Two Dogs and Three Kids

After coming up with the title, I realized that I’ll probably need to clarify: the third kid is not me expecting, it’s me counting my husband as a child. Sometimes I loving refer to him as my third child, as I’m sure a lot of wives also are guilty of. In my case it isn’t because I think my husband is juvenile or immature, in fact he’s basically the opposite of either scenario. He’s a great father because he’s able to tap into the minds of the boys and entertain them a lot better than I can. He knows what it’s like to be a child. I never really enjoyed cartoons or Disney movies. I liked books, art, and writing. I suppose not much has changed.

The long weekend started on around Thursday, when the baby decided to be incredibly fussy and tired. (Image borrowed from funnyasduck,net) Last time we played this lovely game of “how can I make you happy today?”, I ended up with a painful surprise of his first set of teeth. Our assumption is that we’re ready for round 2 of “To Teethe or Not To Teethe”. I was just getting used to my angel getting back to a proper sleeping schedule. Now, I get evil glares from over the crib saying “excuse me, I would like you to pay attention to me now” at all hours of the night. And when there isn’t that, I get kept up because he has his father’s and brother’s skill of “sleep talking”. And he’s loud. I want to be mad and tired and cranky, but he smiles his “two teeth” smile at me, and I can’t do anything but laugh. I also pretend to be awake the rest of the day, but if I keep one eye open I don’t doze off.

Then there are the sick puppies. Doggy number one comes down with mystery illness also on Friday, giving a fun weekend of “where is he going to get sick on now?” It was a thrilling game that I luckily didn’t have to play too much of, which was great because did I mention there might be a teething baby? He eats everything so we just assumed that he ate something that upset his stomach and he’ll work through it. Until doggy number two ended up sick as well this morning. Oh yes, always on my toes.

Then there is my husband. Let’s be honest: men are babies when they are sick. They whine, they whine some more, then they fall asleep. It’s ok though, at least in my case, I know he returns the favor. And by favor I mean ordering me to bed making me trust he’ll take care of everything. He does, in his sweet way of serving me tea and helping me feel better. He also makes sure the oldest son is kept in Slim Jims and Salt & Vinegar chips with a side of pepperoncinis, while they stay up late watching cartoons. Oh I love my boys.

Mothers thrive on this adrenaline of not sleeping. We want to sleep, but we keep going and we have the ability to not complain too much about it. The family is worth every sleepless night and every article of your clothing that ends up in the wash or trash due to something incredibly gross getting on it. We might end up with God knows what in our hair at the end of the day with a sick family and we can honestly say we’re too tired to care. (I admit it.) But like everything else in life, you have to just take the bad with the good. Because the good is worth every second of the bad.

And Tomorrow There Will Be Flowers and Candy and Cards!

This week has a theme: love. Well, I mean relationships in general I suppose. After all, Valentine’s Day requires special consideration. With all the loving mushiness all day long, how could I not let the opportunity pass to mock celebrate such an incredible tradition. I would be doing everyone a disservice letting it pass. Since tomorrow is the big day, I shall dedicate this post to the best time of year: Valentine’s Day. Some parts may need parental guidance for crude language.

Every year, no fail, I make at least 2 jokes about Valentine’s Day being abbreviated to “V-Day”. Both are obviously obscene ways to go with this. One, the “V-Day” stands for “Venereal Day”, because every year someone comes back with a gift that keeps on giving. The other one is to point out the “V” may stand for the fact that mostly only women give a care about this holiday. Why else are the colors mostly pink? Or I suppose a joke about the color red also fits here. Again, I reiterate that I did warn you this would be a little crude. I say them every year because, while as funny as I find it, it seems that it’s true. Last year according to some statistics I read, 11,000 babies were conceived on Valentine’s Day. I’m not brave enough to actually find out how many diseases were actually contracted as well, but I’m sure that number is also up there.

I know, I sound like a bitter person for this. I’m not lonely, in fact I’m very happy in my relationship. One reason we’re so happy is that we don’t need one annual day to show that we care for each other. If you rely on that, your relationship is probably in worse shape than you think. My husband is smart about it, though I don’t particularly care about gifts anyways, and sticks to things like videogames or books or dinner. Flowers are a waste; you spend $50 on flowers that last a week if you’re lucky and I hate chocolate. I tried to find a card to show that I have some sort of romance. The truth is, I don’t and I left empty-handed. I couldn’t stomach the sappy “I love you always” cards, and apparently they don’t make “I love you even when you fart in bed and stink up the room” cards.

My real point is: don’t rely on Valentine’s Day to show you care and if you do, don’t go crazy. You don’t want to raise expectation bars you’re not willing to exceed every year. Sure that $3,000 diamond necklace sounds good today, but 10 years down the line you’re forking over a BMW. The great women want a thought, and the ones that want an expensive showy gift should be the ones you break up with before Valentine’s Day so you don’t have to buy her a gift. I’ll probably get a card from my boys and big loving hugs, and that’s perfectly OK with me. I don’t need anything but to spend the day with them anyways.

Does Love Make You Blind… or Simply Stupid?

With all this talk about Rihanna and Chris Brown, first I wonder “why should I care?” Actually in a way we shouldn’t, it’s not our business what celebrities do nor do I see why it’s news. However, this gets over shadowed by the fact that he beat her up and it played out for the world to see. I understand she’s a horrible role model for girls. Maybe people aren’t as shocked that she ended up with someone who mistreated her, because that’s what we (as in us women) do. Maybe they hoped that this event would bring awareness to the situation as to prevent it from happening, using the young and hip Rihanna as a poster child for their cause.

The sad truth is we’re mostly all guilty of this attraction to the “bad boy” at one time or another. I hate sweeping generalizations as a rule, but this one seems more true than most. When you’re out of the phase when mistreatment is considered OK, you realize that the nice ones are keepers. Maybe it’s a long stretch of unfortunate relationships that really makes you appreciate the nice guys. Then you realize that you were stupid before, and you wonder why you just didn’t go after the good guy after all. The question again: why allow ourselves to be with guys who mistreat us?

I’ve thought about this a while, and I’ve decided there are two reasons why we allow ourselves to go the bad way. One is the obvious tale of low self-esteem. Maybe we just think that low of ourselves that we settle for guys who lie, cheat, and smack us around while telling us how awful we are. We think that it’s acceptable and just deal with it, the guy is probably right anyways and we’re lucky to have them. If he’s able to cheat, that must mean he’s just that desirable and I’m so lucky that when he does come home at night, he comes home to me. I couldn’t help but to sign reading that, realizing how true that train of thought is to some people. And then I wish I could meet them and slap some sense into them.

Then there’s the fixer in us. Maybe the other reason is because we see a guy that needs to be fixed and decide “I can change him into a better person”. You can’t. And you definitely can’t go into a relationship and pretend you’re going to make this guy fall so hard for you that he does a complete 180 in his personality. I always joke that my husband loves me for my imperfections. Does he watch more movies that he wants than I do? Sure he does. Would he rather play videogames than take out the trash? Absolutely. When I’m sick and trying to rough it and take care of the boys, does he say he needs to go out and stay out at all hours leaving me alone and sick with 2 kids? No chance, he sends me to bed and takes charge. That’s what’s important, he’s a rare gentleman of our time. I know that he’s not perfect, but I know that he won’t leave me or cheat on me or ever mistreat me in any way, that’s why I married him. I never once tried to change him. That’s not healthy for either person in the relationship. Sometimes you just have to accept someone is no good and just be strong enough to leave.

That fixer in us is worse for us in the long run. That destroys self-esteem to the ground, and no one but you is left to pick up the pieces. We’re dumb to think that we can really change people; we can’t. People might seem like they change, but down to their fundamental core they stay exactly the same. The decision is do you allow yourself to be beaten down in every sense of that phrase or do we allow ourselves to grow up and stand up for happiness. We all are in that spot at least once in our lives; but not all of us have the emotional strength to walk away.

We

In the morning, it’s hard to find anything worth watching. You’re stuck with baby reality television shows, infomercials, or biased news talk shows. So, I generally chose the baby reality shows. It makes me feel better than I’m no longer pregnant anymore and I get to laugh at how silly they look talking about normal things making it seem like they’re the first person to have to make a cold lunch for one child while pregnant. Yeah, we’ve done that move on. I find reality shows are really just comedies for me to sit around with my popcorn because the way they make every day life seem like an over-dramatic soap opera is really just hilarious.

Something did catch my attention on Monday, and I decided to watch 3 hours worth of these shows for an experiment. On the first show at 7 am, the husband of this woman who was having a difficult time with the pain begs for an epidural after several hours. Her husband stood outside talking to the camera while they were putting the epidural in and said “we really wanted a natural childbirth so we’re pretty disappointed by this. Maybe next time.” I took the controller to rewind this (thank you DVR) to see if I heard this man correctly. It turns out, I did. I couldn’t believe my ears that a person could be that idiotic.. or selfish I haven’t decided yet. So I watched for a week and it turns out that in more than half of these shows the husband or partner says something like “we had hoped to have a natural birth/breastfeed but she couldn’t do it and we’re disappointed.”

If I had heard my husband say anything like that, I’d probably punch him in the face. It wouldn’t be hormones, it would be my short temper. The “we” part of the baby process ended with the making of the fetus. “We” cannot have natural childbirth, “I” can  have natural childbirth. He can be a part of the decision and most definitely was a part of every decision that was made. But there certainly was only one of us squeezing a child out. You could say “my wife wanted a natural childbirth but was disappointed she couldn’t” and it would be perfectly acceptable. I understand, maybe the “we’ makes him feel more involved. But it seemed like “he” wanted the natural birth more than she did, and to be disappointed that she “failed” him is incredibly aggravating.

Personally, I’d like to see him pop out a baby naturally and see how long he lasts. I give him 5 minutes before he offers to do unspeakable things to the anesthesiologist for pain relief. Then I hope he’s too far along to get one and has to go at it alone. No, I don’t feel bad for saying that. The most important point of this whole rant can be applied in mostly every situation in life: It’s easy to make decisions for other people without knowing what they’re going through. In pregnancy and birth, nothing ever really goes as planned. And no one ever realizes how excruciating it is until going through it. Instead of being disappointed that your wife couldn’t “suck it up”, sit by her every second of the way at your place next to the bed and let her decide if she’s in too much pain. Get her ice chips and rub her back and make her feel better, not worse. And to you reality show “supportive” soon-to-be dads, understand that any woman who had gone through childbirth and sees you say something like that, realize that we’re all thinking about punching you in the face.

#awkwardthingssaidatthedoctors

Sure, that hashtag is longer than most tweets. It’s the most fitting title I could come up with. You’ll be forewarned that I will at least mention sex in this post, and maybe something else graphic. We’ll see where I end up, as I write these blogs from the top of my head with only a main point. Where that point takes me? I guess we’ll all find out after.

Today I found myself again in the doctor’s office. I went in with hopes of change, with hopes that maybe just maybe I would get sent to the hospital to finally end this pregnancy. Of course, that didn’t happen. No change. I sat there in the room with the midwife, a new midwife to my doctor’s office, and a student looking at me with looks of consolation. I don’t want consolation, I want to end the madness. My due date isn’t until tomorrow, and I half wonder if I’m just that lucky to have children on their exact due date. I wouldn’t say lucky though, because tomorrow is a whole day of cramping and being too sore to function.

As I was leaving, I was called into her office like a student passing by in the halls who just happened to do something wrong in front of the office. She told me to schedule a fetal stress test for next week before my next scheduled appointment. Then if I’m unfortunate enough to still be pregnant by then, I get to sit for an hour twiddling my thumbs while I’m monitored to make sure everything’s ok and discuss being induced. I might turn to religion if it’ll get this child out of me before it gets cut out of me forcibly. It’s one thing to go into the hospital and “oops, guess you need a c-section” so you don’t have time to psych yourself out. It’s a completely different story when you have to schedule it and over think your insides being cut up and pushed aside while you’re awake and watching the shadows while they do the surgery. I’ll buy this kid whatever he wants if he comes out now.

Before I finally left for good, in a completely crappy mood. No, crappy doesn’t cover it. I would actually use “shitty” to describe my mood at the moment, I had a bright moment when the midwife loudly said “until then, have lots of sex”. I looked up with a raised eyebrow and completely embarrassed. I can’t say that the first thing on my mind at that moment was what got me into this situation to begin with. Much to my horror she continued on, and it may have been my imagination but she said it louder this time. “Seriously, it would really help your situation. Enjoy yourself! Well, you don’t have to enjoy yourself, just as long as he does.” Yeah, that really happened.

In the end, I think I’ve officially hit a wall of frustration and being emotional. I can’t even begin to describe everything on my mind at this moment, and I definitely have no words for how I’m feeling. I definitely think I’m just going to spend the day wallowing in my bed maybe to catch up on all the sleep I’ve been missing due to my lack of comfort. I probably won’t though; wallowing isn’t my style. Commence jumping jacks, spicy food, and castor oil?

Just When You Realize How Time Flies…

… and realize how you’ve grown since then.

I’m not sentimental or romantic in the normal sense. I don’t have a ton of pictures, I have enough to remind me of certain events without being overwhelmed in a dozen boxes of pictures. I didn’t save my bouquet and if my wedding dress and veil weren’t in my closet, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you where it was. I could tell you how much it cost, but I don’t remember any detail about it. I couldn’t tell you what I wore on my first date or when it was. Even when I talk about my husband, I don’t think I express more than adoration for him hoping that my emotions are at least written in between the lines. I don’t feel like my best writing comes out with pure love, maybe love in a nonsensical idea but not in a romantic way.

I’d like to share something I wrote 9 years ago and I ended up marrying that person in the end, with no help of my own. I admit I spent most of the time foolishly defying whatever fate had been laid out for me. I screwed up a lot, mostly as a result of lacking a romantic bone in my body and fearing any sort of commitment. Most of all, I feared I was too damaged and felt I didn’t deserve the person that stood before me and promised to love me. I ran, and I’m ashamed to admit it. After a series of events, I did grow up and got smart about life. Maybe I was wrong the entire time I said that “love was nothing more than lust, and we’d lie if we denied it”. I could be right, because without several forms of lust we wouldn’t fall for a person. But love, love is what keeps those 2 people together because lust can fade. If you have to compromise the person you are and the beliefs you have 100%, you shouldn’t be in that relationship. True love is where you’re allowed to be exactly who you are without feeling like you’re a fool. True love lets you be free to do what you want knowing that you both come back to each other at the end of the day. If there’s any doubt in that, maybe you need to reconsider your situation. It’s all give and take, and you shouldn’t give more in a relationship than you get. That’s not love; that’s being walked on.

To close, I did promise to share something before I went into a long-winded rant. So here it is. I’m glad I got my head together and came back, our family is perfect and I’m pretty sure not having it would be my biggest regret. I’m glad we got our “reboot”, we’re stronger than ever and I’m sure that’s what makes our marriage as strong and happy as it is.

“My Adonis”

If I could, I’d give you the stars. And if you would, I’d like a few minutes of your time, to sit and tell you a story. A story of a beautiful man, worthy of his own galaxy; whose mind equals in beauty. I’d share with you my dreams of him, and moments I wish for.

I’d tell you how he laughs and his radiant smile. I’d tell you how he makes me feel, and how I wish he felt.

I’d tell you how I fancy to dance with him under the stars, and share a most perfect kiss. I’d tell you how I saw him, in the stars’ light.

I’d tell you how I wish he held me. I share with my hopes of ‘us’. I’d share that I wish that he saw me as I saw him.

If I could, I’d hold him close, and hear his heart beat. I would listen to each breath, and wish that he breathed me.

.. Most importantly, I’d tell you that you’re the beautiful man my whole story was about.

A Lesson All Men Should Learn

Recently I was at a BBQ with my friends and my husband. One friend asked me  how the pregnancy was going and I responded how well it was. I then began to mention about how awesome my husband was, how I hadn’t experienced insane mood swings, and I felt generally pretty good. In mentioning how awesome my husband was I noted that I could have a craving and before I could say I wanted it, I had it. My friend laughed and said “that’s called ‘preventative maintenance’. You stop the problem before it even starts.” He laughed mentioning if he knew then what he knew now.

That idea of preventative maintenance was hilarious to me. What am I, a car? When I stopped laughing at that idea, I realized that it’s true. Maybe that’s why my husband is a unique and incredible person that convinced me to marry him. I never had a moment of “oh I wish”, because before I could wish it I was given it. He knows something no other guy I have ever met knows: prevent the argument by figuring out exactly what she wants before saying it. It seems so simple, and yet so complicated. It’s almost ingenious. Is she feeling stressed? I know, I’ll do the dishes for her. Imagine how easier life would be with your partner if they figured out this secret to relationships!

I can’t help but to brag. It’s like when your children do something amazing and you just want to tell the world. I think men should take a lesson from him, and realize it’s easier to prevent the problem then buy flowers and jewelry after you screw up. Maybe you should think of us as cars that need regular maintenance to stay in happy condition. And if we’re happy, your life is a little less miserable. This goes double true for your pregnant wife, because we all know how insane things can get with hormones very quickly. Does this sound a little sexist? Probably, but just because it sounds sexist, doesn’t mean there’s no truth in anything I just said. Remember men, “preventative maintenance”. Maybe she’ll let you get that you’ve wanted.

Things I Learned: Random Rants Edition

It’s that time, and it’s been a while since I discussed silly little random things I’ve seen and learned a lesson from. An introduction to these points would be repetitive, so I’ll let them speak for themselves.

What I learned this week about being pregnant: My husband asked what happened to his cookies, and I told him that if he didn’t eat them where he would find them. He looked at me, and it occurred to me what he was thinking. “I didn’t eat them, what just because I’m pregnant, you think I eat everything in the house?” He tried to hide his smirk, and nodded yes. The next day, I nearly devoured a 15 lbs watermelon all by myself. He looked at me, smirking away judgmentally and lovingly and I realized that maybe he was right. Except about the cookies, even pregnant I still don’t really like cookies. It bothers me he was right and so smug about it. I shall be a good wife and remember this when I want something he won’t agree to and use it against him. Remember men, it only works because you let us get away with it.

What I learned while watching Fox News this week: I looked up to see them discuss a news story that none of the other news organizations bothered to air. I didn’t care enough to listen to what news story it was, but I couldn’t help but to laugh about the news articles I’ve read that never saw its way on Fox News. As if there was a God that wanted to prove a point, I read about Charles Worley and wanted to cry about how humanity is going. I waited several days, and not a mention of him on the news programs or as a headline on their website. In case you were wondering, he’s a pastor who wants to round-up gay people and lock them in an electrical fenced in area to die off. Also, check out the Anderson Cooper video with a follower of this pastor on Gawker. You’ll learn to love that quirky silver-haired man after watching this video. I’ll shout out a “thanks” to him for saying what we were all thinking in that way only he can. I’d like you guys to play the “Find the Charles Worley Story on Fox News” game too. But please, show us more of how unlikable Elizabeth Warren is because I’m pretty sure people take her as seriously as they take Joe Biden. Oh, I hope no one takes either of them seriously because they are both as nutty as an almond bar. Also, I’d like to know more about how religious freedoms mean the government can’t tell the religions what to do, but the religions can tell the government what to do. Last I check, gay marriage was more of a religion topic than a governmental one.

What I learned from Gawker: You’ve become my most reliable source of news over Jon Stewart now. I’m not sure if that’s sad for me or sad for the organizations that call themselves “News”.  I’ve also learned that I’m going to start watching the Anderson Cooper show. I’m glad I mentioned him in my novella that is finally in the polishing stages.  Please for the sake of corporate news cynics like myself, continue to tell us stories the mainstream media refuses to share with us. Gawker, my family loves you.

What Kids Really Learn

Before having kids, I thought the “Nature vs. Nurture” was a joke. My son isn’t biologically my  husband’s, but that doesn’t make him any less the father. This scenario is the only proof I need that while kids are born with a certain disposition, the environment they grow up with influences them more than we can understand. My son is every bit of my husband, the same mannerisms and likes and interests. It’s something completely interesting to witness, and last night this all came together for my inspiration for today’s blog.

This idea of what a child learns is all speculation. No one really knows how a child really learns, but one thing most people agree on is that a child learns from observing the people around them. This learning comes mostly from our parents. We see how they act and behave and a child learns from this. This can go from 2 extremes, the really silly and the really serious.

To start with, the serious. A daughter who witnesses her mother being mistreated by her father might grow up thinking that this behavior is something acceptable, and allows herself to be treated the same way by her future partners. A son who sees his mom beaten might grow up thinking that is the way to treat women and become abusive towards his partners as well. Nothing is guaranteed, but statistically it happens more often than not. Children are sponges for information, and without being shown what’s appropriate or not, can lead down a path making us wonder what we did wrong not realizing it may be too late to fix it. With this idea, in raising my first son I led by an example I hoped that he would grow up and be proud of. My husband’s parenting style is the same, and it worked out well the first time around and I hope it continues the next time.

Now, the silly way this can be proven true with a funny story of my household. My husband is a very overprotective person, one feature I find both lovable and annoying. Next to our bed, he has a wooden stick that he jokingly refers to his “just in case beating stick that can be used from anything from robbers or a zombie apocalypse”. One day, my son was sitting on the bed watching streaming videos and dropped his favorite stuffed animal. When he picked it up, he noticed the wooden stick and asked about it and of course I told him and he smiled that smile he gets when I tell him something about his father that makes him want to be more like him. And last night I found out he was.

I went downstairs before I went to bed like I usually do to check in on my son and nephew while they were sleeping. I went into my son’s room to retuck him in and I noticed next to his bed was one of those plastic bats ready to be grabbed for “just in case”. I couldn’t help but to let out a loud laugh which made him turn in his sleep. I called upstairs for my husband to see what I can only blame him for, and we sat laughing together.

This just makes me wonder if I’m right about children learning from what we do and how we behave. While no one really knows the answer, I’d like to think that you should set an example for your kids. Then you can look on with pride when they explain to you in the morning why they had a plastic bat next to their bed or why they picked up someone’s money and returned it to them instead of keeping it. We do a lot by raising our kids to high standards of behavior and giving them knowledge to be good people in society.

Who Needs Flowers?

My husband is a good man, as I often state. In the years he’s known me, he learned one thing: never send me flowers. It’s not that I don’t appreciate flowers for their beauty, only their beauty actually planted. I don’t see the point in flowers, they are just dying plants that only last a week at best and you pay a lot for. Maybe I’m just too cheap to truly appreciate a bouquet of stargazing lilies, but it causes problems on days like Mother’s Day where it’s customary to give your wife flowers to show your adoration. He always makes do with surprisingly thoughtful gifts that make me laugh that other men get off easy just buying some roses and having their ladies swoon at their feet. Not my husband, he doesn’t like to take the easy way in anything.

Usually he can’t keep his gift a secret from me. 2 years ago at Christmas time, he comes over to me with a box. “I can’t keep it a secret, I’m too excited. You might as well just open in now.” It was barely 2 weeks until Christmas, and his joy in giving me a present he thought I’d love turned him into a kid waiting to open his presents at Christmas time. That is the type of person he is. He doesn’t really care what he gets, but the joy in our eyes when we love our presents turns him into a giddy schoolgirl.

This Mother’s Day was different. He kept his mouth shut though I kept guessing what it was that he got me. He smiled maniacally, playing a game with me of “you’ll never figure it out”. I knew I figured it out though, but I knew I’d be shocked and thrilled when the day came. Sure enough, with a knock at the door and the shrill bark of our overly anxious dogs and in comes my husband and son with my surprise: An Edible Arrangement. Now, I knew this was coming but my fat pregnant self couldn’t help but be giddy and touched all the same. My number one food craving has been fruit, and here was a giant bouquet of my favorite food in gigantic size. The card was signed with a “love” from my husband, my son, and my unborn son. It was adorable, and I don’t normally call things adorable. No other word seems to fit.

I devoured that thing in a day. I regret that now, not just because all that delicious fruit was gone but because my stomach still hurts from my lack of willpower. Apparently, your appetite reaches “bottomless pit” mode at 6 months pregnant. The pain is worth it, so so worth it. Mother’s Day is a day to celebrate the things we do as mothers every day and to celebrate all our mothers for everything they do for us. So all Moms, including all the Moms in my life, you are awesome and don’t forget it. It’s all worth the pain.