Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
It comes out of nowhere - she'll be sitting quietly on her sofa and out of nowhere, she'll run over to her kennel, get on her hind legs and go to town. It's freakin hilarious and last night was a riot. The loveseat in the sitting room has two cushions on the back and she's taken to, ahem, claiming them.
Now that she's old enough we decided that it was time we take her in to get fixed. We didn't talk too much about it and I made the appointment for this morning. But I think somehow she knew - last night she was humping the loveseat like she knew what was going to happen in the morning. I kind of felt bad for her - but I know it's what's best for her mindset. I wouldn't want to be thinking about sex all day and not be able to do anything about it.
So this morning, I got up earlier than usual to take her to the vet. Our power went out because of the storms here which added a little bit of drama to the situation. It was as though the house went dark in honor of what was about to happen. Poor thing.
She was remarkably well-behaved on the car ride over and traffic wasn't that bad, which meant we got there before the vet opened. So we just hung out in the car and I snapped a couple of pictures of her pre-lady-bits-removal.
I wonder if she knows.
She does really well on car rides - one more thing I'm thankful for - and it made me think of her first car ride when Drew brought her home from the breeder.She was so little back then - you know, three months ago. When I brought her in to the vet's office I signed some papers and they took her back. I felt a little anxiety for her and I thought I'd be able to stay until she was put under but apparently they don't do it like that. It was very no-nonsense, thank you very much, she'll be ready after 3:30. Ummm, okay then. I walked out rather disoriented - it happened kind of fast and I felt that there should have been more ceremony to it. After all, she's losing her lady bits!
So I took out my anxiety on Drew when I left. I told him that he needed to be there at 3:30 sharp, I don't want her awake and waiting on you, you should probably be there before she wakes up so you're the first thing she sees, she needs baby aspirin for the pain - make sure you get some before you get there, bring her blankets that have her scent on them so she's not scared, you'll probably need to carry her out so she doesn't stress her stiches - make sure you carry her out, you call me just as soon as you leave but don't leave if it looks like they've done anything suspect or her stiches don't look good or anything, and she hasn't eaten since last night - make sure to ask if she can eat and if so, what can she eat and how much and when - are you writing this down? do you need to write this down?
I could practically hear him rolling his eyes at me.
What can I say? I'm nervous for her - I don't have feelings for the dog per se, but I have an unparalleled sense of responsibility for her. She depends on us, on me, and my feelings about how she came to live with us cannot compromise that. It's not her fault that I didn't want her -- all she knows is that this is where she lives and we are her caregivers, and I'm going to do a good job at that no matter what I'm feeling about the fact that she is teething and biting everything in sight, including my fingers and toes. I just about bit Drew's head off when he asked if I wanted to join them for a happy hour tomorrow night.
(in my snotty can-you-be-that-dense voice) 'Really? The day after the dog has surgery and we're supposed to leave her for longer than we already do? Really? Have a drink for me, I'll be going straight home to take care of the dog.' These mothering instincts are no joke, they do not discriminate. (no matter how much I wish they did)I hope that getting fixed will calm her down a little bit, although I have visions of Samantha's dog in Sex and the City and how despite being fixed, her dog relentlessly humped everything in sight. I don't know which I'd rather have - her chewing up my decorative pillows or her humping them.
Talk about the lesser of two evils.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Back to reality.
It's interesting that it took less than a week to come crashing back to Earth, but I'm guess I'm thankful that I'm mature enough not to clap my hands over my ears and go 'lalalalala'. Instead, I mourn what could have been and calmly resolve to deal with what is.
Waaaay back, Drew and I were first talking and fighting about whether or not to stay in an apartment or get a house. He was ready for a house, I was not. I had many reasons I didn't want to get a house and one of the big ones was that if we got a house we wouldn't be able to afford a wedding and I really wanted to be married before we had a house. I know it's just one day, I know the marriage matters more, but these words are usually coming out of the mouth of a person who got to have a wedding.
I fought tooth and nail but I lost that battle, as we now live in a house. I knew I had two choices: be bitter and make my life miserable by constantly reminding Drew that this isn't what I wanted, or make the best of it. I have chosen the latter and I now love our house and it is my home. We had the same fight over the dog. I lost that fight too, although I'm not in love with the dog just yet and I wouldn't hold your breath on that one.
The house is wonderful, and as anyone who is a homeowner knows, it is a massive money drain. We didn't even have to remodel anything but we still have poured every available penny (and some unavailable pennies) into this house. This means there are zero dollars left for a wedding. Zero. Now, even though I have already made my choice to love this house and make the best of this situation, I knew it would happen like this. It's simple math and it has nothing to do with attitude. If you have a hundred dollars and you buy something that costs a hundred dollars you have zero left. Zero.
I knew this, I knew better than to get my hopes up. The rational part of me knew that more likely than not, I would have to revise my girlhood dreams of how it would be when I got married. Then I got a glimmer of hope. My mother told me that she was due to come into some money and when she did, she would give me a portion of it for my wedding. I slowly allowed myself to think that we might be able to do something after all. I knew better, I know better.
This is the story of my life. My parents want the best for me but they cannot always provide it. I know they sacrificed to provide me with some things financially but they are classic over-promisers, under-deliverers. My father does it so he can look good to other people, to give people the illusion that he's doing it (whatever it is) better than the next guy. My mother does it from a purer heart - I know she wants to come through because she loves me but it's just much easier to be honest and simply say you can't.
However, I do not blame. Again, I do not blame. I am responsible for myself, my feelings, and above all my reactions. I'm the one who allowed myself to think that this money would materialize. And who knows, it still might. It's just becoming more and more apparent that it probably won't anytime soon, which eliminates the possibility of planning anything. Caterers (and every other wedding-related person) first want a date, then they want a deposit - neither of which I have.
I'm the one who allowed myself to browse the bridal websites, daydream about a dress, look up caterers, make a page on The Knot, pick bridesmaids, daydream about their dresses, look at invitations, daydream about shoes, hair, and makeup. I did that - no one made me. I knew there was no money in my nor Drew's bank account for any of those things. I knew that none of that would be possible without my mother's money (I hate even saying that).
I remember when I was dating this guy my dad liked, he called me and told me that if things worked out with us, he'd be willing to give $20,000 toward a wedding or down payment on a house. I nearly choked on my laughter - where the hell would he get $20,000? Did he think I didn't know him and know that he does not, nor has he ever had that kind of money? But it sounds good coming out of his mouth and I know my dad wants to be that guy, for other people if not for us.
My brother once told me about the right, fast, cheap triangle. That when you consider a task, you will probably only get two out of three in a best case scenario. In my case, of course we could have a wedding. We could do something fast and cheap but it won't be "right". I would have to compromise on more than what I'm willing to. We could just go to Costco and get some paper plates and plastic cups and borrow some metal chairs from the church up the street and do it that way. Or we could do it right and cheap. God knows, there are a kabillion blogs and websites devoted to DIY weddings and how to do stuff on the cheap. But that doesn't usually happen fast. There's some planning and researching involved. It takes time to collect mason jars for centerpieces! Or we could do it right and fast but we all know that last minute stuff is rarely cheap.
The objective is to get married this year. That is the only thing that's important and yes I agree, the marriage is far more important than the wedding and I refuse to go Bridezilla on Drew or be one of those couples whose relationship disintegrates because of the wedding.
But damn it all, I wanted a dress. I wanted flowers. I wanted to celebrate with my friends and family. I wanted us to dance and for our friends and family to witness our family being created. For all the 50% divorce statistics and wedding horror stories, I wanted those moments. The wedding doesn't make the marriage, I know that. I do. But I had really wanted it to be a defining moment, a marking in time signifying that before you were single, after you're married. I didn't want my wedding day to be just another day, where we just add 'go to the justice of the peace' in between 'walk the dog' and 'pick up groceries' on the errand list. But, frankly that's all we've got money for and I'm allowed to say that sucks.
I'm allowed my moment of silence for what could have been. I'm allowed to wish that things were different. I'm allowed to want my dad to walk me down the aisle, instead of saying that he doesn't even care that his daughter is engaged. I'm allowed to want my little cousins to get dressed up and throw flower petals and for everyone to ooh and aahh because there's nothing cuter than dressed up little girls. I'm allowed to romanticize this, because I know that the planning and everything causes massive amounts of stress. I'm allowed to think that my wedding would have been different, that we would have handled snafus with laughter and grace.
I love this man.
This was his birthday - I made him wear all the ribbons from his presents.
Bottom line, I will marry him whenever, wherever, however, wearing whatever, it doesn't matter. Money or no money, family and friends or not, I'll do it because he's what matters. I just needed to pay some honor to my dreams before I let them go and embrace reality.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Initially I tossed around the idea of the two of us going to Vegas but I know I'd be upset that my friends and family wouldn't be there. We've decided to have the ceremony and the reception at our house, figuring that any money that we'd spend on a hotel ballroom or similar venue would be better spent on landscaping the backyard. Neither of us have a church home so in that sense it would be just a building to us and we both enjoy and appreciate the outdoors. It makes sense to have it in our home, an intimate setting for our closest family and friends. Additionally, I (foolishly) thought that by having it in the house I would escape a lot of the pre-wedding stress. ha. ha. ha. (that's my sarcastic laugh)
A day after I'm official I called my girlfriend to tell her. As soon as she congratulates me, she starts peppering me with questions about when, where, have we registered, what kind of cake are we having, what kind of flowers, and a lot of other stuff that got me breathing fast.
However, I'm kind of thankful that it's happening quickly because that gives less time for indecision. I won't be able to waffle between six thousand invitation designs or choose something only to have something better come out six months later. What I choose will be it and we're going with it.
It's exhilirating and overwhelming and I'm excited! We've got a theme picked out, a friend has a catering company and I've already got dress appointments for the upcoming weekends. We're going to pull this off and if we end up at the justice of the peace in our t-shirts and jeans it won't be for lack of trying.
I hope we don't though.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
That was the bloodwork that I got done last week. I went to the trusty internet to get the scoop on ovarian testing and the number I was looking for is anything below 10. Above ten means it's time to get on the proverbial stick and get serious about getting pregnant.
The week that I was waiting was so difficult. I wrestled with even having the test done in the first place - if my number was high, could I have that information and not be stressed out? I already knew that fertility starts declining at 27 and that I'm no spring chicken. At this stage in the game, an 'oops' would probably not be in the cards. However, I'm healthy, I don't smoke, I take care of myself and my age, although an important factor, wouldn't completely prohibit me.
I didn't want to delude myself - I knew I wouldn't be a four or five -- I thought probably a seven or an eight at the most. And then my doctor called yesterday afternoon.
I'm a 12.
12 is entering the infertility zone. When she told me that, my first response was, 'But I'm healthy!' I couldn't believe it - she wants me to make an appointment for a consultation with a fertility specialist. I can't believe it - I never thought that I would ever have to consider something like this. I can't believe this!!!
When I got off the phone with her, I went to my friend's cube and burst into tears. She hugged and consoled me and then I pulled it together enough to call Drew, when I burst into tears all over again. Drew was great though - he kept it together, telling me that it was going to be okay, that we'd get through it and we were going to be fine.
I was so angry - all these years trying not to get pregnant, being careful, being 'scared' that I might be, and now I'm looking at possible difficulty when I actually want to get pregnant. Awesome. Thankfully, when I got home that night I had a marathon conversation with my dad (that didn't end well) that took my mind off of things. Falling asleep was easy because I was so mentally drained.
This morning, I have a new perspective and I'm thankful it's a new day. This information is not the end of the world - it's a whole new thing that I never thought would be a part of my reality but it is. Although I can't lie - there was a mother and son on the bus this morning and I looked at them, wondering if that was still within my reach and if so, how much would it cost, in both time and money. Thankfully, I don't have anger or resentment yet and I'm going to do my best not to let those feelings get a hold of me. I just looked at them with curiousity whereas before I took that for granted. I just knew I would have kids, that it would be me sitting with my son one day. I'm not as sure as I used to be.
This information simply means that we no longer have to be careful. I don't want to do the whole taking my temperature and charting stuff just yet - I'm not ready for that. And God KNOWS I don't want any shots! I'm sending up a separate, specific prayer for that one! This has just changed our personal timeline, it has presented us with a new challenge to deal with and we have already chosen to use it to make our relationship stronger.
But the inner me just wants to throw a tantrum. I want to kick and yell that it's not fair, I'm healthy, I'm thin, I don't smoke, I take care of my body, I do YOGA! C'mon! Infertility? Me? Really? Are you sure this isn't a mistake? Didn't you mean to give this to someone else? I'm just supposed to enjoy my husband and we just make a baby - nice and easy. I'm not supposed to need to see a specialist - and I sure as HELL am not supposed to get more blood drawn!!!
Okay, you know what? I'm not claiming this - I will not speak it into existence. We're going to start trying and it will strengthen our relationship. We will go on this journey together and we will find personal strength that we didn't think we had. If I am meant to get pregnant I will. I accept this.
But I don't want to.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
When we were at the thrift store, I picked up a package of batting to add some more padding to my seat cushion. It was only a couple of bucks and it was right there. I know they recommend foam for seat cushions but I figured it would save me a trip. Next mistake: Use foam for seat cushions; batting is a pain in the ass to keep even. Observe.
Batting is a fancy word for stuffing - meaning, it's great if you have something to stuff. Something like a pillow or a teddy bear, basically something that's closed on some end. Batting is not so great for chair cushions because flipping it over on the fabric of choice and then trying to pull said fabric over said stuffing will surely result in much, MUCH cursing. I'd pull the fabric over one side and all the stuffing would just ooze out the opposite side, causing me to stop and curse before shoving the stuffing back underneath so I could staple the fabric to the plywood, bringing me to my next mistake: Don't disregard the old fabric, thinking you can just eyeball the seat and cut some semblance of a shape. Use the old fabric as a template and cut accordingly. Especially if it's patterned fabric. Especially if it's patterned fabric.
We moved the loveseat away from the desk because Maya would jump on it and snatch papers off the desk. So now it's over by the windows and the desk is safely out of reach. It makes the sitting room look bigger and now all we need are some rugs. And curtains. And more stuff on the walls. And another chair for the sitting room. And I'd really like to organize the linen closet. And don't even get me started on the baby's room!
Saturday morning I taught a yoga class at our old apartment. The guy there runs a boot-camp fitness program and wanted to bring some yoga in to promote flexibility. The first time I taught I had a good turn out and this time it was a bit more intimate. Some people don't feel like it's a workout unless you're getting yelled at through a megaphone and you want to throw up when it's done. For those, yoga is a bit tougher of a sell, but it's all good. Me and my four students had a great time and we broke a great sweat thank you very much.
The thing is, I love teaching and I love hanging out with my students afterward, chatting or answering questions. I don't want to be that person who rushes off when class is over - it doesn't feel right to me. However, I had to be at my girlfriend Betsy's house at 12:30 and I didn't watch the clock! I didn't get home till 11:30 which left practically no time to shower, get dressed and drive 30 minutes to her house. Naturally, I was late and I left the house at 12:10 with sopping wet hair. I drove up there, twirling the whole way. I wonder what that ticket would look like: driving while twirling.....
Betsy is renewing her vows next year and we all met at her house to try on our dresses and drink. I mean, try on dresses. I can't help it if there was wine there! It would have been rude not to partake! I love that we have our dresses but she's still not sure about food, flowers, music or venue. Who cares - we had an awesome time playing dress-up, laughing, laying on Betsy's bed ooohing and aaaahing over her dress, complimenting each other, drinking wine, and of course, taking pictures!
Sunday we went to Lowe's (again - they should have a frequent shopper program or something) and got stuff to hang pictures. We're mounting the tv above the fireplace so we moved all the living room furniture around and the living room looks amazing! Before, we just wanted to get stuff in there and situated and we didn't give much thought to placement. But now, it really feels like a living room and the space feels so much bigger. And now that the tv cabinet is no longer needed, it's in the dining room and we're going to repurpose it. When I saw this post on Dusty's blog, I got ridiculously giddy. I told Drew we could either make it a baby cabinet and put it in the second bedroom or make it a bar and put it in the dining room. He chose bar. *scratching my head*
Since Lowe's is fast becoming a weekend tradition, we often find ourselves hitting the Sonic on the way out from Lowe's. We're wearing a path in the road - Lowe's, Sonic, grocery store. This Sunday was no different. Armed with our giant Limeades, we went to my favorite place - the Mexican grocery store!
They have a lot of brands that you usually only find in Mexico or Mexican grocery stores. They sell a lot of the candies that I used to eat at my grandmother's house and every time I see them I smile. Bimbo, Fud, and Lala are pretty popular Mexican brands and the names alone make me smile.It's a total family affair and it's not uncommon to see huge families shopping together, kids piled into the shopping carts and even hanging off the sides. It's cute, but it makes it somewhat difficult to navigate the aisles. This is not a get-in and get-out kind of spot. It's an event, an adventure and there's even a mascot!
And to top it all off, you can even get shoes and hats at the grocery store. This one doesn't have a jewelry store though - that would be awesome.And no Mexican grocery store is complete without prayer candles. You can pick those up right next to the masa for making tamales and head one aisle over to get your pinata too! I love Sonic Sundays and the Mexican grocery store!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
So, in therapy we were discussing, deconstructing if you will, what I'm looking for in a job. I really can't stand people who say 'do what you love and the money will follow'. In theory it's quite a pithy little saying, provoking thoughts of butterflies and skipping in meadows of money -- in life you have bills and they must be paid. We came to the conclusion that I value my time more than my money. We have several female executives at my company which is very empowering and uplifting, but they are always in the office. One of the girls in another department who's not even an executive told me she rarely gets home before seven every night and her son goes to bed at nine! While they all make much more money than I do, I don't care. My evenings and weekends are always mine, no exceptions ever and I like it like that and I want it to stay that way.
To make a long story short, combining my skills and interests and desire for career stability with a decent paycheck, I came up with teaching and nursing. Both are family-friendly, have decent pay, very stable, and have (somewhat) flexible schedules. Yeah, you may have to put in overtime, but in those fields it's more the exception than the rule. I started looking into both.
Nursing was first up. I looked into programs in the area, compared costs, and mapped out a tentative timeline to get the associates degree. Once I was a nurse, I'd go on to get the bachelor's and just work my way up -- it would be my career.
Minor problem -- I'm not the greatest with blood, other bodily fluids, or needles. No big, I'd get used to it. How bad can it be? Ummm, yeah.
I had to get some bloodwork done today. I went in first thing this morning - it was such a minor thing that I didn't even have to make an appointment. 'It's just one tube, come on in and we'll fit you in whenever.' I got there first thing this morning, for my one little tube of blood. I walked in all nonchalant, casually flipping the magazine, pleased when they called my name relatively quickly.
Small talk with the nurse, she complimented my outfit, I graciously thank her, and we walk back to the little blood-drawing room. More small talk and the blood-drawing guy comes in. He's a very nice guy and he begins preparing his stuff with ease -- he's definitely done this before and so far I'm doing okay.
Me: Just so you know, needles make me nervous, haha (that's my nervous laugh), so I'm just gonna go ahead and turn the other way, haha.
Blood dude: Oh don't worry, I got you. You'll be just fine and it'll be over with before you know it. *snap* (that's the rubber band he ties around my arm. Breathing gets a little shallower - mine, not his) Can you turn a little more towards me please?
Me: Sure, sorry, haha, I'm just a little nervous.
Blood dude: It's okay, you'll be fine.
AND THEN, with the speed of a jungle cat he rips open the thingy that looks like a butterfly with a LONG ASS NEEDLE on the end and pounces on me! Okay, maybe I exaggerate a little but he WAS fast. That's what did it. I stopped him.
Me: Waitwaitwait! (with the hand gesture and everything. Who am I kidding - I nearly jumped out of the chair) I'm so sorry, you just came at me kind of fast there.
Blood dude: It's okay, you're fine. We'll take all the time you need.
If he weren't so nice, I don't think I could have done it. However, it's because he was so nice that I couldn't keep it together. I started crying like a baby, do you hear me? I was all hyperventilating, tears streaming down my face, feeling like a complete retard because I couldn't handle a dumb needle. I kept saying 'I'm so sorry' over and over again because I felt so bad for not being able to just go in there, let him stick me, get the blood and get out. That was my plan, that's what I told myself as I was walking to the office -- yeah, not so much.
I ended up having a nurse come in and stroke my hand while he stuck me in the other arm while I cried and hyperventilated the whole time. One tube of blood, people. Geez. They even gave me a lollipop afterwards (which I ate with no shame - it was watermelon flavored). I was really embarrassed and when it was over I tried to just get up and leave, reassuring them that I was fine. When I stood up, my knees gave out just like in a movie. I went ahead and sat back down for a second until I could really stand up. My head was all spinning, my lips were tingling, my knees all wobbly. From one tube of blood.
I'm gonna go on ahead and look up those requirements for teaching.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Now I don't care two shakes about any kind of naysaying. You can say it was a coincidence. You can say we got lucky or that no one else would want it. I. don't. care. My baby spoke it into existence - his positivity was strong enough to make sure that we were the ones who got it and now it lives in our home. It's beautiful and I'm so thankful that we have similar style and preferences. We've since gotten some tapers for the other candlesticks and it's awesome and I can't wait to get curtains and finish our dining room. At first, Maya wasn't impressed but she found the chairs quite handy Sunday night when she used one as leverage to snatch a piece of pork from Drew's plate! You'd never guess by looking at her that she's skilled at the snatch-and-grab.
When I left for work this morning I lingered lovingly over our new table. I just love how the house is coming together and how we're making a home. It's so cool.