Secrets

I’m horrible at keeping secrets.  Not other people’s secrets – those I can keep as long as I’m allowed to talk to AMP about it.  And, if not, I can still keep those secrets – it’s just really hard.

But my own secrets?

Maybe for a day.

Or two.

A week tops.

And then I cave.

And, if by some miracle I don’t reveal the whole secret, I will reveal it in part, which in some cases ruins the surprise.

Or, I’ll have to reveal it to someone else… just so I can get it off my chest.

It drives AMP nuts.

He’s patient and likes surprises.

I have zero patience, and only like surprises in theory.

And, right now, I have a secret from AMP – the way I’m planning to reveal when I finally get pregnant.  It’s hiding away in my closet.  All ready and waiting. And it’s driving me nuts.

And, I want to share.  But I can’t.  (Especially not here, since as soon as I do he’ll suddenly start reading my blog again or something).

I hate secrets.

And surprises.

And yes, I am a bit crazy.

Charts and Graphs

Last month we decided that my last pack of birth control pills, well, would be my last.  Which means that yesterday, when I was set to start a new pack – I didn’t.  I’m officially off the pill.

I’m excited (I hate the little suckers), but also a little anxious.  I wonder what effects it will have on my cycle – if I’ll lose the predictability of every fourth Monday.  I also wonder what effect it’ll have on my skin – if I’ll start breaking out again, or if finally at 26 acne will be something of the past.

I’m also a tad anxious because, while I’m off the pill now, we do not plan to start trying to conceive till late spring.  Which gives us a good 3 or 4 months where we need to be careful.

So, for the first time in our marriage, contraception has become an issue. 

Given my predisposition to bladder infections and the like, I’m a little wary of female contraceptives.  The husband prefers not to use condoms — and, besides that, they are ridiculously expensive.  Well, maybe not, but at least in comparison to me being on the pill, which would equal $0 after insurance.  We picked up a pack anyways yesterday, and they come to $0.75 a condom, which adds up quick.

All this led me to research natural family planning.  And to buy a basal thermometer.  And to research charting and graphing.

All complicated, time-consuming stuff. 

But, I also found another option, the Standard Days Method*, which basically means that if you have a 26 to 32 day cycle, you abstain from day 8 to 19 of your cycle.  Which seems like an awful lot of abstaining… but at least it should work till I figure out the rest of this charting and temperature taking business.

Any one have any experience or helpful information on natural family planning?

* Unfortunately, WordPress is being a pain in the a**, and won’t let me link to the website with information on Standard Days Method, so here it is: http://www.irh.org/?q=content/standard-days-method-sdm

ShNo

Image via CrunchBase

So, you know how when you sit down at the computer and open your Internet browser, there are certain websites you automatically open… Like blogs, Twitter, Facebook, Gmail Reader, etc.

One of mine is Kijiji where I would sift through the hundreds of ads on available puppies and annoy my husband with links or pictures of my favorites along with the “Aww, isn’t he cute?!?!” 

Which would inevitably lead to, “Well, if you want it, we should get it” and then me hemming-and-hawing about price, commitment factor, etc…And, then we wouldn’t get the dog, and I would go back to my daily browsing of the website for new dogs, agreeing with his assessment that we should wait to get a puppy… at least until I stumbled across an ad for another beautiful dog.

One Friday, I show him a picture of an adorable dog for sale, a Husky/German Shepherd cross. 

The next day we’re traveling five hours to pick up a red-and-white Siberian Husky, that he’d found after doing some research of his own.

Yup, we have a puppy.  He was eight weeks old when we brought him home, and he turns 10 weeks tomorrow. 

Meet ShNo (not his real name):

He is adorable, but exhausting.  I keep telling people I’ll only have kids if I can survive this first year of puppyhood. 

But, I’m still incredibly in love with my new puppy, and my husband for getting him for me… So in love, I’m getting up with ShNo at 5am…and we all know how much I love my sleep.

Any tips on raising a puppy?  Or have a picture of your own little puppy to share?

Sometimes sharing is better

Image via Wikipedia

For the first 22 years of my life, I slept alone.

I could stretch myself out, end-to-end, of the queen size bed I received when I was fourteen.

There were no obstacles in my way, except for the occasion stuffed animal, or visiting cousin.

blankets were all mine to hoard; the room temperature mine to control.

And, then I was married.

I remember, that first night in the hotel room, when my brand-new husband fell asleep before I did, thinking about how strange it felt to be sharing a bed with someone – a bed I will now share forever.  I wondered if he would steal my blankets; if he would turn the light off before falling asleep; if we’d sleep cuddled or each on our sides.

I remember wondering, how long till it seemed normal, to be sharing my bed every night – after 8,030 solitary nights.

I remember wondering, if I’d cherish the moments when the bed was all mine, for a single night – where I could sleep on any side of the bed I chose – or spread across all of it.

And, then my husband went away for the first time – for a bachelor party for two nights just a couple of months after we were married.

I jumped into bed – ready to spread myself out – to enjoy the freedom of not sharing a bed – and I was overwhelmed by the emptiness of it. 

What I once cherished – now I despised.  I missed my husband being inches away from me.  I missed his warmth, the sounds of his breathing… I missed sharing my bed, even just for a night or two.

For the first 22 years of my life, I slept alone.

For the last 3 ½ years I’ve shared a bed.

I think I prefer sharing.

The

The What-Ifs

“And we can sell our house and drive down and live in Brazil.  I’ll be Ricardo.  Your name can be… Miranda…” 

I interrupt my husband in the middle of his plan to flee our current life and ask him why his ‘imaginary’ futures never seem to have children in it. 

His response was to ask me why mine never involve just the two of us.  Why I don’t want it to be just him and me?

I was quite effectively silenced (though I’m not sure that was his intent).

It brought to surface one of my greatest fears – making the wrong decision on whether or not to have a child.  Especially because it is mostly my decision – it is something my husband is willing to do because I want it – and not because it’s his lifelong dream to be a father.  I love just the two of us, but I want a baby of our own.  He loves just the two of us but he says he’ll be happy with expanding our little family, if I’m happy.    

But I worry that he’ll resent me for this huge change to our lives.

And, I worry that I’ll be resentful if we don’t make this change.
 

The father of my future children..

Image by jillhudgins via Flickr — kind of what my tank looks like.

We have a 100 gallon salt water tank which is my husband’s ‘baby’.  We jokingly refer to the fish as our children – you know the kind that stay perfectly contained in their space and don’t scream or cry or cause any ruckus… So completely fictional type of children.  We know that children will be nothing like having fish… Or at least I thought we did.  This conversation with AMP raised a few suspicions the other day.

We’re in the middle of renovating the basement, and have finally come to the part where we can pick paint colors.  As I’m flipping through flyers from the hardware store, I notice a sale on outdoor paint.  Our porch railings could use a coat of paint, because a lot has chipped off with the endless rain.

Me:     We should get some of this paint.
AMP:  For the basement?!
Me:     No, for the porch… Or are we not going to do it this year?
AMP: We’ll see how the basement goes.  Painting the porch can be something you do while on maternity leave.
Me:    Um.. you expect me to paint the porch while having a newborn?
AMP: Yea, well you can just leave the baby inside.
Me:    Clearly you know nothing about newborns love.
AMP: Yea, just put them in a crib or something and they can just wander around that – like when we get a new fish and we put it in a quarantine tank for a while.  Why else is do you buy a crib?  (Silence)   What are you doing?
Me:   Getting paper to write this down…I’ve been needing a blog post idea.

Ladies, I introduce the father of my future children…

Remind me not to leave him alone with the kid till the child is at least 3 or maybe 12.

A Monster…

I do not want to feel this way.  I hate myself for it.

I often wonder – what kind of person am I, to be sad for myself when I should be happy for others?

But the jealousy claws at me.  It shreds my insides trying to get out, trying to show itself behind the mask of a smile and the cheerful congratulations. 

I do not want to feel this way.

But I do.

The jealousy is a monster.  A stupid green-eyed little monster that crouches inside me at all times, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce and be released.

And, he is getting stronger.

With every announced pregnancy, he gains strength against me. I constantly battle him – my insides are raw from his battle to burst forth unwelcome.

I do not want to feel this way.

But I do.

My husband asks, “What can I do to make you happy?  You are always so sad.”

But I am happy.   I am.  I am blessed – with a wonderful husband, a great family, friends I can count on, a good job, a beautiful home.  I am happy.

But there are moments when the jealousy peeks out.  He finds a foothold to climb out. 

I want just one more thing.  Something I’ve been promised – but have been asked to wait a little longer for…

I do not want to feel this way.

But I do.

Patience has never been a strong suit of mine, but I am willing to wait for this one thing.  This child of mine who will come when he or she is ready – when we are ready… I can wait. 

The jealousy taunts me – ‘You are a fool,” he says.  “You cannot wait.”

”I can wait – I can enjoy the moments now,” I scream back.

But he is clawing at me, taunting me.  And, his ugly head peeks out again – and my smile fades and tears roll down my cheeks.

I do not want to feel this way.

But I do.

This post is inspired by The Red Dress Club promt: Write about jealousy… Ending my self-imposed silence on the subject. Hop over to read some wonderful posts…

And, as always, constructive critisicm is welcome.. :)

Mrs. WorryWart

Image by Robert Bruce Murray III // Sort Of Natural via Flickr

My husband and I have a lot of common… but we’re also very different in some ways.

One big way we’re different: our thoughts on planning and the future.

I like planning.  I like knowing what is going to happen, or what might happen.  I like having a plan in place, especially when we’re talking about major life changes, such as buying a house, or having a child…. Or even things like future vacations.  I like talking about the plan.  I worry and fuss, but it helps me to pass the time and think a little less about how impatient I truly am.

AMP’s most common response to my talking is, “that’s a long ways a way.”  It doesn’t matter if it’s a month or six months or five years away – most of the time I get the same response.  Which is fine.  Everyone is different.

But, then all these thoughts and questions get stuck swirling around my head, to drive me crazy. 

Like now.

Months and months ago, AMP agreed that we could start trying for a baby next spring.  Originally with the thought of a January baby; however, the more I read blogs and articles I realize that getting pregnant may not be as ‘easy’ as I may have originally thought.  So, I have all these worries swirling around: what if it takes me a year to get pregnant?  What if I miscarry again?  What if I can’t get pregnant?  How far are we willing to go to have a baby? 

And I’m sure if I insisted, AMP would talk about it, but it would be so under duress that it’ll just get me more frustrated.

So, next month I’ll speak to my gynecologist about my plans to get pregnant next spring and ask her questions like, how far in advance should I get off the pill, how can I ready my body for a pregnancy, etc.  At least someone will be willing to give me answers.

How are you and your husband different?  How did your husband feel about starting a family?

Careful what you ask…

Me:          “Babe, what is one thing I do that drives you crazy?”

from www.psychologytoday.com

AMP:        “Um…nothing.”

Me:          “No, really… What do I do that drives you crazy?”

AMP:       “Nothing, you are perfect.”  He says this with complete sincerity – a testament to 3 year of training marriage.

Me:                “Seriously, it’s one of the Writing Workshop prompts for this week so I need you to tell me what I do that drives you crazy so I know what to write about.”

AMP:       “You don’t do anything to drive me crazy.  You are amazing.”

Exasperated sigh on my end, but I decide not to push it.  A few minutes later…

AMP:       “You could write about how it drives me crazy how you can’t sleep with the light on, so I can’t read at night.”

Me:          “There you go, I told you that you could come up with one thing!”

AMP:       “Or how it drives me crazy that you leave your basket of shampoos and stuff in the shower.”

Me:                “Um…ok.”

AMP:       “Or how it drives me crazy that your clothes are all over the floor and all over the dresser.  Or how you sleep-in all the time.”

Me:      “I think I liked your original answer best.”

Before

Before I got married, I had these ideas.  I had ideas of what married life would be life.  I had ideas of how I would be as a wife.  I had ideas of how we would be as a couple.

Before I got married, I thought we would sleep every night cuddled up – like you see on the movies, or on mattress commercials.  I thought we’d fall asleep each night spooning, and wake up in each other’s arms.

On our wedding night, I realized that sleeping close to a person is not my thing.  I can remain cuddled up to AMP for about ten seconds before I need to shift around or flip my pillow over to the cold side.  I drive the poor man crazy.  In the 3 years we’ve been married, I’ve only managed to fall asleep cuddled to him and wake up that way twice, both occasions being mid-afternoon naps…

Before I got married, I thought I could handle being a great housewife.  That I would have a cleaning schedule that I would stick to, that I would learn to cook fabulous, well planned meals.  That I could become a morning person like AMP.

In the first year of marriage, I realized that I suck at domesticity.  Although I’m decent at cleaning, I can’t stick to a schedule and am always having to do major clean ups as I’ve left things around me to fall into complete disarray.  I realized that cooking is not my area of expertise, at all.  I realized that for me being a morning person is impossible.  That I need 2 to 3 hours of sleep more a night than AMP – and waking up is never something I’ll do ‘gracefully.’

Before I got married, I thought we’d be the couple who got up together every morning and had breakfast together.  I thought we’d be the couple who ate dinner sitting at the table.  I thought we’d be the couple who did everything together and exuded love and happiness.

In our three years of marriage, I realized that having breakfast together every morning requires me giving up sleep that I desperately need.  So we have breakfast together most weekends, but never during the week.    We eat dinner while watching television.  And, while we do a lot together, we definitely don’t do everything together.   

Before I got married, I thought marriage should be a certain way.

In three years I realized everyone’s marriage is different… and what we have works for us. 

Before I got married, I thought I would never love AMP more than I already did.

In three years I’ve realized that I fall a bit more in love with him every day.