is amazing. How fast he learns, the depths of his feelings, how the sun looks bouncing off of his hair. He is truely breathtaking.
The vacation was great because it was spent with my family. Hell, it was even great spending time with Brad. But all I kept thinking was that God had it easy making the mountains and geysers. People, now that's a challenge. Everyone of us is different. Our minds and souls so complex no two will ever be exactly the same, that is nature's beauty.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
10 feet tall and bullet proof
So I have always known that I am a little crazy. It's also always been fine with me. I know I am controling, bossy, possesive, and some might call me a bit dominate. I am OK with all of it. What I am not OK with is being helpless.
My first memory of being truely helpless was when my sister was in kindergarten. One of the little boys in her class, one of her friends, was killed in a four wheeler accident. I think his name was Barron. She cried herself to sleep after my mom and dad told her what had happened. This being a traumatic day for everyone bedtimes were off and I was up late. I couldn't quit moving, now I know this is what a caged animal feel like. I was sick on my insides.
I remeber telling my mom how I was feeling and she explained that they all were felling that way b/c we couldn't help Barron, and we couldn't help Tabba feel better. This is a feeling I will hate for the rest of my life.
Being helpless is my #1 fear in life. It is a constant worry that someone at home will need me and I will be way the hell out here in UT. Now what you might ask do I think I can do to rewind time and stop a car accident or heart attack? Not a damn thing but be there.
Now this need to be there stems from my belief that I am truely invincible. I am always a little shcoked when I see pictures of Brad and I. I am almost a full foot shorter than him but I have never noticed. In my mind I am big and strong enough to protect him from any danger. I didn't know til last Christmas that I am a lot shorter than my mom and sister. I always just assumed that I was taller b/c I have always thought of myself as the big one who'll protect them. When people called me petite I just thought they were joking.
After I had Turner my proctective nature multiplied by a hundred fold. I threatened a women's life in walmart b/c she insisted on trying to touch my 6 day old miracle. I don't know what came over me but the thought of her RSV flu germ carring hands even near my baby drove me over the edge. She had the nerve to mutter "How rude" under her breath as she walked away. Don't mumble, it only pisses me off more-rabbid animals can smell fear remember?
So when I talked to Tabba today she said someone close to her had really hurt her feelings. I listened and tried my best to do what ever I could to make her feel better. I feel helpless way the hell out here. I need to be able to drive to her house and hug her. I need to be where I can get to her when ever she or any of my family need me. I also need to learn to calm down and be rational when I feel my blood literaly rising at the thought of someone hurting soemone I love. Not ignore my feelings, just not get arrested either.
It's not just Turner and Tabba, they just happen to be at the top of my list. My parents, my husband, all of my little cousins, my family- they're all up there-so don't mess with them. I used to beat up my little cousins, but don't you touch a hair on their heads or you have to deal with me.
So I am still not sure what it is I am supposed to do when I grow up. But I have known from a very early age that I am some sort of protector for those I love. If you don't have this gene, this deep inside of you need to watch over people then this is really hard to grasp. I get it from my dad, he's a protector too.
There are draw backs to being this way. I am controlling to the point of agrivation. I want to dictate what you eat to make you healthier and live longer. You have to call and tell me when you're running late. You have to buckle up damn it. And I'll all but pee on you to let the world know you're mine and to leave you the hell alone. This makes me a pretty good friend and very bad enemy. I have a horrible temper and a long memory. I am not quick to forgive and I never forget. This will make me old fast and burn holes in my stomach but it's who I am.
My first memory of being truely helpless was when my sister was in kindergarten. One of the little boys in her class, one of her friends, was killed in a four wheeler accident. I think his name was Barron. She cried herself to sleep after my mom and dad told her what had happened. This being a traumatic day for everyone bedtimes were off and I was up late. I couldn't quit moving, now I know this is what a caged animal feel like. I was sick on my insides.
I remeber telling my mom how I was feeling and she explained that they all were felling that way b/c we couldn't help Barron, and we couldn't help Tabba feel better. This is a feeling I will hate for the rest of my life.
Being helpless is my #1 fear in life. It is a constant worry that someone at home will need me and I will be way the hell out here in UT. Now what you might ask do I think I can do to rewind time and stop a car accident or heart attack? Not a damn thing but be there.
Now this need to be there stems from my belief that I am truely invincible. I am always a little shcoked when I see pictures of Brad and I. I am almost a full foot shorter than him but I have never noticed. In my mind I am big and strong enough to protect him from any danger. I didn't know til last Christmas that I am a lot shorter than my mom and sister. I always just assumed that I was taller b/c I have always thought of myself as the big one who'll protect them. When people called me petite I just thought they were joking.
After I had Turner my proctective nature multiplied by a hundred fold. I threatened a women's life in walmart b/c she insisted on trying to touch my 6 day old miracle. I don't know what came over me but the thought of her RSV flu germ carring hands even near my baby drove me over the edge. She had the nerve to mutter "How rude" under her breath as she walked away. Don't mumble, it only pisses me off more-rabbid animals can smell fear remember?
So when I talked to Tabba today she said someone close to her had really hurt her feelings. I listened and tried my best to do what ever I could to make her feel better. I feel helpless way the hell out here. I need to be able to drive to her house and hug her. I need to be where I can get to her when ever she or any of my family need me. I also need to learn to calm down and be rational when I feel my blood literaly rising at the thought of someone hurting soemone I love. Not ignore my feelings, just not get arrested either.
It's not just Turner and Tabba, they just happen to be at the top of my list. My parents, my husband, all of my little cousins, my family- they're all up there-so don't mess with them. I used to beat up my little cousins, but don't you touch a hair on their heads or you have to deal with me.
So I am still not sure what it is I am supposed to do when I grow up. But I have known from a very early age that I am some sort of protector for those I love. If you don't have this gene, this deep inside of you need to watch over people then this is really hard to grasp. I get it from my dad, he's a protector too.
There are draw backs to being this way. I am controlling to the point of agrivation. I want to dictate what you eat to make you healthier and live longer. You have to call and tell me when you're running late. You have to buckle up damn it. And I'll all but pee on you to let the world know you're mine and to leave you the hell alone. This makes me a pretty good friend and very bad enemy. I have a horrible temper and a long memory. I am not quick to forgive and I never forget. This will make me old fast and burn holes in my stomach but it's who I am.
Thursday, October 5, 2006
Get to packing
Get ready, get set, OK vacation! So I should be washing all the clothes and packing the suitcases, but I'm not. I am soaking up the silence. Nikki used to say "SHHHHHHH, hear that?" I would tell her I don't hear anything, she'd say "Exactly". Quiet is a comodity that is scarce when you get married and it's a far away dream once you become a mom. I love all the noise-Sesame St on the TV, washing machine downstairs, dishwasher upstairs, toys flying across the room and banging into the walls, and "Mama" screamed about a thousand times a day. I love all of it. I also really like it when it's quiet. Just the noise from the cars passing outside.
The minute Brad walks in the house the TV must be turned on and up loud. He likes it, I like him so I live with it. After I've spent a weekend with him I am so ready for him to go back to work so I can clearly hear all the voices in my head. I like it when Turner and I first get up and it is silent. No cars outside because the rest of the world is still sleep at 5 am. No TV, just me and my boy and two bowls of oatmeal. This is better than meditaion.
But the clothes need to be washed and packed, we're going on vacation tomorrow. We'll be gone 5 days. This is the longest Brad and I have ever been on "vacation". We come home a couple times a year for a week or two but it's not really vacation, it's home. I am really looking forward to this trip. Yellowstone is suppsoed to be gorgeous. Plenty of photo opportunities for me. So I'll pack in a minute. Gonna listen to the breeze for a little while longer.
When I do pack, I will pack more crap than we will ever need. This is the thing to do when you have a 2 yr old. An extra outfit for everyday-check, toys-check, snaks of every description-check, absolute necesities(Bear and Elmo)-check, diapers, pull-ups and extra underwear-check, everything Brad will surely forget-check, all my stuff except a few really needed items-check. It's mom and husband duty to pack for all of their needs and in the process forget about most of mine.
I think this is why women become so much nicer to each other once they become moms. I did. Now when I see a mom with a screaming baby on a plane I don't roll my eyes or wish the kid would shut up. Now I offer some of Turner's toys and say to her-Hey it happens to all of us, no big deal. Being a mom means taking care of everyone's everything first, and then if there is a spare minute squeezing in some time for your stuff too. So now I realize this is probably how all the other women, moms and wives feel. This is how it's supposed to be. It's our job.
The minute Brad walks in the house the TV must be turned on and up loud. He likes it, I like him so I live with it. After I've spent a weekend with him I am so ready for him to go back to work so I can clearly hear all the voices in my head. I like it when Turner and I first get up and it is silent. No cars outside because the rest of the world is still sleep at 5 am. No TV, just me and my boy and two bowls of oatmeal. This is better than meditaion.
But the clothes need to be washed and packed, we're going on vacation tomorrow. We'll be gone 5 days. This is the longest Brad and I have ever been on "vacation". We come home a couple times a year for a week or two but it's not really vacation, it's home. I am really looking forward to this trip. Yellowstone is suppsoed to be gorgeous. Plenty of photo opportunities for me. So I'll pack in a minute. Gonna listen to the breeze for a little while longer.
When I do pack, I will pack more crap than we will ever need. This is the thing to do when you have a 2 yr old. An extra outfit for everyday-check, toys-check, snaks of every description-check, absolute necesities(Bear and Elmo)-check, diapers, pull-ups and extra underwear-check, everything Brad will surely forget-check, all my stuff except a few really needed items-check. It's mom and husband duty to pack for all of their needs and in the process forget about most of mine.
I think this is why women become so much nicer to each other once they become moms. I did. Now when I see a mom with a screaming baby on a plane I don't roll my eyes or wish the kid would shut up. Now I offer some of Turner's toys and say to her-Hey it happens to all of us, no big deal. Being a mom means taking care of everyone's everything first, and then if there is a spare minute squeezing in some time for your stuff too. So now I realize this is probably how all the other women, moms and wives feel. This is how it's supposed to be. It's our job.
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