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Reading My Mind

Written on May 12, 2008 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage, Quirky Me

Despite watching years and years of daytime/self-help-style talk shows like Donahue, Oprah, and Dr. Phil, and learning that you cannot expect people to read your mind, this is exactly the trap I set for my ever-suffering husband yesterday. Despite my husband’s kind offers to take the kids out for the day to give me a break or to do anything I could reasonably imagine, all I could muster in response was a mournful and sigh-laden, “I don’t know.” **shrugs and pouts**

I swear I don’t know how he stays married to me. I am insufferable!

In some sort of defense of myself, I do have several reasons why I didn’t jump at Tate’s offer to make himself and the kids scarce. First, I’ll admit to being completely ashamed that I’d rather not be around my children on Mother’s Day. I feel like I must have some sort of mothering flaw to want to send my children away on the the ONE day that celebrates mothering them. Aside from my inherent flaws, I also know, well I at least hope, that solitude will not be my solo goal for future Mother’s Days. One day I won’t spend every waking second with them and I’ll WANT to spend a special day like Mother’s Day with my kids.

I was also afraid to take Tate’s offer of solitude because I was afraid that I’d answer too gleefully. “YES! Go AWAY. Go FAR, FAR away and don’t come back for hours. Leave me the hell alone! Amen! I don’t have to spend the day with you SUCKAS! I’m FREE! FREEEEEEEE!”

So instead I moped and sulked and heavy sighed. My logical self kept telling my asshole self to just come out and tell Tate that yes, I would really enjoy spending the day alone. My asshole self kept telling my logical self that Tate should JUST KNOW that I want to be alone, since I was obviously sending him all sorts of signs.

Thank goodness my logical side gave my asshole side a swift kick in, well, the ass.

I finally told Tate that it would be really nice if he and the kids left for awhile. Without complaining, Tate got the kids ready and they left for the afternoon. He even took them during their afternoon nap, which in and of itself makes Tate a SAINT.

Amen.

While they were gone I caught up on this season of the best of trash TV, The Hills, and watched a few episodes of WE’s High School Confidential (thanks for tip on this show Shelly!). I also peed blissfully alone which was truly thrilling.

When they returned, St. Tate informed me that he’d made the executive decision to make me a fabulous dinner. Without any help from me, he grilled ribeyes, roasted asparagus, and made a spinach salad with warm bacon dressing. For dessert he made ice cream floats. Then he cleaned up the kitchen and folded laundry all by himself while I enjoyed a glass of wine.

Apparently St. Tate actually can read my mind.

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Wonder Dorks

Written on April 15, 2008 by Jennifer in confession, marriage

Every night before the kids’ bedtime, the whole family relaxes on the couch and watches one episode of Thomas, Max and Ruby, or Wonder Pets. I’m not sure who likes the cartoons more, Carson or Tate and me.

Here’s a snippet of a recent conversation between Wonder Dork #1 and Wonder Dork #2:

Tate: “Can we watch both Wonder Pets episodes? I haven’t seen the one where the they save the kangaroo.”

Me: “Oooh! It’s a really good one! It’s kind of a tear-jerker, though. It all works out in the end, luckily. They have celery on the barbie when they find the kangaroo’s mommy.”

We looked at each other and realized to our horror that any semblence of cool that we liked to pretend still existed had at that moment gone up in poof of smoke.

Since we had already lost our membership in the cool club, Tate and I belted out all the lyrics to the Wonder Pets songs.

(Just shut up. okay?!) (Don’t pretend that you don’t tear up at Wonder Pets occasionally and sing along, too.) (And I’m sorry if I gave away the ending to the kangaroo episode. I probably should have given a spoiler alert.)

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On Orders From Swistle

Written on January 8, 2008 by Jennifer in Little Monkeys, marriage, Mommydom, playing along

Swistle asked us how we found out we were pregnant. And what Swistle’s asks, Jennifer answers.

Tate and I decided that it was time to make a baby. I don’t leave a lot to chance, I’m a planner, see. I decided to start charting and charting I did. Obsessively. When I wasn’t pregnant the first two months, I made an appointment with my OB/Gyn. (There are some known fertility issues between Tate and myself that I really cannot discuss here.) I took in my meticulously completed charts. Tate had even made one up on an Excel spreadsheet because he’s a D.O.R.K.. I showed my chart to my doctor and told him how concerned I was that I STILL WASN’T PREGNANT AFTER TWO WHOLE MONTHS OF TRYING. WAAH, WAAH!

The doctor was probably trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes or shooing me directly out the door, but he was very kind and let me know that I had nothing to worry about. “It’s completely normal for perfectly healthy couples to take up to a year to get pregnant. You’re fine. And really, you don’t need to chart to get pregnant.”

But I wanted to be pregnant RIGHT NOW. I was ready RIGHT NOW. And the charting book said it shouldn’t take longer than four months if we were healthy?? What was this crazy talk about taking a year???

I got pregnant the next month.

It was day 30 or 31 of my cycle and I decided to take a test. I waited until morning since I am a direction follower, especially when it comes to being pregnant or not pregnant. The directions also said to wait five minutes before reading the results. Five minutes when you want to be pregnant feels very much like five decades, but since I was afraid that if I didn’t follow the directions, I wouldn’t be pregnant, I waited five minutes. After the brutal wait, I carefully took the test out of my drawer where I’d hidden it (so that I couldn’t peek) and saw two barely visible pink lines. I had to squint to even see them.

Surely this was a defective test? Barely visible=Defective test OR not pregnant, right? I knew from having obsessively read the test’s directions, but both Tate and I were very skeptical, certain that there was an error.

I had to go to out of town that day for a friend’s birthday party. Since I wasn’t sure if I was pregnant, I didn’t drink or eat lunch meat or feta or breathe that evening. When I got home the next day, Tate was waiting for me at the front door holding a pregnancy test. We decided to be crazy rule breakers and I went and took the test right then (at 12:00 in the afternoon) and watched the little window as the test did it’s magic. Within seconds, there were two VERY visible pink lines. To be sure, we stared, dumbfounded for the full five minutes just to make sure the second pink line didn’t disappear. It didn’t.

We sat on our bed together, hugging and laughing and crying. It was one of the best and scariest moments of my life.

For Ella, we charted also, but I was much less obsessive with charting. We got pregnant the second month of trying. I secretly took the test one morning (around day 33 of my cycle) since I had a been a raving lunatic the previous week and suspected I was pregnant. It was about 5:40am, Tate was in the shower. The test was immediately positive. I started pacing back and forth in front of the shower, scared, but less so than last time, ecstatic, amazed, and impatient for Tate to finish showering. Finally he got out of the shower and asked what I was doing walking around the bathroom. I showed him the test and….I don’t really remember his reaction. That makes me sad.

I love that feeling, right after finding out that you are pregnant, when you can’t believe that you’re really pregnant and there is a tiny, wee human growing inside. The feeling is best before you tell anyone, it’s your little secret. Before we told anyone, I would look around me and wonder if anyone could just tell I was with child by my “glow.”

So tell me, or go tell Swistle, how did you find out?

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‘Twas the Night Before Christmas Eve Eve

Written on December 23, 2007 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage, Men?

‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve Eve
And all throughout my house
Dog hair and toys had taken over
I shrugged and said, “It’s time to get soused.”

The wine glasses were filled to the brim with care
in hopes that a cleaning fairy soon would be there
With Tate wrapping presents and I frantically dusting
I suddenly yelled, “This bathroom’s disgusting.”

When over the monitor there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my duties to see what was the matter
Away to the nursery, I flew in a flash
Then realized it was nothing but that show on TV where choirs clash.

Tate mentioned something about my “moon” and my breasts
I just rolled my eyes at this wonky sex attempt, as you probably guessed
He retreated in defeat and went back to wrapping
I finished up cleaning and yearned for some napping

With an arm full of gifts, Tate came downstairs
I rummaged through the gifts to catch any spares
One for Carson, for Ella, for Tate, and for Nanny
For Papa, Uncle J, Aunt M, and for me

A calendar, a keychain, I already knew
Two more boxes, surprises!
How exciting!
Phew!

My eyes how they twinkled!
This Christmas would be merry!
Even though my butt is all dimpled
and my fat rolls are like jelly

I spoke not a word, but went straight to work
I tugged on Tate’s hand and said, “you deserve a perk!”
We went back to the bedroom, for cuddles and kisses
Tate was quite pleased to get all of his wishes

And I heard him exclaim as he drifted off to sleep,
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I got you surprises to keep.”

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Balance

Written on November 28, 2007 by Jennifer in marriage, Mommydom

The night before we left Missouri to return home to Alabama, a 12+ hour trip, thankyouverymuch, both of my children decided that sleeping was for sissies and that screaming their lungs out was what all the “cool” kids were doing. Tate took the first shift with Carson, trying to calm him. After over an hour, I reluctantly went in to rescue Tate since I could hear the tone in his voice getting angrier by the minute. He seemed both relieved and irritated by my rescue attempt, but I think just my presence helped to settle both Tate and Carson.

I was able to return to bed, and Tate finally got Carson to sleep about an hour later and returned to bed. Literally within seconds of lying down, Ella started fussing. I heard Tate mutter “DAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMIIIIITTTTTT,” under his breath, and since he’d just spent the last two hours with Carson, I got up with Ella to calm her. She finally fell back to sleep after what seemed like four hours, but was probably something like 20 minutes.

Being a person who desperately needs her beauty sleep, I was so incredibly pissed when after about 30 minutes, Ella decided to wake up again. This time I muttered something (NOT under my breath) about throwing her out the window and letting her fend for herself.

“At least it will be quiet in here and we can finally sleep,” I huffed.

Sensing my obvious frustration (Tate is quick like that), he offered to take this shift with Ella. Unfortunately, she wanted only Mommy and Mommy’s boobies to fall back to sleep. I ended up feeding her and getting her back to sleep around 3 AM, an hour before our alarm was set to go off.

Both Tate and I were exhausted on our drive home. Even the tiniest of irritations could have sent each of us over the edge. Somehow, we were able to take turns having our own tantrums while the other remained calm, cool, and collected.

Tate and I seem to know how to balance the other’s mood. He (usually) seems to know when I’m at my wit’s end and ready to snap. Even when I adamantly deny needing a break, he’ll take over kid duty or cooking duty or whatever duty, and let me simmer down. The same thing is true when he is obviously about to lose it. I sweep in, take over, and give him the much needed break. Often, I feel somewhat resentful when I have to be the sane one, since I spent the majority of everyday attempting this sane facade. I suspect he feels the same resentment when he’s just returned from a stressful day at work and immediately has to take over when he walks in the door and finds me teetering on the edge of chaos.

Somehow we maintain this completely necessary balance. We’re a good team, Tate and I.

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Reminiscing

Written on November 19, 2007 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage, Men?

The other day when I was finishing up the final post about how Tate and I came to be, I read through several pages of old emails that we’d sent back and forth.

I copied a few of them and re-emailed them to Tate with a note saying something about “remember when you used to write me these sweet emails.”

That night, we reminisced about the things we used to do in early love.

“Remember when we could sit and just stare at each other for hours?”

Oh yeah. I do remember.

“Remember when we used to talk for hours on the phone and never run out of things to talk about.”

Yeah (said dreamily).

“Remember when we didn’t fart in front of each other?”

[Insert Beavis and Butthead laughing]

“Remember when you didn’t nag me so much?”

Ahh, those were the days.

“Remember when I didn’t mind it when you touched me?”

[Sigh]

“Remember when we would rather do it instead of sleep?”

[Verrrrry heavy sigh]

“Remember what is was like before kids and we could sleep in, leave at a moments notice without packing for an army, or when our lives weren’t dictated by naps?”

Meh. This life is far better.

***********

I currently have very limited access to a computer. I last checked my email on Saturday at 3:30, cannot view my site on this computer, and am having severe withdrawal symptoms that include interacting with people face-to-face rather than on the computer.

See you all in a few days.

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In The Beginning, There Was Beer. And Lots of It. Part 3 of a Love Story

Written on November 18, 2007 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage, Men?

Need to catch up? Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. The prequel to all this is here.

Tate and I began emailing back and forth. Our email topics included thrilling subjects such as hockey, the weather, and our weekend plans. Nothing romantic, just friendly get-to-know you kind of stuff. In November, I was surprised to get a call from Tate inviting me to a party with his friends that he was coming back to Missouri for. Luckily my very busy social and hot date calendar wasn’t already filled (ha!) so I jumped at the chance to go and spend the weekend with him.

There was never an awkward moment between us. He was kind and considerate, always making sure to introduce me and (not surprisingly) keeping me well supplied with beer. A lady never kisses and tells, but since I’ve never been accused of being a lady, lemme tell ya, he was an excellent kisser. And that’s all I have to say about that.

I told my mom after I got home, that I thought he’d be the guy I would marry.

Here’s the email he sent me after the weekend. I have saved every email from him from November 9, 1998 until now.

Jenny, Hello and good morning. I am glad to hear you had a good weekend, because I had a wonderful time. It was so good to finally get to see you after so long. The only negative to the weekend is the fact that it went so fast. I did not want you to leave on Sunday. I guess that is a bit selfish, but I enjoyed your company. It’s good news your drive back went well. Thank you so much for doing all the driving this weekend. [My friends] started in on me soon after you left, but it was expected. I knew they were just chomping at the bit to rib me while you were there. I am surprised that they didn’t tease you anymore then what they did. My flight was quick and painless mostly because I slept the entire flight. I hope you do call this week, but if I have not heard from you don’t think you are off the hook because I may have to call you. I work second shift all this week 3p-11p. I usually get home around midnight my time. Jenny thank you again for coming to Rolla this weekend I had a great time. Talk to you soon. Tate

Within 10 days, the emails included words like “darling” and “sweetie.”

It took very little time for us to become a couple. Whenever he could, Tate came back to Missouri and we spent time together. In January, I flew to Knoxville. By February we decided that when I graduated that May I’d move to Knoxville so we could be together.

Even with my lackluster long distance relationship history, I knew that this time was different. We just WERE meant to be.

Reading through the old emails makes me feel that butterfly, ooey gooey, sloppy in love drunk feeling. I miss that.

This concludes only the beginning of our love story. There are many, many years to go.

***********

In reference to yesterday’s post about my multiples names, I am somehow not offended when my blogging comrades call me Jen. I just don’t like it when I’ve recently been introduced to someone (as Jenny or Jennifer) and they just start calling me Jen.

There. I feel better now.

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