Sunday, May 23, 2010

Oh, Is Today May 23rd...

If it is May 23rd that means that it's my big day. Yup, my birthday. My 26th to be exact. But this time next year don't ask me how old I am because I might just say 26 all over again. I'm not exactly feeling the whole age thing. So my birthday... not impressed? Well, it's also my college graduation day. What is the chance of that happening? Even if the odds are good, I couldn't believe that these days fell onto the same day.

I wasn't prepared to have to wake up at 6:34 a.m. (I have a weird habit of the time I wake up having to end in the number 4... same thing when I put something in the microwave. Weird I know.) in order to wake up for graduation. I worked until 2:30 a.m. all by my lonesome. The girls at work gave me a card and a cake. It was definitely sweet. My hubby stopped by with a little present for me which made me all teary eyed. Then when the phone rang at midnight at my job, I knew it was him. I knew he'd be calling to wish me happy birthday. What I wasn't expecting was for him to sing it to me. Another teary eyed moment. It was the sweetest, cutest thing ever. God, I love this man! Thank you.

It was pretty steady, so I went home pretty tired. Decided to shower when I got home instead of the morning, but couldn't sleep afterwards. It felt like Christmas when you're a kid. I knew something was coming but I didn't know exactly how it was going to go. I think I slept a solid 45 minutes. Woke up pretty refreshed which kind of shocked me. I think it was the adrenaline of the day to come. Tried to get all prettied up in my Calvin Klein shirt dress and head out of the house (I looked pretty hot). The hubby left with my mom and step-dad because he couldn't wake up and move fast enough for my liking. I just wanted to get the day started! Driving up to New Paltz I couldn't help but think that this would be the last time I would be making this drive. It was kind of sad, but then I thought to myself, "when you become a big time author, they'll invite you back for one of those snobby honorary degrees..."- Yup, I've got high hopes for myself.

The nice thing about a graduation/birthday day is that you get double the cards. And double the love. My mom gave me a gorgeous centerpiece for our table and lots of balloons. It has my favorite orange lilies that we had in our wedding flowers. And of course, cards to make me cry. I received cards from my mom, my mother-in-law, my step-dad, and my dad and his fiance. Hubby also got me a jewelry box that plays music. I used to love my mom's little piano music box. When I was a kid I would just sit there and watch it worked. I thought it was the coolest thing, so amazed by how it worked. Now I have my very own. He's too good. And to top it all off, he got me a card. I know it seems like a little thing. But I love cards. I think cards are just perfect for every occasion. Looking back on them make me... teary eyed. Surprise. He's not a big card giver, so I loved it. He tried to find me a graduation one, but as he said, "I was going to get you a graduation card too, but they didn't have any that said "wife""— too cute!

After a very long graduation ceremony, where I talked to a fellow journalism student about our lack of job opportunities, I finally became a graduate. One of our professors showed up. An adjunct who has only been with the school for a year or two. That was disappointing to me. I mean come on, we dedicated years to you and what you taught us, give us some love!... I took off 4 years and I did it my way, but look mom, I graduated from college! With no debt! Not too shabby.

We all had lunch together in our hometown. We tried really hard to go to our favorite place, Nina, but they were closed for a private party. We tried to go to another restaurant that was nearby, they're closed on Sundays... it was not our day for a good meal. But we were so hungry that I think anything would have worked. So we all made small talk about how tired we were and how great I am... haha, just playing... but it was MY birthday, so sometimes that might have come up. It was nice having my mom and dad being cordial to each other. I'm like a little kid, I love having all of my family together. It's such a nice feeling.

It was a great birthday. You know it's your birthday when you get 80 some facebook messages telling you so... you really know it's your birthday when the people you love come together on your special day and get up at 6 a.m. ish on a Sunday morning to celebrate your accomplishments with you. I guess if the 26th year is just as good as the 25th one, these birthday things could be something I look forward to.

Thank you to everyone for making me feel special on my special day.

More than anything my love, you make me feel like a princess, I've never felt more loved than I have since I've been in your arms. You are the best present He ever gave me.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Just Another Day...

When I woke up today I felt alone. Very alone. It was strange. There was no one there to pounce on me or give me wet little kisses. It was strange. Then I remembered that when I was in half sleep/ half wake mode, the hubby told me that he was taking the puppy with him when he went to get his hair cut. He's been going to the same lady for like 20 years of his life, so he wanted to take our little pup for a little visit. It was weird to wake up in a quiet house now. I used to love it, now it just feels odd and uncomfortable. Granted, I just had to clean some poop off of her little butt now that she's home, but I enjoy taking care of her, she's worth all the little frustrations.

Oh, and the hubby says that our pup is a chic magnet. His words, not mine. Everyone flocks to her, how could you not?! She's just the cutest thing.

"I think I'm going to tell the guys at work who are single that they need to pick up one of these dogs," says the hubby. "If I was single, she'd be great for picking up girls."

Nice babe, nice.

The best part about our pup is that even the biggest of guys become all mushy when they see her. She's pretty perfect. Just try to go to a pet store with her in tow. You turn a five minute trip into an hour excursion. But I guess just like a proud momma, I become a proud puppy mom and smile from ear to ear like I gave birth to her. Yup, I'm crazy in love with her...

On a side note I thought I was going to die on Thursday. Seriously.

I was really scared.

It was at the dentist. The dreaded dentist. Remember how I had to find a new dentist to do my fillings? Well, I found one and finally got the appointment set. They started with the shot of novocain and then after about 10 minutes started drilling. Then I twitched from a little pain I felt. They gave me another shot of novocain. Then the room started spinning. Like tilt a whirl spinning. Like being on a rollercoaster that just goes in circles and up and down. I couldn't focus on anything. My eyes were bugging. I felt queasy. I asked the assistant if the room was suppose to be spinning like it was. She sounded worried, then she gave me water. It didn't help. They did my fillings and all I could think of was, don't get sick, don't get sick. I was so scared I would infect my tooth! Now, there I was, feeling like I was dying and all I could think about was how not to puke.

They finished and asked me how I was feeling. I think I mustered out a "not good, not good at all." The room was still spinning so bad and that mind over matter thing to try to get myself to not puke, wasn't working anymore. I had the assistant lady help me to the bathroom because I couldn't walk on my own, and I got sick. And got sick. Then they put me back in the chair and put my head all the way back. Then they gave me oxygen. They took my blood pressure which was 138 over 90 and my normal is 90 over 60. Nothing was helping. It just took time.

I had to have my mom pick me up. One of my customers saw her helping me to her car and thought I hurt my leg. Nope, just couldn't walk because I was over drugged. Or something. I'm pretty lucky to have a mom who will drop everything for her daughter. She brought me home and sat with me and took out the puppy for me. Then she went and picked my car up and brought it back home. Yup, she's a keeper.

The next day the dentist called to see how I was feeling. I thought that was nice. Seeing that I almost died. She wanted me to have a good experience at the dentist. I think we didn't achieve that this time. Maybe next time. Maybe I should floss more often? Maybe that will help keep me out of her chair other than for a cleaning. I never hated the dentist, but I never liked them either. Sketchy people I tell you. I'm sitting in the chair dying and she's talking to her assistant lady about hiking in Colorado and about her girl friend who's ex is now her dental supplier and whether or not she should tell her girl friend about it. I was waiting for her to ask my opinion. Hmmm... those dentists, I tell you. Sketchy people.

Friday, May 21, 2010

I'm a Little Bit Country...

Since I met my hubby I've been so lucky to have had great concert experiences. I loved concerts when I was younger, but it was mostly Backstreet Boys' concerts. But I still remember my first concert at Orange County Fairgrounds: LeAnn Rimes. I'd love to say that I had a great time, but I can't say that. The concert was great, but I went with my Dad, his new wife and her family. To say the least, I didn't feel comfortable, but I ended up being amazed by LeAnn on stage at only a few years older than I was. It made me wish that I could be that girl. But alas, I didn't have parents like LeAnn's who pushed for her to be a star. My parents just wanted me to be a kid. And I don't think that I had that star potential when I was a kid. The world was such a different place, there weren't Taylor Swifts popping up every where you turned.

Since I was a kid, concerts have made me so emotional. I get involved in the songs, I get caught up in the stories. I wish I was lucky enough to be up there and then I question why I never tried. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe everyone feels the music deep down in their soul and that's why we all love going to concerts. To feel the bass, to feel the fans, it's just all a great experience. I always wonder how it would feel to be up there and have thousands of people singing your words back to you. I think I'd cry through every song.

We've seen John Mayer, Keith Urban, Carrie Underwood, LeAnn Rimes, Kenny Chesney, Travis Tritt (this one was with my mom since hubby and I just started dating and he couldn't take off of work, or so he says), James Otto (ugh, worst opening act ever!), Brooks and Dunn, Taylor Swift (as an opener), Faith Hill and Tim McGraw, and our latest concert was Alan Jackson with Chris Young and Josh Turner as the opening acts.

I have to say, this was the best concert ever! The opening acts were amazing; they were a show in their own rite. Amazing. Great voices. Big songs. And very classy. The opening acts knew their role. They knew that their careers were nothing compared to that of the legendary Alan Jackson. And he did not disappoint. He was amazing. He performed pieces of all the older songs and gave the story behind them or why/how they were written. I couldn't help but get teary eyed when he sang Drive, Remember When, and Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning). Just amazing. I can't wait to go back. I could see him every year and not be disappointed. Hands down, the best concert we've seen together.

People should appreciate country music so much more than they do. It's about people and the stories of their lives. Mini stories set to music. I love country music. I can't wait for Brooks and Dunn in June— they are amazing and I'm so sad to see them part ways. It'll be a family affair: my hubby, my mom, stepdad, dad, and his fiance. I love concert season!

Thursday, May 13, 2010

I'm a College Graduate...

Since I've been dating my hubby, I've been going to college. In a few weeks, on my 26th birthday, I will finally be graduating from college. It's a strange feeling. A part of me wants to go back for another major. Now isn't that the craziest thing? Me? The person who dreaded early morning wake-ups for early morning classes and the long commutes has actually considered going back for another round. I'm pretty sure that I've got that crazy idea out of my head, but it has crossed my mind. I know there are no jobs in the journalism field so I've considered another, but then again, I love to write, so I think I'll stay true to my first instinct. But don't quote me on any of this because you never know what crazy idea I'll come up with in the next few years.

I hate to say this, but I think college was probably the easiest thing to do when it comes to schooling. I mean I dreaded the general education credits and I have hated a teacher or two or the assignments I was given, but to get good grades in college is a lot easier then trying to get them in high school. I'm not trying to sound crazy, so hear me out. In high school you have to take classes everyday, five days a week, but when you're in college you could have one class one day and maybe three on another day... Hello?! Come on now, after getting up at 6:30 a.m every day in high school, college is like easy street. Granted, you might get stuck with the shitty teacher and you might pull a couple more all nighters, but in general, it's an easier schedule, that's for sure. I would always love hearing kids at college complain about their work load. Come on, I work a full-time job and I go to school, and I commute. If you just stop partying every night, maybe your work load might get a little easier. Anyway, end of my rant, I just can't believe it's over. Amen that it is over, but it's going to be very strange. No whining about assignments I don't want to write, no complaining about professors that shouldn't be teaching, and no long commutes. It's a little strange. And I like it.

So what do I do with my time now that I'm a college graduate?

Well, after the 10 a.m. commencement ceremony, which for me starts at 8:30 (UGH!)- I'm pretty sure we'll go out to lunch. It is my birthday. Although soon enough I'm pretty sure that I will just have to stop celebrating these birthday things because I can't really handle that my age keeps going up. I mean seriously, when did I become an adult? Because I'm pretty sure I'm still my mother's princess and that I'm still the baby, so when did I start thinking about having one of my own? How does this all happen?!

So back to what I'll do with my time now that I'm a college graduate.

Well, I'm writing. Little by little I've started my book. I'm pretty happy with that prospect and with what I've written so far, but I just wish I had like five days in a row to just sit and write all day long. Hopefully, I can keep the flow going. I'm so afraid to lose it because I'm out of school. I can so easily fall into a pattern of reading books that I haven't been able to read, catching up on old t.v. shows that I haven't been able to fully enjoy, or now, enjoying my little pup that just brings a lot of happiness and a lot of work! I mean come on, how many times can I possibly take the little one to the vet? Her poor little eyes get infections because she's too small to fight them off. Why does she get them? The vet says if she even gets dust or dirt in her eye, poof, infection. Vet bills and visits, making special trips to pick up her food, and loads of her laundry! Now, try to tell me that I'm not a mother! I've got a lot that I'm going to try to do. I just hope that I can get my book finished. Then, I hope to get it published. Then, I hope that it makes money and then I can just live a life of luxury. Sigh. Oh, wouldn't that just be peachy?

So I'm a college graduate with no prospect of really having a job. Thankfully, I have a job. But not one that has anything to do with my field of study. But isn't that how it happens more often than not? Isn't it sad? I can't tell you how many of us were in graduation practice yesterday talking about how there are no jobs and how many times I heard, "hello unemployment line"— it's just sad. You work your butt off, for what? I know I feel great about my accomplishment. I just hope that I can have it pay off with my book. At least I know that on the sleeve it will say something about me being a college graduate. I guess that makes it all worth it. And I get to see my family smiling when they call my name.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Oh to be a Mom...

Now, I'm not a mom. Officially. But I am a great babysitter to a lot of customers at my job, so a lot of the time I feel like the mom of 20 or 30 drunk eight-year-olds. It's kind of crazy. I see these people more than I see my own family. I care about them, but then there are days that I can't stand the sight of them. Is that bad? So I can understand what it's like to be a mom. Sorta. Granted I'm not changing them, but I do clean up after them, feed them, scold them, and put them in their place a lot of the time. I'm pretty sure that this is God's way of showing me the ropes and helping me realize whether or not I'm prepared for motherhood.

His other way of preparing me? I've been blessed enough to be puppy mom. It's the closest thing I have to stay at home motherhood. She's beautiful. She's smart. She's perfectly imperfect. She takes right after her mom! Then there are the times when I want to just run away from her because she just won't listen! I'll go and soak in the bathtub just to have a moment to myself! (HaHa) Luckily with a pup I can put her in her little crate and leave to go workout or go shopping. I'm pretty sure I'd be arrested if I did that to a child. Luckily, I have my mom who is an amazing grandmother to her grandpuppy. When I have to go to work, she'll stop by to feed her and take her out, or she just comes by for some quality time with our little Luna. She loves her like a real grandchild. It's actually pretty damn cute to see. I can't wait to see her with her real life grandchild. Someday. Maybe. Still debating.

I love my pup and I love having her here to cuddle with and play with. I talk to her even though she has no idea what I'm saying. If I cry, she crawls up to me to kiss my face and cuddle up on my head. She knows when some thing is wrong. She's such a great addition. But I'm sure it doesn't compare to real motherhood.

I might never understand a mother's love, but I do know how much a daughter can love her mother. I witnessed it growing up when watching my grama with my mom, my aunt, and my uncle. I know how much I love mine.

I couldn't love the way I do without the love I experienced growing up as a child. I love my mother more and more each day. I respect her for how far she's come in life and how far she brought us. She is an amazing woman. I can only hope that if I'm blessed enough to be a mother one day, I'm just like her.

I understand a grandmother's love because I grew up with my grama helping us, watching us, and babying us when we needed it. She would do anything for us and proved it time and time again. She was a blessing that we wish was still here to share in the little moments of life. If you can measure love by how much a person is missed when they're gone, then she was loved enough to fill the oceans and the sky.

Mothers are amazing. They are a blessing. Hopefully we're smart enough to realize it when they're here and not when they're gone. I hope that if I have a child they love me as much as I love my mom and as much as she loved hers.

From the times when we make them want to scream, to the times when we make them cry, a mother's love is constant. It's something we all depend on. It's what we thrive on when we're children. What was the point of making pictures in class unless it brought a smile to mom's face and a tear to her eye when she put it up on the fridge? Moms make it all worthwhile.

So to my mom. Happy Mother's Day. You are the best friend a girl could ever have. You are a gift from Heaven and I was blessed to have you handpicked for me from God. I Love You.


Thursday, May 6, 2010

I'm Not Whining, I Swear...

You know those things that you never want your significant other to talk about, unless it's a conversation that you start or you start together? Like finances, sex, kids, etc. Well, the hubby and I never have a problem talking about any of these things. Sometimes we'll bring up these types of conversations, if we're in conversation mode. I feel comfortable talking to him about everything. He knows when I'm uber crampy because he knows when my time of the month is coming before I even know. It usually goes like this:

Me: "Ugh, I'm just not feeling right, I'm all moody, why do I get like this?"
Hubby: "What day is it? Oh, yup, it's about that time."
Me: "Really? It feels like I just had it. Hmmm, Ok. Why can't you have it this month?"
Hubby: "Sorry babe, can't help you there."

He ends up buying me a large box of stuff and I'm always really thankful that I didn't need to head out to the store in my condition. I mean come on, I'm hurting here! How could someone expect me to shop for myself? I think it's his way of saying he's sorry for not being able to take my pain away. I then end up spending the next few days miserable on the couch with a heating pad, complaining about everything in the world and wondering why everyone has to annoy me. I try to convince myself that this time is a perfect excuse for a sick day. But I never follow through. So I suffer and let everyone know I'm suffering. I'm the worst possible woman in the world. Could you imagine me pregnant? Oh Lord, help my husband handle my craziness if that ever happens.

The point is, we talk about everything and anything.

But a few days ago, he kind of threw me off.

After a long day at work, I came home to him eating six English muffin pizzas. Six of my favorite childhood food, other than Mac-n-Cheese. And I, being good, didn't ask for one, even though I suddenly and secretly craved one. Instead I ate some of the cheese that melted onto the pan. He asked me what I was doing. I'm eating the cheese I said. Thinking it was a silly question. He didn't like my eating the cheese. Hey, even if he wanted it, he had a bag of mozzarella cheese on those little, delicious English muffin pizzas, I was eating what was left of it! That was it, enough said. At least I thought so.

The next day he randomly says to me, "You know what I've noticed? I think when you stop exercising, you also start eating badly."

Me: (looking up from my daily Facebook fix) "Umm. Ok?"
Hubby: "I'm just saying, it's what I've noticed. It's like an all or nothing." (I quote even though I don't quite remember the exact words due to the shock I was in, so forgive me.)
Me: "Well, Jen was away on vacation and I was busy with work and besides, you don't know what I do when you're not here."
Hubby: "Yes I do, you always say what pain you are in after a workout."
Me: (evil grin) "Not always. Do we have to talk about this..."
Maybe it's just me, but all of a sudden I felt like I was being attacked for my cheese eating the night before. Now let me get this straight. I am a self-confessed cheese fiend. I could easily eat a block of cheese in two days time. But it's random. Sometimes it's peanut butter. It's always a toss-up between the two. Right now, I'm on my cheese kick, so sue me!

Isn't it an unwritten rule that husbands never talk about their wife's eating habits or weight? Unless of course, the wife brings it up.

In my head I was coming up with all these reasons on why he was wrong. Why he shouldn't ever have mentioned it. I mean, seriously, was he calling me fat?! Because in my woman mind, that's what I totally thought. I was not happy. I didn't want to talk about it. I was in defense mode. I was trying to prove him wrong and trying to show him that he was wrong for ever bringing it up. But in the end, after thinking about it. He's right. It is what I do.

I mean I love that we talk about everything, but this is such a touchy subject for me. When it comes to my weight, my eating habits, my laziness or my exercise enthusiasm, I don't want to talk about it, unless I want to talk about it. Otherwise I feel totally judged. I start waking up thinking, "God, please let me not eat the cookie at the birthday party because everyone is going to look at me and think, 'Why is the fat girl eating the cookie? No wonder she's fat!'" Even though I'm not really fat anymore. Just a little fat. It's so hard because in my head I will always be the fat girl. Always. It's something that the hubby just doesn't understand. Well, he does, he has had his vices as well, but you know how it is, you always think your problems are bigger than everyone else's.

So, hubby, I'm trying. I'm trying to kick this all or nothing mentality. It's OK if I have a cookie one day, as long as I don't turn it into a box. It's OK to have something not organic every once in awhile. I'm trying to realize that I don't have to try to be perfect, I just have to try to have a normal relationship with food and with exercising. To be healthy I need to work out everyday. To be healthy I need to eat food that comes from natural plants, not manufacturing plants.

The hubby was right and I was wrong. I have tried to come up with excuses for myself because that is what I've always done. It's hard to change at this stage. But I've been doing pretty good since I met him. My weight has been in a happy place for awhile now, give or take five pounds either way. I've been loving my workouts for the past year. Consistency is the key to everything. Thankfully the workouts have been the stable thing (unless my trainer goes away on vacation! how dare she!). But food is my downfall. I'm picking up this book after reading these key notes in Redbook magazine:

1) Realize that the size of your body isn't just about food.
2) Understand that weight loss isn't everything— but it is something.
3) Go ahead and feel bad.
4) Believe that you deserve happiness.
5) Eat when you are hungry.

These seem so silly. But isn't that how it goes with eating and fighting the battle? It all seems so simple. Exercise and eat healthy. Well, duh. Of course. But can't it be easier? This article says, "If you eat when you're not hungry, you're using food as a drug. And the question is: Why?"

I think I had an ahha moment.

I guess common sense is really the best medicine.

So even though it was hard to hear and even harder to say that he was right, I guess those unspeakable conversations that piss wives off, are really just a needed reality check. Our partners in life know us better than anyone else, so I guess it's not a bad thing when they call you out on the stuff that secretly plagues you. So kuddos to you hubby. You've got my number and the name of my game. But I feel pretty confident in the woman I am and the woman I have yet to be. So every once in awhile I might be a little moody, a little lazy, or want two slices of pizza instead of one, so just realize that I am human and I'm not perfect. The best part is, I'm finally realizing it too...


Related Posts with Thumbnails