Coffee talk

I am not a morning person. I hate mornings. I have no use for mornings.

In other words, mornings suck.

Unfortunately for me, most jobs cater to morning people so I have had to adapt my natural sleeping patterns and lifestyle to fit into the world of morning people. I have to get up earlier than my body wants to and go to bed at a "reasonable time." I have to be productive at a time when my brain hasn't even turned on yet. I have to commute when it's still dark outside. And I have to go to the gym at 5:30 in the morning.

After a day of work, I have no motivation to go to the gym so I've decided to go before work. Unlike my gym in Charlotte, however, my gym is not around the corner from my house so I can't go back home to get ready for work. Instead, I schlep a bag of clothes to the gym and get ready there. Side note: Somehow I never feel as clean when showering at the gym as I do at home, but I'll live. And my office has a door for the really bad days :)

What I don't like is that I don't have my morning get-ready time with my husband. Because I'm not a morning person, I don't generally like to talk to anyone in the morning. However, after a couple of car rides and some gym time, I usually wake up enough to have a conversation - nothing deep of course, but more than the conversations when I first wake up, which consist mostly of grunts and whining, with an occassional, "Shhh. No talking." Getting-ready conversations were basically check-ins. My husband and I would talk about our plans for the upcoming day, what to have for dinner, thoughts about the upcoming weekend, reminders to set the DVR, etc.

With my job, we drive separately to the gym, do our separate workouts, and go our separate ways when we finish. I head to the women's locker room to shower and get ready for work, and he drives home to get ready. We don't talk much, if at all, and I miss it. We've tried to adapt to our new schedule; he calls me while he's driving to work and we usually arrive at our respective offices around the same time (because his commute is 5 minutes and mine is 55 minutes). But it's not the same as having that in-person conversation.

I never thought much of those conversations before, but now that we don't have them, I recognize how important they were in our daily lives. Those morning check-ins ensured we were connected daily, and ensured our lines of communication were always open. More importantly, however, our get-ready time was an opportunity for intimacy, because we were physically present with each other. It wasn't intimacy in a sexual way - get your mind out of the gutter! - but because we shared a bedroom and a bathroom, we were constantly in each other's personal space. While that can be annoying at times, I generally enjoyed being close to my husband. I show and feel affection through physical touch, and so does my husband. Sharing our space while we were getting ready was another way for me to feel connected to my husband, just as our morning talks helped me feel connected to him.

I hate Valentine's Day

I have long hated Valentine's Day. It's not because I believe it's a Hallmark holiday. It's not because I'm single and don't have anybody to share the day with. I just

I don't remember many Valentine's Days before junior high, but I distinctly remember eighth grade. We had a Valentine's party during school - yes, just like the first graders do. We made card boxes so we could pass out those cheap valentines, and my teacher made a rule that we either pass them out to everyone in the class or pass the out to, in my case, just the girls. I suggested we forego valentines and a party done by our room mother and just watch a movie or have free time in the gym, to which my teacher told the class "[RHoC] doesn't want any valentines so you can give them to everybody but her."

Of course, that's not exactly what I said, and certainly not what I meant. But my teacher was a bully, and she wanted to punish me for challenging the status quo, so I shot back, "That's fine with me. I won't be giving them either, and I'll skip the party." And I held true to what I said. I didn't make a box. I didn't participate in the games. I didn't do the craft. I did my algebra homework instead and then read a book. I still got a few valentines, and I thanked the people who gave them to me, but otherwise I refused to acknowledge that it was Valentine's Day.

That same year, Valentine's Day fell on a Friday and we had a school dance. We were allowed to invite people from other schools, and one of my friends brought a boy from her former school. He developed a crush on one of our other friends, which led to them kissing on the dance floor, and me consoling the first friend in the bathroom for an hour. The second friend didn't think she had done anything wrong because she hadn't pursued the boy, and my two friends never reconciled. I remember thinking that one friend had just had the greatest Valentine's Day of her life, and the other one had the worst of her life, and that's just the way Valentine's Day worked. Not everyone has someone on Valentine's Day.

And for the record, the boy wasn't even cute. At all.

Valentine's Day just got worse in high school because it was a constant reminder of who had a special someone and who didn't. I attended an all-girls school for two years of high school, and it was tradition for boyfriends to send flowers and gifts to the school. My first year, girls were called down to the office all day to retrieve their tokens of affection and flaunt the fact that they had boyfriends. The jealousy from the other girls was palpable. Yes, Singles Awareness Day was alive and well in my high school. The second year, the school saved all the gifts until the end of the day so the single gals didn't have to be reminded of their singleness throughout the day, just when they walked by the office on the way home.

The reminders of having a special someone wasn't exclusive to boyfriends and girlfriends, however. I also had flower sales and candygrams to remind me of how many friends loved me too. Because that's the BS that Valentine's Day lovers try to sell - that Valentine's Day is about love in general, and that includes your friends and your family too. So my schools would sell different color roses or carnations - red for love, yellow for friend, and white or pink for secret admirer - and we'd carry those around all day as a status symbol. Really, who thought this was a good idea in high school? It was completely Singles Awareness Day - those who had a boyfriend or girlfriend carried a red flower and nobody else did - but it was also Popularity Awareness Day too. The popular kids had multiple yellow flowers to represent all their friends, while the outcasts had a couple or none at all. Those damn flowers were the equivalent of "Kick Me" signs, and yet another reminder that not everyone has someone on Valentine's Day.

I've had a romantic someone on Valentine's Day for the last fifteen years, but that hasn't translated to liking the holiday. My school experiences definitely shaped my perspective, but my opinion on the holiday also has to do with my expectations for romance. I don't think I've mentioned it before, but I'm a princess. My princess tendencies don't come across in my everyday life, but they certainly do in my romantic relationships. I expect to be put on a pedastal, and expect to be treated like I am the best girlfriend/wife ever, and I expect to be wooed daily. And while these princess tendencies appear to lend themselves to Valentine's Day, they actually directly contrast this day. Why? Because it's too easy.

Think about it: Valentine's Day is designed for idiot men to get romance right. Every store is advertising some sort of appropriate Valentine's Day gift. All the restaurants feature romantic Valentine's Day menus. Flowers are foolproof. Even blogs and magazines give ideas for perfect Valentine's Day presents. It's just too easy and really requires very little effort - buy flowers, buy chocolate, make reservation, etc. It's prescribed and tired. And as a princess, prescribed and tired is unacceptable.

I'm lucky because my husband spoils me daily. We go out to eat often, and we still "date" a few times each week. And if I really want to buy something special, my husband will get it for me or I'll just buy it for myself. I'm far too practical to take advantage of that fact, but I know it's true. I don't need a special day to express my love for my husband or to feel loved by my husband. We are intentional about expressing our love for each other - through words or actions - and I feel it every single day.

My practicality is another reason why I dislike Valentine's Day: Flowers don't cost as much as they do on Valentine's Day. Neither does that box of chocolates. Or that prix fixe menu. Every store and restaurant is taking advantage of the poor schlubs who are only romantic one day of the year and are therefore pressured to be romantic on this one day of the year that they're willing to pay $60 for flowers that only cost $19.99 the rest of the year. It's insane, and I refuse to be part of it.

I prefer my way: Take Valentine's Day off. I have no expectations of my husband on this day so he can't fail to deliver, but the other 364 days of the year, he is required to treat me like the princess that I am and he never fails. He gets to be romantic in his own way without some unrealistic expectations brought on by some "love holiday," and I get to feel loved and adored every single day! Oh sure, we've done things on Valentine's Day or said it was for Valentine's Day, but really, we'd do it anyway. For example, last weekend we took a road trip to DC to see our alma mater play basketball and said it was for Valentine's Day. Really, if it had been January 14th, we would've done it anyway. Calling it a Valentine's Day trip helps others understand and categorize us.

I'm also very aware that there are many people who don't have a Valentine, and much like my relationship with my husband, I don't like to wait for some prescribed holiday to make sure that these people feel loved. As much as some try to incorporate friends and family into Valentine's Day, I think the day is really Singles Awareness Day for a lot of single adolescents and adults. The love of a friend is not the same as the love of a partner, and it feels patronizing to associate friendship and family with Valentine's Day. I'm the same friend on February 13th as I am on February 14th so drawing attention to our relationship on Valentine's Day is counterproductive. And because I'm the same friend, I think it's important for me to acknowledge that my friend who wishes she had a boyfriend on February 11th may feel sad that she doesn't have one on February 14th and giving her extra attention isn't going to change that- as though me loving her makes up for the fact that she doesn't have a boyfriend. I'm just that fabulous! Right. I love my family, but it's not the same as the love I have for my husband. Sorry family. 

So I'm going to have a Monday, and you can have whatever day you want. Just please don't shove your love down my throat, unless you're prepared to do it every other day as well.

Put my money where my mouth is

On my one-year anniversary of moving to Charlotte, I reflected on how I'd changed during my year of being a housewife in Charlotte. In that post, I noted that my priorities had shifted and that I didn't think I'd ever move again to benefit my career unless I was certain my husband would benefit as well. I've told my husband something similar many times, and have also told him that if an amazing career opportunity presents itself to him and we have to move again, I will support him 100% and follow him wherever he goes.

Well, it may be time to put my money where my mouth is.

I have not been offered a job anywhere else, but I did just start a job in Charlotte. My husband, on the other hand, was offered a job in Wisconsin where we used to live. It's an exciting opportunity for him, and one that seems to be a natural fit for his skills and experience and personality. I couldn't be happier for him or more proud of him.

It couldn't be worse timing for me.

As I mentioned before, my job isn't my dream job, or even especially challenging. It is a job, however, and I like what I'm doing. And I'm very good at it. The thought of leaving my job after just a few weeks, of starting the job hunting process over again, of potentially being a housewife again ... it's a little overwhelming. I'm not sure that I want to do it again.

And I hate snow. It was 60 degrees here on Wednesday. I doubt that will happen in January in Wisconsin.

My husband is not happy in his job here, and I don't blame him. He's taken quite a few hits and he's frankly outgrown his job. He deserves better and he's earned the opportunity that he's been offered in Wisconsin. Even if we decide to stay in Charlotte, I doubt he'll stay at his company. I don't want him to stay there. But that opens up a door of even more unknowns because we don't know when he'll find something new and if he'll even like it if he does.

But I just started my job.

But we would be closer to family and friends which is very appealing.

But I love Charlotte. There I said it. I love Charlotte. Charlotte has been good for me. Granted, this may all change now that I'm not strictly a housewife, but thus far, I'm still enjoying my life in Charlotte.

I don't know what it will be like in Wisconsin this time around. I don't know if I'll have a job, or if I'll be satisfied being a housewife in Wisconsin until I can find a job. I know I won't have my country club, but I will have other things that I don't have here, like my family and friend's houses to go visit instead.

My husband and I have a lot to think about and talk about this weekend.

ADHD, medication, and motherhood - Part 2

In Part 1 of this post, I gave some background about my struggle with ADHD and the conflict I felt between taking medication to advance my career at the expense of becoming a mother. Even though that post has no comments, I've received more feedback and emails about it than any other post I've written. I interpreted that to mean that I touched on a couple of important issues for women, but these are issues that we're still not comfortable discussing publicly. For that reason, I think this is going to be an issue I'll be revisiting often, but hopefully from a different angle each time.

This post is going to pick up where I left off last time and fill you in on my thought process while I was making my decision. I was considering whether to take medication for my ADHD. I left off wondering whether a PhD and a career in academia would be fulfilling or if I would regret not having children. I sought out advice and guidance from others, but encountered more frustration than support.

I'm a reflective and instinctive person by nature, so even though I talked about my struggle with others, I knew that my answer would have to come from what I was feeling and not what I was thinking. On an intellectual level, I knew there were women who balanced work and family. I knew medication could be a short-term solution and that I could stop if I were to get pregnant or wanted to get pregnant. I knew I was legally entitled to disability accommodations. I also knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, that ADHD is real despite the public misperceptions. Intellectually, I understood this.

My intelligence and rationality couldn't overcome my gut feelings, however. I knew there were women who balanced work and family, but I felt like my ADHD would never allow me to fully balance the two in a way that would work long-term. I knew that I could stop taking medication to have a baby, but I've always felt that I will have difficulty getting pregnant and that "medication break" could extend for years. I also knew that even though I had a right to accommodations, the faculty looked down on me for asking for them and they treated me like I was dumb or incompetent. Even though I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, I felt ashamed.

On the other hand, I didn't have the biological drive toward motherhood that I thought I should or that I felt I should. Kids bugged me. That's not entirely true. I adore my niece and nephew (they're the greatest kids ever but I'm sure I think that because I get to spoil them, feed them sugar, and send them back to their parents) and I enjoy spending time with my friends and their kids. I don't enjoy the temper tantrums or the child-centered conversations or the general adjustment of my life to suit the needs of kids. As much as my breeding friends assured me that having children was worth all the sacrifices, they often expressed jealousy at my life and resentment toward theirs, especially when I got to do things they wished they could do, from the simple, like going out to nice dinners whenever I wanted, to the extravagant, like going to Spain. I couldn't ignore those feelings either. I love my friends, but I did not want to become them.

All of these issues created the confusion and the conflict I felt, but my husband was really the one underlying force behind my decision-making. He has always been incredibly supportive and encouraging of my career path, but I also know that he wants children. In a lot of ways, he is a big kid and for a while I was concerned that I would end up parenting my husband and my child, rather than have a partner in raising a child. That concern was misguided. He will be an amazing dad and any child will be lucky to have him as a father.

My hesitations had more to do with his job demands than any concerns about his parenting skills. His job is incredibly unpredictable in terms of hours and travel, so I can't always count on him to be home at a certain time. This is annoying but generally fine when it's just the two of us, but if there was a child involved, I don't think it would be okay. There could easily be days when he wouldn't see our kids, leaving me as the primary caretaker for the kids. Of course I could have help - I would need help - but I also know that help doesn't come cheap and I'd probably be working to pay for a nanny. I know my work would suffer because I couldn't be at every meeting, go to every conference, or travel to collect my data because I wouldn't have the flexibility. One of us would need to have a job that had consistent hours, jobs that didn't require a fifty-plus hour time commitment each week. I knew faculty jobs - especially tenure-track faculty jobs - wouldn't meet this criteria. I knew my husband would never be satisfied in a job that fit that criteria either.

As much as I believe in and am thankful for women's liberation and equal rights, the reality is that marriage isn't about equality - it's about partnership. Sometimes one person has to make a sacrifice in order to do what is best for both spouses. In our case, one of us was going to have to sacrifice our career ambitions in order for us to have a family. When I honestly looked at the dual-career couples in my field who were making it work, I saw that one person had a stable 9 to 5 job and the other had the PhD, and I knew that would never be my husband and me if we continued on our current paths.

So in addition to the concerns I had about taking medication and what that meant for me professionally and personally, I also had to decide if we did have a child, could I ask my husband to give up his career so I could pursue mine, or was I willing to give up mine so he could pursue his?

Stay tuned...

Christmas cookie tradition

I'm having a serious problem today - I want to bake.

I'm feeling this compulsion to bake because it's Christmas and that's what housewives do at Christmas. Every single blog I read has confirmed this fact. I am supposed to be baking cookies for my family, and if I was a really good housewife, I'd exchange them with other housewives. My family is supposed to eat these cookies and drink hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies and stare at the tree and feel Christmasy.

This is a problem for a couple of reasons. First, I can't bake. Second, I have nobody to bake for which translates to my husband and I consuming dozens of cookies all by ourselves. His metabolism may be able to handle it, but mine certainly cannot.

I really do like to bake Christmas cookies, and I am a master of the sugar cookie - or at least decorating the sugar cookie. However, cookies don't travel on airplanes all that well, so I had no plans to bake any this year. And honestly, it's part of my strategy to not gain weight this holiday season. I exercise, but I'm not one of those people who tells myself that if I run for an extra twenty minutes I can enjoy a cookie. I know there are recipes that are lower in fat or calories, but those aren't ones I want to make or eat.

But somehow it just doesn't feel like Christmas without getting covered in flour and frosting.

This is the one time of year when I really, really miss being in the Midwest. I don't miss the cold at all, and I really don't miss the snow either, but I miss being close enough to my family that I could drive to their houses on Christmas with my cookies. I didn't worry about shipping presents, or whether I was going to fit all my clothes in a carry on suitcase, or last minute changes to our trip itinerary. When I lived in Wisconsin, I lived a mile from one of my sisters, so we could do all sorts of Christmasy things together.

In a lot of ways, this move to Charlotte has been similar to getting re-married in that we've had to rethink and renegotiate our Christmas traditions. I didn't shop on Black Friday for the first time since I was thirteen, we didn't decorate the outside of our place, I'm not making sugar cookies, etc. We've had to figure out how to make quality time with both families while working around airline schedules and prices. I'm not able to do the things I've always counted on to put me in the Christmas Spirit so I'm being challenged to come up with new traditions and new ways to celebrate the Christmas Season - like visiting the Biltmore. I enjoy these new experiences, but I still miss some of the old traditions.

And I miss the smell of freshly baked cookies.

Happy Anniversary

December is a favorite month for one obvious reason - CHRISTMAS! But December is also special because of my husband's birthday and also because we started dating in December - fourteen years ago today.

We met in September and quickly became friends, but it wasn't until December that we finally started dating - during finals week of our first semester of college. Great timing, right? It sure made finals memorable - in a good way!

Though I share personal thoughts on this blog, my memories of that day and my feelings as I reflect on that day feel incredibly private, so I'm not going to share any of those thoughts today. Sorry. But I will say this - I am incredibly lucky. I have a wonderful, supportive, doting man who has been by my side for fourteen years, who has loved me despite and because of my flaws, who treats me like a princess every day, and who I love very much.

Happy Anniversary, sweetie!

Love role models

We had more drama unfold yesterday with respect to our Christmas plans. There's nothing I can do about it, so I'm choosing to let it unfold how it will and trying to stay out of it. However, the drama got me thinking about marriage and relationships and how we learn to love.

I had good role models for relationships. They weren't perfect by any means, and as I became an adult I learned how imperfect they really were, but from my child and adolescent perspective I witnessed good examples of how to love and be in love. I learned about support, devotion, forgiveness, romance, sacrifice, laughter, affection, and commitment. I also learned the importance of partnerships and of continuing to date my husband after marriage. Most of all, I learned to never take love for granted  and to continually work on my relationship and my marriage.

I feel incredibly lucky that when the time was right for me to fall in love, I knew how to love and was capable of loving someone. I certainly wasn't perfect and I'm still not, but I knew how to open my heart to someone else, become vulnerable, and give myself to another person. I learned that from watching my parents and grandparents, and from being loved by my friends and my family.

Our most recent drama serves as a reminder to me that not everyone knows how to love unconditionally, and that being married for a long time doesn't always translate into being in love or knowing how to love. I hope that my husband and I can serve as love role models for our friends and family. Perhaps we can start with a couple who should've been role models for us.

Lego Harry Potter (or "How did you do that?")

After a day of football, homework, and cleaning out the closets, my husband and I were not in the mood to go anywhere on Saturday night, but we still wanted to do something. We tossed around a few ideas of things to do, but ultimately rejected all of them. A few weeks ago, I suggested buying a Playstation3 game that my husband and I could play together, and my husband was all for it. Unfortunately, finding a game we are both interested in and that I can actually play is a lot more challenging than it may seem. My gaming skills peaked with the original Nintendo. However, after much research, I decided that I could probably manage the Lego Harry Potter game.

Saturday night we walked to Walmart to buy it. Unfortunately, we waited for more than twenty minutes for someone to open the case and then gave up and walked home, and then watched Invictus for the fourteenth time. Thank you, HBO.

However, I was still determined to get a game that we could play together, and Sunday afternoon we went to another store to buy my - I mean, our Harry Potter game. And after watching a half of awful Carolina Panther football, we decided to play the game for a little while. That little while became two hours. It's a lot of fun and completely addictive.

We paid a good chunk of change upfront, but we now have hours of entertainment ahead of us. I'm sure I'll play the game on my own, but I really like that we have something we can do together. It's fun to figure out all the tricks and the spells, and laugh hysterically when we just can't do something. It may seem silly, and it's definitely a little childish, but I'm excited to have something we can both enjoy on our lazy nights in.

The Corporate Wife PSA

This morning, I watched my husband and twenty of his male co-workers play flag football. The game was actually a charity fundraiser, though I'm not exactly sure how that worked - I think everyone that played contributed $10 and then the organizer gave the money to A Child's Place. Regardless, a bunch of out of shape, banker-type guys decided to get together on a beautiful fall day to play football.

I decided to go because I have an irrational fear that my husband is going to end up in the ER if I'm not there. I suppose it's not entirely irrational - he once went to a weekend-long bachelor party and ended up in the ER(to get a few stitches) after taking a basketball in the face. But when I think of him playing flag football with his co-workers, I'm more concerned about broken fingers and ankles, pulled hamstrings, and torn ACLs (my biggest fear) because most of these guys are weekend warriors. For the record, my husband is in great shape and left the game mostly unscathed - he may have a bruise or two but nothing serious. His co-workers, however, are going to be sore for the next week. And I did have to buddy tape a dislocated pinky finger for one of his co-workers. That was kinda gross.

Anyway, I wasn't the only wife on the sideline. The organizer's wife was there taking pictures, and a couple of other girlfriends and wives arrived later. After a few minutes of small talk with the women, I wanted to be out on the field with the boys. Instead I took out my Kindle and pretended to read.

Maybe it's because I've been married for eight years and with my husband for fourteen years, maybe it's because I'm in my thirties, or maybe it's because I don't really relate to women very well, but I felt like I had nothing in common with these women. I could go on a rant about what they were talking about and bore you with all the details of what was said, but I was bored and annoyed by them and I don't feel that you should be too. I'm nice like that.

But let me just say this - I've been a corporate wife for eight years and I've learned a few things about how to behave when we get together with work people. It's one thing when we're with co-workers and their families from different departments - people who are more like friends and colleagues - but it's completely different when we're with supervisors or supervisees. Even though we may be out of the office and in a more casual setting, the boss is still the boss. And the boss's wife (or husband) will pass along any information that is shared to the boss, and that information can influence any future social invitations. And believe me, those social invitations are important - probably more important than they should be. But that's the corporate game.

So here's my PSA for all the corporate girlfriends, future corporate wives, and current corporate wives - it's never okay to discuss your sex life with your boyfriend's boss's wife. I can't believe I actually have to write that, but after hearing the conversations today, apparently not everyone knows this. It's especially not okay to discuss your sex life when you live in the Bible Belt, where not everyone shares the same carefree attitudes towards sex on the first date or even premarital sex as, say, a 22 year old, recent college grad from Florida State. Hypothetically-speaking of course. And frankly, if any of the wives of the people my husband supervises said anything like that to me, I'd make sure my husband knew what was being said about his employee - not because of my own religious or personal beliefs, but because I don't like when strangers tell me about their sex lives. My husband probably wouldn't care, but in the corporate wife world, it would make a difference. Can you imagine taking a client and his wife out to dinner and discussing getting drunk and having sex in a hot tub? Seriously, I still can't believe I have to write this. It's not okay.

Now, I may not have left a great impression because I ignored the conversation and pretended to read while they were talking. I own that. But none of those wives and girlfriends have significant others who work with my husband so I'm not particularly concerned. And I did notice when the guy dislocated his finger, and I hiked back to the car to get the tape and an instant ice pack out of my husband's soccer bag.

And guess who noticed and thanked me and my husband for that? The CFO.

I guess sometimes it pays to be an anti-social, irrationally fearful, corporate wife.

Giuliana and Bill

Do you watch this show on the Style Network? It's my new favorite reality television show. I watched the first two seasons off and on, but I am hooked on the third season.

The first and second seasons focused on being newlyweds, adapting to their new living arrangements, building their house, etc., but also provided glimpses into their professional lives as well. The second season also touched on starting a family and difficulties getting pregnant, with Giuliana unsuccessfully undergoing IUI.

Thus far, the third season has focused on getting pregnant. Giuliana went through IVF and got pregnant! She and Bill bought their "family home in the suburbs" and began planning for life with kids, but then they suffered a miscarriage at eight weeks. That episode, and the one that followed, were just heartbreaking to me. Both Giuliana and Bill were hurting, but they expressed it in very different ways. Bill threw himself into working on the house, trying to be encouraging and positive, while Giuliana reached out to friends and saw a therapist to address her sadness. And I admit to tearing up a bit when she asked her therapist, "Why are we being punished?"

I think it's really brave of them to talk about infertility and miscarriage on television. They've said that they want to erase the stigma associated with miscarriage, and I hope they do. I know so many people who have gone through this horrible experience, and they've kept it private or have felt ashamed, but they're not alone. I hope that the show will help others in the same situation.

My partner

I met my husband through the girl that lived next door to me my freshman year of college. I'd seen my future husband a few times during the first few weeks of school, but I didn't officially meet him until the day he took my neighbor out on a date. The girls on my floor had signed up for an outing sponsored by my residence hall that night, so my future husband and my neighbor went out to an early dinner and then went back to her room to hang out until it was time for all of the girls to leave. It was during their hang out time that I officially met him.

I was getting ready to go out and had accidentally smudged my eyeliner and mascara all over my eye. I needed a Q-tip to clean it up without having to start over completely. I went next door to my neighbor to see if she had one and was surprised to see my future husband there, hanging out. We were introduced and we talked for a few minutes. We were very comfortable with each other and our interaction felt completely natural, like we'd known each other for years. I left my neighbor's room knowing that I had just met the boy I was going to marry.

I fully expected that my future husband and I would become friends, and maybe a few years down the road we'd start dating. Because I knew in my heart that he was my soulmate, I wasn't in a hurry to enter a romantic relationship with him, but I did want to have him in my life. His relationship with my neighbor was over in just a few weeks, but my future husband and I became friends - very close friends. In just a couple of months, our feelings of love developed naturally from this friendship and we started dating.

It's been more than fourteen years since that day I met my future husband, but I still remember that feeling when I knew he was the one I was going to marry. It wasn't like a romance novel, movie, or television show - I didn't see a heart appear around his face, hear music play, or feel some sort of insane physical chemistry. Rather, it was a feeling of peace and calm and comfort. I had found my partner.

I was only eighteen when I met my husband, and I still had a lot of maturing to do to really understand how to be a partner to someone. I'm still learning. But we learned it together, and we're still learning it together, and we'll continue to learn together.

Whenever I feel frustration about where I am in my life, I remind myself of what it was like to meet my husband all those years ago, and how I felt to know that I had found my partner in life. I remind myself that it's not just about me and doing what is best for me in my career, for my happiness, or for my life, just as it's not just about him and his career, his happiness, or his life. It's about us - not both of us individually, but us as a single partnership. We, he, and I need to do what is best for us.

The sum of our marriage is definitely greater than its parts.

"It's fun being married to me. I've decided."

I've known my husband for fourteen years, and we've been married for eight. We've experienced a lot during these years together, but the one constant amidst all the chaos in our lives has been laughter.

We laugh a lot.

We have serious moments of course, and we have a lot of moments where neither of us wants to talk to the other - not out of anger, but out of a need for quiet. But in between those moments, we're laughing.

My husband is incredibly funny, but also sees humor in a lot of situations. When he starts laughing, and I mean really laughing, it's impossible not to laugh with him. His laugh is loud - or boisterous as he prefers - and absolutely contagious. Movies are funnier, television is funnier, and life is funnier when he's around.

We make each other laugh too. My mere existence is funny to him at times - the way I sleep, how I brush my teeth, my facial expressions, etc. have all cracked him up at some point. Like I said, he sees humor in a lot of situations. But we also giggle through stupid conversations and jokes and teasing. I think it's because, after fourteen years, we know each other so well that we instinctively know what will amuse each other, and can instantly engage each other in a conversation that will lead to laughter. These conversations are rarely anything that another person would find funny, but they always remind me how lucky I am to be married to someone who can make me laugh.

We've dealt with some very stressful situations over the last couple of years, and I know I haven't always handled things in the best way. However, I know that our ability to laugh through the tears and joke through the pain is the reason our relationship has gotten stronger despite the adversity. Because really, laughter is the best medicine.

Holiday fun

I have Christmas on the brain. Yes, I know it's October.



I went to Hallmark this morning because the Keepsake Ornaments debuted this weekend, I picked up a few ornaments, along with a small piece for my Department 56 North Pole Series village. Yes, I know it's October (and a high of 85 degrees).


I love Christmas. It's my favorite holiday by far, and I'm very attached to the traditions of Christmas. To me, Christmas symbolizes the celebration of family. In fact, the theme of my bridal shower was Christmas in July, and everyone brought me something for my husband and I to hang on our first Christmas tree - the celebration of the beginning of our new family.



As my family has grown and we've moved farther away from them, I've had to start planning for Christmas earlier. We all have to balance our own vacation schedules with our spouses, our siblings, and our in-laws, but my side of the family has always found a way for us all to be together for Christmas. For the last few years, our solution has been to gather at my parents' house in Illinois on Christmas Day.



Since moving to Charlotte, I've had to deal with a new aspect of holidays - flying. We'd always lived in driving distance before, and even though it was a pain and we had to make adjustments based on snow and ice conditions, we were always able to see our families with no problems. In fact, we even were able to take a trip to Mexico with my husband's family one year and still make it to see my family on Christmas Day.


Last year was our first year of flying home for the holidays. Our plan was to spend three days with my family and two and a half days with my husband's family. Our flight on the evening of December 23rd was cancelled, and we weren't able to fly until the morning of the 24th. It made for a somewhat hectic Christmas Eve because we had to drive to my parents' house that morning, which was two hours from the airport, but overall it worked out fine.


This year, however, is already shaping up to be a challenge. My husband's family proposed taking a trip this year. The trip was my husband's idea actually, but when he proposed it, he thought we'd go on vacation after Christmas as a way to recooperate from the holidays. However, due to my sister-in-law's vacation schedule, the proposed trip would happen from December 23rd until December 26th. From a logistical standpoint, this means that we'll be flying from Charlotte to our vacation destination, and then somehow getting to Illinois to see my family, before heading back to Charlotte.


My husband's family doesn't seem to understand why this is problematic for us. It seems that they don't recognize that this trip involves multiple destinations/flights for us, extra costs, and needing extra time to see both families. It means spending multiple days on airplanes and extra hours in cars.


And it means not being with my family on Christmas, or maybe even at all.


My husband's family (his parents and older sister) don't have many Christmas traditions. In fact, they don't even have a tree. And really, his sister doesn't technically believe in Christmas (that's a loooooong story, but she claims to celebrate Winter Solstice or Yule, though she always asked for Christmas presents... like I said, looooooong story). When we've been with my in-laws on Christmas Eve, my husband and I go to Mass alone. We've always invited the family to go with us, but they've always declined. Sometimes my mother-in-law would go to the Lutheran service, but more often she'd say she was going and then ultimately end up not going. My father-in-law refused to go to anything, and my sister-in-law would sometimes say she was going to services with my mother-in-law and then bail, and sometimes lecture everyone on the evils of organized religion (like I said, looooooong story). They have never said anything about us taking off around dinner time to go to Church, but I always felt weird leaving them for several hours while we attend Mass.


We stopped exchanging gifts a few years ago, largely because it had dissolved into getting gift cards for each other. I found it dumb to essentially exchange cash - here's $50 for Ikea compared to your $25 Borders gift card -and suggested we spend money on doing something together as a family. This actually went over pretty well when we instituted it. One year, my husband and I bought theatre tickets to Meet Me in St. Louis, while his parents bought massages for everyone and then his sister bought lunch after our massages. I thought this arrangement worked well. We did non-Christmasy things, but spent more time together as family than we would've otherwise.


My family (my parents, three sisters, two brothers-in-law, niece, nephew, and now youngest sister's fiance), on the other hand, have a lot of Christmas traditions. For starters, we always go to Mass on Christmas Eve. Attending Mass on Christmas Eve is incredibly important to me. Regardless of what else is on my mind, or how stressed I am leading up to Church, the moment I step into church on Christmas Eve, my mind is cleared. I focus on the the music, and the Nativity, and spending time with my family, and suddenly I'm overwhelmed by Christmas spirit.


We have other traditions too, involving looking at Christmas lights, eating particular food, and opening presents, and we recently added a gingerbread house building contest (except we use graham crackers, and they're not necessarily houses). I enjoy all these traditions, but moreso I love sharing them with my family.


Thus, for the last couple of years, we've spent both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with my family. In 2008, we went to his family's house for three days before Christmas and drove from his parents to my parents on Christmas Eve. Last year, we arrived on Christmas Eve and then left to see his family on the early morning of the 27th until the 29th. I enjoyed this arrangement a lot. We celebrated a more traditional Christmas with my family, but still spent quality time with his family. My husband agreed with me, which was important to making these arrangements. He enjoyed the Christmas celebration with my family, and appreciated the time we spent with his family.


And yet, somehow, his family doesn't seem to understand this.



Like I said, my husband understands my frustration completely and supports me on the decision to spend Christmas Day and sometimes Christmas Eve with my family, but can't seem to get his family to understand our choice. When he expressed our mutual concern about not being with my family at all on Christmas if we went on this trip, his parents got angry and complained that we hadn't spent Christmas with them in a few years. My husband pointed out that Christmas and Christmas traditions aren't that important to his parents (as evidenced by their eagerness to be on vacation over Christmas), but they argued that it was important that we spend time with them. My husband pointed out that we did spend time with them, and we tried to spend quality time with them, but they were more concerned that we spend Christmas Day with them than listening to my husband's reasons for why we couldn't do the trip the way they wanted to do it.


The conversation ended with my in-laws telling my husband that if we weren't going to go from the 23rd to the 26th, then we weren't going on the trip at all. To me, this made sense. It didn't work in our schedules, it was going to be ridiculously expensive, so why force it to happen? Unfortunately, it was meant to be a threat, as a way of forcing my husband and I to choose between his family and mine - as though if we didn't go on this trip, we weren't going to see his family at Christmas at all.



And that's why I'm angry.



His mom and sister were at my wedding shower, so I know they are aware of how important Christmas is to me. I shared my disappointment the first year they decided not to put up a Christmas tree. (They decided it was a pain, even though they left it up and completely decorated in the basement all year - just had to carry it upstairs at Christmas!) It's hurtful to me that they're trying to keep me from my family, and that they're forcing their three schedules on us instead of accommodating ours, especially because we're already traveling to see them. I'm upset that they don't want to acknowledge that we're trying to balance two families. But most of all, I feel like we're being manipulated, and that they're threatening to withold their love and attention in order to get what they want. And I'm angry that we're not allowed to make our own choice and do what we want to do, all because we don't want to hurt anybody else's feelings.



Really, I am sure this will all work out fine. We won't go on the trip, but we'll still see his family, and we'll be with my family on Christmas Day. I just hope that his family won't make my husband feel guilty for being with my family on Christmas.



Guilt is the opposite of Christmas Spirit.

I cook, I really do!

I had a Dream Dinners session last Friday. I really look forward to my Dream Dinners sessions, and last Friday was no exception. I love cooking, but I love that someone else is cleaning up after me even more.



I made some great dishes - Beef stew, Buffalo ranch chicken, Meatball marinara stuffed french bread, Chicken and dumplings, Arroz con pollo, and a few others - and I'm looking forward to eating each dish. However, I felt a bit guilty when I emptied my cooler full of freshly prepared meals into the freezer at home. I realized I had a lot of "frozen dinners" and felt as though I was somehow robbing my husband of a home-cooked meal.



I wondered why I felt like I was shirking my housewife responsibilities and it dawned on me - I'd convinced myself that I didn't actually cook for him because it was too easy.



Dream Dinners, and most of the meal prep places, run like this: pick the items you want to make, select a session, show up at designated time, make selected items, bring home dinners and place in freezer. (This explains it much more thoroughly.) They provide the recipe, the ingredients, and the measuring tools, and I follow the recipe, assembling the ingredients in a aluminum pan or plastic freezer bag. In some ways, it's like being on a cooking show - the ingredients are at the prep station, and all the chef has to do is put them together. It's exactly what I would do at home, except I'd be shuffling around my own kitchen, chopping and measuring and mixing and marinating (creating my own mise en place), and then putting everything directly into the skillet or baking dish. Instead, I stop short of cooking and bring it home to cook it later.



I remember my mom spending Saturdays cooking and freezing a bunch of meals, and I even did these during grad school so my husband could have a home cooked meal on nights I wouldn't be home. I did them because it was important to have a home-cooked meal and because it was a way of expressing my love and care to my husband. I usually spent all day Saturday or Sunday cooking, and the kitchen was a mess by the time I was done, but I always felt it was worth it to have dinners ready for those busy nights.



So how is it different when I go to Dream Dinners?



It's not, except I don't have to shop, it doesn't take me as long (I've never taken longer than 2 hours, and that's only when I'm preparing 12-15 meals), and somebody cleans up after me when I'm finished. It's easier for me, and somehow I equated easier as not cooking. Or maybe easier meant I didn't love my husband as much because I didn't spend hours cooking and cleaning to put food on the table.



Either way, I'm over it. I no longer consider myself a bad housewife because I use Dream Dinners. My husband and I eat a variety of food I'd never think to prepare otherwise- next month we're getting chicken vesuvio which I LOVE from restaurants but have never attempted at home - and I make sure we have a home cooked dinner every night. I'm saving us money by not resorting to take out on the busy nights, and I'm feeding him healthier food overall. I cook, I just don't have to clean up as much. And since I hate cleaning anyway, I think it's a win-win.



If you're in the Charlotte/Fort Mill area and would like to try Dream Dinners, please let me know - I have a coupon for $50 off your first session at the Fort Mill store!

Happy Anniversary, Charlotte!

Today marks our one year anniversary of living in Charlotte. When I think about where I was in my life a year ago compared to where I am now, I marvel at how much life has changed and how much I've personally changed.

There are geographic adjustments, of course, between Michigan and North Carolina. I fly a lot more now than I have in the past, simply because flying is necessary to visit most family and friends. I've visited places I'd never thought of visiting before, like Charleston, SC simply because it's convenient now. I find myself more concerned about hurricanes (though Charlotte is far from the ocean and hasn't been hit in more than 20 years) than snowstorms, and I've had to adjust my time line for seasonality of produce. When I shop for clothes, I invest in lightweight pants and short-sleeved shirts rather than heavy sweaters and sweatshirts. I found it necessary to invest in prescription sunglasses because I need to wear them year-round. These have been slight adjustments, but adjustments nonetheless.

Then there are actual changes I've made in my life. I exercise four to five times each week, and this is a major change for me. I exercised when I lived in Michigan, but it was inconsistent and always at the bottom of my priority list even though I wanted to do it more often. Here, I fit it into my day naturally. I started tennis lessons because it's fun, and because it's what the women do around here. I cook more often, though I admittedly use Dream Dinners to help me (I'm completely okay with that, and my husband does not care), and have greatly reduced the amount of junk that I eat. I've lost 30 pounds since moving to Charlotte which is the product of
the exercise and cooking, rather than a conscious effort to lose weight. My hair is lighter and my skin is darker from the sun, which is again natural and a product of being outside more often, and I generally look healthier than I did when I lived in Michigan.

My priorities have shifted. I've always considered my husband the primary breadwinner in our family, but I've also always considered myself a contributor to household income. I felt that because I also made money, my career was just as important as his. In the past, we've made moves in order to benefit my career and we've made moves to benefit my husband's career. After this move to Charlotte, I don't think I'd consider moving to another city to benefit my own career unless I was absolutely certain my husband was going to benefit too - as in, he also had a job opportunity that ensured greater professional and financial benefits in hand. I've always known he was smart and good at his job, but this year has shown me that he is truly remarkable at what he does, and he deserves every opportunity to develop professionally. I know, I know, I deserve the same opportunity. Except I don't. I'm good at what I do, but he is truly extraordinary. And frankly, I'll never make close to what he will and in these tough economic times, that is a very real and important factor.

Because of the realization, I've accepted more responsibility for the household tasks. I cook, I clean, and I launder (is that I word? If not, it should be and that should be the correct use for it). I'm not great at these tasks, and I doubt I ever will be. I still grumble as I do them, but I also never think "it's [husband]'s turn to do the dishes" as I unload the dishwasher. These jobs are just ways that I can contribute, and even though I feel like I'm not doing enough sometimes, I know my husband appreciates that he doesn't have to worry about them when he gets home from work.

And as I already learned, I'm happy. A year ago, if I had a crystal ball and saw what my life would be on September 15, 2010, I would've predicted I would be miserable because smart, independent, and career-driven women aren't supposed to be satisfied with life as a housewife. But I am, and it doesn't make me a less smart, independent, or career-driven woman - but perhaps now I'm a bit less selfish. I'm still trying to figure that out.

I sometimes wonder if I would've gotten to this point if we hadn't moved, and I really don't think I would have. My life would be different than it was a year ago regardless, but I'm not sure about how my priorities or my feelings or my body or my relationship with my husband would've changed, if at all. I've moved many times in my life, and I've always learned and changed as a result, but I think this is the first move in which I can say it's been nothing like I'd hoped but I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy Anniversary, Charlotte! Here's to many more!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

A few years ago, my husband and I decided that we wanted to visit all the MLB stadiums. Many people have written blogs, articles, and even books about planning a MLB stadium trip and the experience of road tripping. Authors have developed various rating systems to rank the ball parks in an effort to determine which is "the best." Much like others who have attempted to visit the stadiums, we have our own system which essentially that it is a non-system. But it works for us.

I'm don't remember exactly how we decided we were going to see all the stadiums, but I believe it began with a trip to San Francisco. We were living in Milwaukee, and my husband was sent to San Luis Obispo, California for a business trip. We decided to make a vacation out of it. After he finished the business portion of his trip, we drove up Highway 1 to San Francisco. We planned to be tourists and visit with one of my friends who was in grad school at UC-Berkeley. Somehow we decided being a tourist involved going to see a San Francisco Giants game at what was then called PacBell Park (now AT&T Park). Barry Bonds was in the midst of his chase for the home run title, and we'd seen the park and the famous splash hits into McCovey Cove on television so we thought we should see it for ourselves. I believe it was either during this game or during a discussion of this game that we decided we should see all the ball parks.

At this point, we had been to Miller Park (Milwaukee Brewers), Wrigley Field (Chicago Cubs), and Comiskey Park (or the US Cellular Field as the Chicago White Sox field is known now), and we added PacBell to the list. We had no rating system in place, and didn't try to create one, and we had no specific time line to complete our visits. We just wanted to see them all!

When we moved to Michigan, we had the opportunity to visit a few more stadiums. My husband became an instructor for the continuing education program at his accounting firm, and he was sent all over the country to teach. I also traveled for conferences, so we tagged along on trips whenever we could and tried to visit ball parks whenever possible. Often times we had poor timing and the home team was on a road trip (three trips to the Bay area and Oakland has never been in town!) or it was the off-season so we couldn't take in a game. Sometimes we made plans to visit a park and the business trip was canceled which was frustrating and disappointing.


However, a few times we said "Let's go to a game this weekend!" and we'd take off for whichever city we decided to visit. This was the case last weekend when we decided to drive to Atlanta to check Turner Field off the list. We had a free weekend, we had an excuse to go (our favorite team, the Milwaukee Brewers, were the Braves' opponent), and it was convenient so off we went!

The game was enjoyable and Turner Field is nice. Getting to Turner Field and into the game, however, was an exercise in patience that we both failed. They really need to be taught how to direct traffic and parking. Atlanta traffic is bad enough, but add in a 40,000 people heading to a Braves game and the result can only be described in one word: clusterfuck. Service at the concession stands was slow, but the people were nice and I suppose that's important too. Overall rating: Not as nice as PNC Park, Camden Yards, or PETCO Park, but better than Comerica Park. This rating system doesn't even include all the parks we've seen. I told you, we're scientific.


Whenever I tell people that we're doing this, I get one of three responses. 1) That's cool, I've heard of people doing that, or 2) I've always wanted to do that (for MLB or other professional sport), or 3) Why? Visiting the ball parks isn't just about visiting the ball parks. We love sports and we enjoy baseball so we do like the experience of being at the ball game.

However, it's also a way for us to travel and to see the country. It's an excuse to spend time together, to be spontaneous, and to just get away from our daily lives. We both have professional and personal goals, and though we support each other, we accomplish these tasks individually. We have family goals as well, but they generally involve money, retirement, housing, and the like. The stadium tour is our common goal, something we both want to achieve, but more importantly, something we want to achieve together.

And as we visit the stadiums, we make memories that we can share for years to come. I may not remember every Easter I've spent with my husband, but I do remember the Easter we spent in San Diego, watching the Padres play the Giants from the all you can eat seats at PETCO Park. It was 75 and sunny, and I enjoyed every ray of sun on my face after a long Michigan winter, and the sip of every Diet Coke after giving up soda for Lent. I also remember my husband looking completely happy and relaxed after a draining few months dealing with the bankruptcy of General Motors. We've visited about half of the stadiums thus far, and are eager to see the rest. We've tentatively planned for one more this season, and hopefully we'll sneak a few more in there as well. With each ball park, it's not only a step closer to our goal, but it's also a shared experience that I can cherish every day, even if/when the time comes that my husband can no longer take me out to the ball game.

And this is why I don't have kids

Some of the commercials during the World Cup have been pretty good. Others, like the Hyundai commercials, have been a stretch. There's one commercial that gets at the idea of loyalty, and talks about how one family named their baby after an entire soccer team to show loyalty. It reminded me of the Nike commercial about destiny when they show Wayne Rooney scoring a goal for England, and then all the babies in the hospital being named Wayne.

In this vein, I asked my husband, "If we were to name our hypothetical baby after a soccer player, what would we name him or her?"

Without turning missing a beat, my husband replied, "Arjen." (That's Arjen Robben from the Netherlands for those who don't know).

Yep, that's why we don't have kids.