In good times and in bad

I’ve been married now for 6.5 years. Not going to win any awards for longevity at this point but we’ve made is significantly longer than a lot of people I know.

There’s a point in your late twenties/early thirties when you look around at all the happily married couples you know and think how lucky you are that you’re surrounded by all these strong relationships because surely they’ll all last.

Then the first couple splits up. That makes you think “okay, they’re the fallen comrades. Surely the rest of us will survive.”

But slowly, steadily marriages disintegrate around you.

It’s disheartening really. I mean, if *they* can’t make it, how on earth will we???

This past year I’ve seen too many people I know going through separation and divorce. Many of our closest “couple friends” have hit Splitsville and now we have very few couples as friends.

My marriage is far from perfect. We have much that we need to work on but no matter how much I’d like to punch him with my ineffectual fists sometimes; I know for certain that I don’t want to split. I think that most, if not all, of our problems can be fixed. He thinks so too.

Will we make it for the long haul? I sure hope so.

Besides ..... I don’t know who else would put up with me!! :)

Life with an Alien

Oh my. 14 year olds are like aliens.

Was I like that?

I suspect I was but I also suspect that it all makes sense in a 14 year old brain.

I didn’t sign up for life with a step daughter. Well, I kinda did. I did know about her existence and I did know that she would sail into our lives at some point. But until it actually happens it’s all just an abstract possibility. You know?

I feel a little petty when I get annoyed at the small things. I mean, she lived almost 14 years without a Dad. Do I really have a right to get annoyed that she only can figure out the “ON” part of light switches?

We went out for dinner last night. It was after a rather hectic errand running session and I really, really could have used a glass of red for my frazzled nerves. I didn’t get one though. I hate paying $6 or $7 for a glass when I can get a nice bottle for $14 at the store.

But I really, really wanted one.

Got a ginger ale instead.

I mean, we’re not exactly the Bank of C@nada, you know? But Miss M? She’s orders a smoothie that costs almost as much as a glass of much needed red. Then she orders the most expensive thing on the menu. Steak and Scampi. And then she’s too full to eat the steak! Are you fucking kidding me?

The rest of us had pasta and she orders this and can’t eat it???

I was pretty annoyed. We don’t have a lot of extra money and going out for dinner is a treat. When we go out we try to practice a little moderation.

This happened last time we went out too. She filled up on the big appetizer tray that she asked us to order and share. Then she barely touched her expensive dinner and add-on salad bar.

I’m being petty right? I know it but I’m annoyed.

Any advice on how to deal with a ready made teenager?

I'm good at rambling

My son turns 2 this Friday. If I pause to think about this, I’m floored. How did I get to a place where my kids were about to be 4 and 2???

Babies, no more.

Sometimes I feel wistful about not having another baby. About not being pregnant again. But usually I’m completely okay with it. I can barely handle 2. I’d be out of my mind to add a third to the mix.

My mind goes in different directions these days. I’m starting to look forward. To think outside my little family unit. What else do I want to do? What else do I want to be? Where am I going from here?

It’s strange. Very strange. There is life after having babies!

And when I realize this fact. It becomes painfully obvious how I’ve neglected myself. I have let myself go. Too many shortcuts taken with my appearance. Too much focus on what I need to do to just get by rather than looking my best.

There’s lots of little superficial things. My nails are ragged. My skin is dry. I don’t take time for much make up etc…

But then there’s also the big thing. Literally. My weight is beyond me. And I can’t seem to get into the frame of mind to do anything about it.

I’ve gained back the 20 lbs I lost on Weight Watchers last summer. My fat clothes are tight. Some are too small. I’m feeling pretty down about it. So down that I need to go and eat some chocolate to make me feel temporarily better about things. Ridiculous and vicious circle. I have to find my way out of it.

It’s hard to know where to go from here.

A big part of me feels like I’m done with blogging. I feel like I have nothing left to offer my community. But I still read and sometimes comment when I find the time to click over. And if I read…. And if I offer comments shouldn’t I still contribute? Still participate?

I don’t know.

That’s what I’ve been mulling over for the past few months. That, and other things.

I’ve changed jobs. In essence, I’ve gotten a “promotion”. My own office. More freedom. More pay. This is all good. But it meant that effectively, I was working 3 jobs for the month of December. My old job, my new job and training my replacement.

It was a December I’d rather forget and that’s saying a lot considering how much I usually love December and Christmastime and all that it entails.

Plus I was sick. And I’m sick again. Just run down and susceptible to all the bugs out there.

So that’s where I was.

The question is where do I go from here?

Moo.

Actual text I sent to my husband last night:

"It's official. I'm too fat for Halloween."

Fuck. I've never ever had such a hard time finding something to wear for Halloween. But nothing - NOTHING - looks good on me. Or alternatively: nothing I try on makes me feel good.

I was on WW a few months ago. But somewhere along the line I lost my resolve. Anyone know where I can find it?

I'm still down a few pounds from the 20 that I lost earlier this year but I feel fatter than ever.

How low do I have to feel? How fat do I have to be before I manage to do something about it???

Bleck.

Whew!

I feel like as soon as I catch my breath something else happens to make life interesting.

We've had a bit of a health issue/scare with Chicka over the past week. I won't go into details here but it's had us at the hospital for 2 evenings and a day in the past week.

In the grand scheme of things is pretty minor but it could involve surgery down the road if things don't improve. With the emotional and physical toll that something relatively minor has taken on me, I cannot possibly imagine what it must be like to have a truly sick child.

My kids are crazy and wacky and utterly exhausting but man, am I ever grateful that they're generally healthy.

Something else that added to the chaos that is my life is that I met my stepdaughter over the weekend. I'm happy to report that it went really, really well.

She's cute and sweet and a typical 14 year old girl. She giggles and talks up a storm. There's a few things about her life that worry me but they stem from the total lack of structure, rules and general morals that are inherent in her home.

It's not her fault. I just hope that she takes the right road. Maybe it's because my parents were very strict with me when I was growing up that I worry about the attitude of her mother.

Kids should be encouraged to do the right thing. Ultimately they will choose their own path but isn't a parent's job to point them in the right direction?

I don't ever want to be as strict as my parents were. I don't ever want to shove my head in the sand like they did. I don't want to be naive. But I don't want to endorse reckless and unhealthy behavoir either.

It's a fine, fine line isn't it?

So here's a question: when someone asks how many kids I have do I say 2? 3? 2 + 1?

Life is crazy. Who'd have ever thought I'd be a stepmom?!

And we danced.

It was Girls' Night Out on Saturday. OMG, how long has it been since I actually went OUT with girlfriends?? To a bar? To drink and dance the night away?

I honestly can't remember.

It must have been since before I was married because I don't remember ever wearing my wedding rings to a bar before. We had fun. I watched (and helped) my newly single friend meet guys.

But I have to admit that I felt a bit on the old side. At one point some tall, young hottie walked by me. I didn't take much notice till the lady that happened to be standing next to me at the time elbowed me and started yapping at what a nice butt he had and so on and so on.

To me, she was a cougar. Around 50ish, dressed provacatively and checking out the livestock. But why was she talking to me? Did I look like a cougar too? Was I a comrade in arms, so to speak?

Ug. I'd hate for anyone to think I'm on "the hunt" or something. Not that there's anything wrong with going to a bar if you're older and/or single. It's the predatory feeling from her that I didn't like.

On a positive note, I did get asked to dance. I politely declined but it was sure as hell nice to be asked. :)