10th Anniversary

This day, 10 years go, I was getting ready to go to our wedding.

Which means I have been married for 10 years.

10 years?!

Which would mean I would have known Harrington for 14 years.

Mind. Blown.

Our lives look nothing like they did 10 years ago.  A lot has happened.  New jobs.  New kids.  New home.  Our life has evolved.  And each change presented it’s own set of challenges and speed bumps.

Ten years ago when I married Harrington, I knew I wanted kids and a house to grow into.  But I often wonder, at the tender age of 25, how the hell did I know this was going to work.

The short answer is I didn’t.

The long answer is I knew we loved each other, and at the time, that was good enough.  As our lives unfolded, that love was the foundation for support – I supported his choices; choices in new jobs, choices for networking opportunities that took him away from the family, choices to recharge such as hockey.  And he supported mine; to be a full-time SAHM, going to the gym, blogging, and a brief, yet intense scrapbooking phase.

That support built a layer of respect for each other and our unique roles in our family.

Now my role is changing a bit since I am no longer a full-time stay-at-home-mom.  Sometimes I doubt this choice, as if I broke my promise to Harrington and if I am being honest, broke a promise to myself.

When I start to become overcome with guilt or confusion, he encourages me.  His cheerleading efforts range anywhere from making sure I’m well hydrated by brining we water as I slave over grading assignments to emptying the dishwasher to taking his shift with the kids.

 In those moments I realize how this whole marriage thing works for us.  We are a team.  And he wants me to be me.

Creating a space for each of us to evolve as we grow older – that is the truest love of all.

Like I said, each stage brought it’s own set of issues.  In the beginning of our marriage, to say that I *may* have had some trouble with compromise would be an understatement.  Bringing kids into the picture, although incredibly awesome, was not easy, either.

But now that we made it through some hard stuff (harder than they early fights of what brand fish sticks to buy and what grocery store to go to), I feel more confident in us as a couple.  Do I think we will not endure any more difficult encounters?  Absolutely not.  However, I do feel more confident in our ability hold tight during those bumps in the road rather than pulling off to the side and asking to get out of the car.

Yesterday, my parents brought us cake and a bottle of wine for our anniversary.  My mom said, “This is just the beginning,” as my dad nodded in agreement.

I totally believe this to be true.  And I can’t wait to see where the next ten years takes us.

Happy Anniversary, Harrington.

I love you.

 

10 years ago . . .

Cake and Champagne

My younger cousin just got married this weekend.  The ceremony and reception took place in this charming barn and the rustic theme was carried out beautifully.  Marie also happened to be the flower girl.

Having been married over nine years and two kids later, I was feeling very nostalgic. My cousin, who stood up in my wedding, was now walking down the aisle, and my daughter, who was just a glimmer in my eye at the time, was her flower girl.  It was very surreal.

I remember my wedding and process of planning such an event very clearly.  Almost too clearly.  And I have to say, although I was marrying the love of my life, it was not the happiest of times.

First of all, it was a HUGE transition going from living alone for a large portion of my early twenties to living with someone and compromising on everything.  EVERYTHING!  We had to compromise where went to the grocery store.  We had to compromise what we ate for dinner.  We had to compromise what kind of toothpaste we had to buy. I felt like every time I turned around, BOOM, another compromise. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the same tools I have today to deal with such change and compromise.  Thank you very much, blogging, yoga and therapy.

Second of all, Harrington’s parents were in the middle of a non-amicable divorce.  I won’t bore you with all the salacious details, but it’s hard enough to get two *totally* different family cultures to coexist; however, it becomes infinitely more difficult when one family had a hard time being in the same room together.

Third of all, my boundaries at the time were not as strongly defined as they are now.  It is possible (and by possible, I really mean probable) that I *may* have been swept up in the type of wedding all my friends were having, along with expectations of my family traditions.

As imperfect as it was (although you would never know it from all the shiny, red carpet-esque photos that were taken that day), it was a good representation of who I was nine years ago:  young, people-pleasing, romantic, and *slightly* self-involved (but what twenty-something bride doesn’t get a little me-centric while planning an event in which, traditionally, she is viewed as the star).  (On a related note, I may not be as well-rested as I was in my early to mid-twenties, but these kids do a damn good job of making me feel grounded).

Having said that, if I was granted a redo of our wedding day, I would have taken the money given to us to pay for the reception and build a better nest egg (especially, if I knew the economy would drop the value of our house so much.  Ick).

Instead I would plan a simple, yet elegant cake and champagne reception.  No drama over traditions, protocol, and family issues.  No months and months of stress over flowers and food.  Maybe we could focus on how we wanted to be as a married couple instead of worrying about a seating chart for a party.

Ah, damn you, hindsight for being so 20/20!

We will be married ten years this August.  So maybe this would be a good time for a redo.

Is there anything different that you would do at your wedding?  

Feel Good Friday. . . Sort Of

Be sure to check out The Girl Next Door Grows Up and her awesome blog!

Well, I have to say this week was really fun, pulling a John C. Mayer with my dear Aunt Becky.  Kathy M. Griffin, I *heart* you, and I hope that you see my post named As Maggie Griffin Would Say on Kathy Griffin’s show My Life on The D-List on Bravo TV Network, “Tip it!”  Anyway, enough of all that . . .for now.

So this time next week The Hubs and I will be going on an all expense paid trip to Vancouver for his work conference.  This will be the first time we will have gone anywhere together since Marie was 9 months old.  If you do the math, it’s like 3 ½ years ago.  And the only time I have ever left them both was my Spa-venture, which was only 4 hours away. 

So next week, The Hubs and I will be traveling eight hours by plane, thru three time zones, clear across the land to the foreign country of Canada.  YIKES!  Now Harrington was all worried about it being an 8 hour flight because that’s such a long time to be in a plane.  Really?  Eight hours where I can sit by myself and read and/or sleep sounds like a relaxing way to spend the day.  A far cry from the two eight hours days in The Mini with the Babes and my Mom all the way to New York for BlogHer.  Which was the longest. Car. Drive. Ever.

I’m also really excited because we’ll be staying at the Four Seasons!  Can you believe that?!  Plus we get to go on some tour of the islands and see wild bears and lumberjacks and the blue ox Babe.  (Well, I just threw in the blue ox part).  This is all Feel Good Friday stuff, right?

So here’s where the sort of part: I feel guilty about enjoying this awesome opportunity because I didn’t necessarily “earn,”  like I’m riding his coattails.  And when I think about it, that’s really ridiculous because when he’s working all those extra hours, I’m working all those extra hours, too.  It just feels weird to be doing something like this.  I guess he got to enjoy all my BlogHer 10 swag, like my Jimmy Dean alarm clock, Jimmy Dean Coupons, Eucerin lotion, DreamSakes package and my new LG vacuum from the Mouthy Housewives party (when I hopefully get it soon).  But somehow that just doesn’t add up to a free vacation (for me at least) in Vancouver at the Four Seasons. 

Also, I’m sick to my stomach leaving The Babes.  I know it’s good for everyone (me, them, their alternative caregivers), but it still makes me nervous.  I don’t even want to get into all the what ifs because there’s a gagillion. 

But enough, because this is Feel GOOD Friday.  I will feel GOOD about this because I deserve a break with Harrington.  And The Babes will be fine.  Don’t you think three years is a long time without a break?  I do.

So what’s going on with your, Friends?  Any exciting plans in the mix for you?

Have a good weekend!

Other Treasures Discovered

If you follow me on Twitter or are fan on the Mommy on the Spot page on Facebook, then you know I have been bitching up a storm about getting ready for my Treasure Sale (which sounds way better than garage sale). (garage sale sounds like I have junk, whereas a Treasure Sale sounds like I am parting with my Beloved Possessions because they no longer fit our lives). During the process of the Treasure Sale, a few Intangible Treasures have been discovered.

1. I think that I am more overwhelmed than I realize. Or maybe sifting through almost ten years of stuff is just too much while taking care of little ones. But I felt that I almost had a mental breakdown during this time. I don’t know, but I just feel drained. Is this normal part of purging? I don’t know. Or is that just a normal part of taking care of a 1 year old and a 4 year old?

2. I think that I am lonelier than I care to admit. It’s like I am never alone, but often feel lonely. I am taken back by this because I feel that I am kind of hitting a stride in my mothering skills and have created a nice circle of friends. So why am I like this? I think it has to do with the face that the person I share my life with just doesn’t get what it’s like to be a mom, let alone a stay-at-home one. It’s not that Harrington doesn’t value my prowess in SAHM-y skills; it’s just that he doesn’t get what it takes to take care of a house and kids. I don’t know why this should bother me. My friend Ali at Sunrise Rants talked about living in a village. I totally get this.


3. The Male Ego is tough to crack. I will not bore you with all the tedious details of the arguments surrounding the prepping of the Treasure Sale. Let’s just say that when I want something done around here and it’s put off or done as quickly as possible with little concern to quality, I take it personally. This is my “office,” and when it comes to certain things, please just respect the way that I do it. Don’t let your ego get in the way. I feel like there is little talk of the Female Ego. . . probably because it went out the window when giving birth. The whole mothering, nurturing thing leaves little room for an ego. The birthing process, nursing, being pooped on, vomited on, calming irrational fears, learning the special patience that is required to put up with little ones – all that destroys the ego so the heart can grow and give the Babes what they need. That in turn takes a lot out of me. So if I need a little extra support, be it emotional or manual labor, to get through a tough day or an extra duty such as the Treasure Sale, I feel it should be given. Without reservation.


So, yeah, who knew I would find these gems right alongside my old papasan chair (my first piece of furniture I bought all on my own for my new apartment) and Wizard of Oz poster (from my childhood room).

Because this is going to take some time, I probably won’t get to posting for Feel Good Friday or comment much on your blogs. But I will be back next week!

Wish me luck!

Put a Dress on and Show Up

Last Sunday, my DH and I celebrated our six year anniversary. I thought about the day of our wedding. I remember how much fun it was getting ready and how beautiful I felt, and six years and two kids later, how opposite I feel like that now. Tired eyes from no sleep and nursing boobs have a way of impacting my self image in a negative way, go figure. Anyway, all nostalgia aside, this was definitely a “for worse” year. As my Mom says, years like this build our history together as couple.

- Right before our five year anniversary, we found out I was pregnant with NT. We were so excited!! And then my Friday sickness kicked in, which is a lot like morning sickness, but way worse than the morning sickness I had all week. Literally, I was sick every Friday. And once I was really lucky to end up going to the hospital due to dehydration. (Hmm, that sounds so Hollywood, but it was actually really gross). The ER is no place for a sick pregnant lady, that’s for sure. But I survived, and DH came up with a great way to cheer me up: Take me to see Kathy Griffin for my birthday . . . yeaaa! (As you will see, this was one of the few high points).

- In attempt to make more room in our 1500 square foot house and convert our office into NT’s bedroom, we decided to finish the basement. Ourselves. And by ourselves, I mean my DH and my Dad with the occasional help from my FIL and BIL. My DH promised it would be done by January. But as everyone knows (even me who’s father seemed was always remodeling something while I growing up), it always takes twice as long and costs twice as much. It is just about done. . . . seven months later. It was sheer hell waiting for the basement to be done. I had some serious nesting urges that could not be squelched because the office stuff was in the soon-to-be nursery and could not be moved until the basement was done enough. *shudder* All I can say was that there were some primal screams from both parties. It should also be said no one should mess with a pregnant lady and her natural instincts. I felt like the declawed cat from Meet the Parents. He had the urge to pee, but couldn’t since he was potty trained, so he dug throughout all the house plants. I hope you get the picture.


- DH started a new job last summer under the pretense that he would be working from home. Then he got a new boss who wanted him to work at the office that was over an hour away. So now instead of having him home all the time, which was no good, he was never home, which was no good either. And when he was home, he was the crabbiest I had ever seen him. Ever. That was until he lost his job.

- DH lost his job six weeks after NT was born. I was dying inside thinking of no money, no health insurance. Losing a job in Michigan is NOT a good thing. We have friends that have been out of work for at least six months. NT has a surgery scheduled in September. GM is starting preschool in the fall. We were freaking out. He felt like he let us down as a provider. I felt like I could not be super supportive because I was only six weeks out of having a baby by C-section and an emotional wreck. This was a very dark time in our relationship with the basement being a very close second.


- Another upswing is that DH did end up getting three job offers and accepted a job super close to home. We also have awesome health care along with a huge cut back in his pay check. But he got a job, and I was damn proud of him!

- NT has been difficult since month three. I feel like I am loosing my mind, and my DH doesn’t always understand how tough it can be. Which is why I’m sure he decided to go away for four days on a golf outing with his friends. In the midst of trying to figure out why NT has trouble eating and sleeping, DH goes five hours away without his own car and no cell phone reception to play golf and drink with his college buddies. I almost begged him to come home if I wasn’t so mad I could barely look at him.


So that was our year. On our anniversary, I put on a dress, and we went out for dinner, and had dessert at our old Dairy Queen. To be honest, I was too exhausted to go out, but I just had to push through and show up. But marriage is like that. I have to forge ahead believing there will be “for better” years, too. I also believe that if I show up, it’s got to get better. And looking at the past few days, it has. So here’s to a “for better” year.