Evan and Alice: The Unauthorized What If, What Would Have Been, Bizarro World Story

I give full credit for this idea to my friend. She sent me a screen shot of two older redheads and said she found the very doppelgangers or other world versions of myself and my now ex-husband, on a weekend day at Costco. I told her to go befriend them and ask their names as though they could be possibly close to Eben and Alison, something like Evan and Alice. She told me to write their story, like a futuristic version of what could of been if we'd stayed married. And things started to come together.

I immediately remembered that epic Seinfeld episode, with the "Bizarro Jerry," and for the past couple of weeks the pieces of this "would be" story have just been following me around in bits in pieces.

The screen shot was of this slightly older male and female, similar builds to myself and the ex, in line at Costco and suddenly I saw what would have been my future, through what I'd imagined their day shopping was like. And just like that I am writing again. 

Before we get into this, I need to stress how much of this is a re-imagining. While some moments will be based on past experiences, events, moments, feelings and anxieties, I mean in no way to paint a distinct image that whatever happens in the following is indeed a first person depiction of my actual marriage. The following story is a musing, or rather a way for me to write out what may have been a future path, but by no means is based on anything more than ideas and fictional characters. So while I appreciate you reading, don't read too much into it. If you feel triggered or have questions, just reach out. 

Alice stood in line at Coscto, mask on, with a full cart, zoning out a bit at the end of the shopping experience. As Evan shot past her to leave her to the payment part and him to the part where he got his quintessential Costco Chicken Bake. In their 20's, Evan's obsession with getting a Costco Chicken Bake was cute and fun and you didn't have to care about your health. Now it was one more thing Alice had convinced herself was contributing to her theoretically growing ulcer. She was convinced one day she'd keel over from some silent, stress induced illness, or at least be confined to a padded room for a week or so one day. 

She watched everyone scramble to get their bulk goods and was almost up to the plexi-glass protected pay area. She stared into the cart. She always thought they got so much food and then somehow didn't have anything to eat. She wasn't prepared for the damage. She remembered her uncle calling Costco the $600 dollar store when it first came out. He always said you couldn't walk in there without spending $600.00 and she'd smile at the memory of times with her uncle then see Evan eyeing expensive things and cringe and take a deep breath. 

The whole experience of Coscto, became less and less fun with age. Evan never listened to her about the budget or her list. So as soon as they pulled into the lot, Alice's tension was rising. All week, calculating, recalculating, and reworking the budget. The texts and conversations about, "Okay we can spend this much," went out the door as soon as they walked in together.

Evan always went for the flat screens and technology. "I want, I need, we should have." Alice's stomach started to knot itself up. "Don't say anything sarcastic," she'd hear in her mind. She always wanted to yell, "Well if you made more money you could buy all that shit, but we are in debt because of all the other shit you bought that we didn't have money for." All that ever came out of Alice was "Uh huh, maybe that would be nice," or "Maybe for Christmas, hun."

She'd mentally start calculating how she'd ever find a way to get that for his "Christmas" birthday. Evan's birthday was January 1st and at the forefront of their relationship he'd told her that his parents always lumped it with Christmas so he never got a real party or real celebration. It then became Alice's lot in life to make the distinction and basically make it up to him that his parents let him down. Looking back she knew she'd done this to herself by being such a "good girlfriend" and "people-pleaser," that turned into the complacent wife. Now she mentally noted which TV got the best Evan review. Maybe she would find a good sale.

Fifteen years of marriage was just weird. They knew everything about each other but had nothing in common anymore. They barely watched the same shows. They never liked to meander Costco the same way either, so Alice often just followed Evan's lead to avoid another post-shopping excursion argument. Alice diverted the crowds in Costco much like she diverted years of brewing arguments with Evan, with an eye roll and a change in path for the moment.

They went past the clothes and blankets and Alice scanned quickly. She knew she'd "buyer's remorse" and immediately return anything she got as soon as they got it home and she went other the budget again. Then she'd just have to make another trip. On they went.

The next area was the furniture, which was ripe for the beginnings of an argument. "Ev, I love that dining room table. Isn't it so pretty? That's not even that expensive," Alice commented. "We don't even sit at a table to eat. You barely eat a real meal anyway and you don't cook," Evan responded. Alice felt the sarcasm and sass kick in and put on her game face. "If I had a nicer dining room set up, I might be more inspired to sit down and use it though," Alice replied.

"We're barely home two nights a week together you keep the kid so busy and you never stop until you crawl into bed with a salad and then go to bed early so when would you use this $1,200.00 dining set? You wanna drop $1,200.00 get the damn TV. At least we'd watch the TV. Get you a bigger one for the bedroom so you can eat your salad in front of The Office in peace," Evan went on grumbling while Alice reverted into reviewing the list and pretended the whole conversation never happened.

She shut up then and directed them into the frozen section after what felt like a 5 minute eye roll. He'd beaten her down with truth and now she was tired. They never ate together because Alice was so often depressed she barely had an appetite, but she couldn't really say that out loud. Most nights after work, and after school care for the kid, then sports, and then feeding the kid and doing homework, she could barely remembered to feed herself. Evan might have been right about not needing the dining set but she still wasn't getting him his TV. He wouldn't win that way.

The next few aisles were all stressful commentary by Evan the caterer about what was better priced at Coscto versus Sam's Club, what the kid wouldn't eat, what he refused to meal plan, and what he needed around for late night comfort food. Alice was just hoping she could find some decent snacks for lunches and grab her favorite protein shakes. Evan was always on a mission.

After he loaded the cart with what was on Alice's list, and then another $50 worth of stuff they couldn't afford, Alice wandered the pharmacy aisle. She'd often pause at the weight loss supplements, always wondering if she'd dare to buy and try one. After the mental talk down of why she wouldn't waste money on it, she'd just re-up on kids gummy vitamins and allergy stuff. It was then she spotted the fresh flower end-cap and found herself smiling, but in a sad way. Alice secretly loved getting flowers and she couldn't remember the last time Evan got her some. Maybe a couple years at this point. 

She'd stopped and zoned off again when Evan caught her. "Did you get the Advil?," Evan asked. "Yeah, it's in there," Alice assured him. "Where!?," Evan demanded. "It's in there!," Alice raised her voice and noticed a couple people glanced back. She kept walking with the cart, Evan followed behind making no effort to hide he was annoyed with her. She found her spot in line.

"I'm going," Evan started but Alice interrupted, "The chicken bake, yup. I got it." His ditching out for the grand total was dodging the responsibility, or so Alice had decided. She watched everyone ringing everything up and then started her usual stressing about the entire contents of the cart, secretly planning what she might return if  it came to it. In fifteen years their marriage came down to Costco drama as the best metaphor for their relationship.

They couldn't make it through a single trip to Costco without some kind of disagreement. Alice dreaded these joint shopping days, but it was their futile attempt at quality time. She much preferred to go alone and stick to her exact list. Her world was lists now and she found comfort in them. She made lists of the budget, what they could afford, what they couldn't, where they could go for a vacation, what she needed to clean, what she needed to remind or ask Evan about, where the kid needed to go or what she needed to get done. Alice's life was lists. 

The worst of the lists included the lists of the things Evan did routinely to upset her but she just put on the complacent smile and turned on The Office for the 9,000th time. If she lived through the comedy of Dunder Mifflin life seemed less bleak. She paid the huge bill, on a credit card of course, met Evan with his Chicken Bake and off they went. When they got to the car, Evan decided he couldn't help much because he didn't want his Chicken Bake to get cold.

Alice slowly unloaded the cart and returned it. Evan turned on the car, blasted the air conditioner and picked a CD before Alice could argue. She took a moment of peace walking back from the cart return to the car. It was an amazing 90 degrees out and as much as live frustrated her, she often reminded herself how lucky she was not to live in cold, damp, gray places anymore. She got into the car and immediately got chilly.

"Can you please turn the fan for the air lower?," Alice muttered. "I don't know how you're always cold," Evan said. "Must be your cold, cold heart," he poked her and smiled as if to tease. He said this to her regularly. Around year five of marriage it became less cute and far more mean. She now just smiled and nodded hoping he would just listen to the music peacefully and finish his Chicken Bake. 

When they got home and unloaded everything Alice went and sat on her bed a minute. She heard Evan reorganizing everything she just put away and she fell to her pillow. She was so tired. Evan came in and saw her resting. "Oh Costco wore ya out huh? You're done for the day?," he asked. For a brief moment she'd thought about saying something snarky back. She couldn't handle anything more for today. 

Alice put her hair up and then said, "Yeah, I just needed a minute. Thanks for going to the store with me." Evan gave her a snide smile, "Yeah well if I had stayed home I'd hear about it. I picked the lesser of the evils I guess. You're not that bad to be around." And that was Alice's whole outlook on life from the view of a day with her husband at Costco. Maybe her and her cold heart weren't all that bad to be around. 

Alice started a list for their next Costco trip and stared at the sun again from the kitchen window. These were the moments she held close to her and zoned in on in long lines, traffic and disagreements. Evan propped himself up in his recliner to watch cooking competition shows and Alice sat down to make her lists. 

And so it was their story, that Alice and Evan lived...ever after to be seen combating Coscto for decades more of marriage. 

The Big Ten

On June 14th, 2009 my husband and I were married in Oregon. Yup, we lasted a decade and hit the big ten everyone. Pop the champagne!

Since we had the baby, anniversary stuff has been extremely low key but for 10 years we decided we needed to do it up. Actually this happened only about two months ago that we agreed to make it a weekend worthy of time away.

My husband and I recently reflected on where we've been the last 10 years and I don't mean that geographically. To put it lightly, we've been through some shit. Most of you might say, "Ah, yeah the car accident and everything." Nah, that's only wading ankle deep in the shit.

Ironically we started uncovering the layers of what's been happening with friends and family and have gotten mostly warm, understanding and concerned support and reminders that we have people around us that love us. One particular response, however, is so painfully ironic that I just keep replaying it in my mind and to sum up, the response to our big ten was a reminder that it likely won't get much easier.

Some of you will laugh and scoff saying that's not exactly supportive of how far we've come. For those of you that know me quite well, you can understand my interest in just how ridiculous it all is. If you want me to put it politely, things have been generally okay. If you want the raw truth, the past 5 years have been the toughest we've ever been through, nearly leaving us completely broken and irreparable. However, we've been working our asses off not to get to the low point, or close, again.

We've overcome a lot of personal battles, spousal battles, and parenthood battles, all of which have made us even stronger, but were challenging, hurtful and sometimes unfair, nonetheless. So, this weekend isn't about reaching some random number. It's about look at what we've done the last 10 years only to this year, yes 2019, be the closest we've been since our wedding day, to landing on our feet.

Don't get me wrong, our wedding wasn't perfect or flawless. The best man forgot the groom's suit and didn't realize it until 40 minutes before the ceremony was set to start. One of my bridesmaids had to make people completely re-do the table set up. One of our friends showed up like 3 hours late. It was a pretty normal wedding actually, but it was OUR day. 

We've gone to some pretty fancy weddings, and we always admire their ability to plan so far ahead and have such amazing detail. I just wanted a day to celebrate with the people I loved, and to look skinny in a great wedding dress. Goal reached. Oh and a cake from my favorite, legendary Eugene Oregon bakery. Also, goal reached.

No one tells you that no marriage is easy. No one tells you that getting help is always a good thing. No one tells you you'll go through periods where you don't even like your spouse. You just love them because they are yours, but you don't have to like them sometimes.

No one tells you that you can grow into adulthood separately to the point where it can create a rift. No one tells you how much parenthood changes your entire marriage. No one talks about financial issues making you go to bed angry and not speak for days. No one tells you about any of the shit, just the cupcakes and rainbows.

It's as if we have to lift the veil and share our wounds before anyone else comes out with their marriage woes. It's like in Wizard of Oz when they drop the house on the wicked witch but you have to coax out the munchkins like, what am I walking into? 

I honestly have no expectations that things will be easy. I am cautiously optimistic that we've gotten through some rough waters and have some slightly sunnier weather ahead. I'm sure we will continue to work on things and grow and communicate so we actually like each other. For me personally, the love part is easy, but always liking the person you've married, especially when they are being quite un-like-able, is the hardest. 

In true form, the last few months in healing I have quoted Parks and Rec over and over, with some serious Ben and Leslie goals:

These two are important, especially at the end of the day.

What we're doing is a big deal for us. We are going away for one whole night. We are staying on the beach in a nice place with privacy and quiet, we are having a nice dinner together, and we are just going to enjoy each other with no child in our midst. 

In truth, we probably have 2 to 4 date nights a year, and I'm not over-dramatizing at all. Usually we have to be in Pennsylvania or Oregon to warrant being away for even just a night, let alone anything more. Taking this time for ourselves is huge. This is such a big deal I've told almost no one about it, so as not to jinx or ruin it somehow. As if sharing my excitement could spoil the fun, but mostly it's not about anyone else but us.

It's been a rough handful of years, so for the big 10, we're ushering in 10 more and hopefully rekindling what we need to make it less volatile, stressful and stormy. We love us some thunderstorms, but I'd much rather enjoy them with my hubby than weather them at each other.  

My wisdom after 10 years of marriage is this: You're going to be horrible to each other, you're going to have really dark moments, but don't give up the fight. If that is the person you want to fight with and annoy, keep annoying them, don't disappear. Remember that divorce is never a bad thing because happily married people don't get divorced, generally, so if you're fighting the good fight, you don't really have to worry about that part. I intend to keep fighting the good fight for as long as he's around to fight with. 

The Florida Move - Who, What, When, Where...Maybe Even Why?

We're inching closer to a full decade as Floridians and my husband also has reminded me, I've officially lived in Florida longer than I did in Oregon and I'm 3 years shy of beating out my 13 years in Pennsylvania. The Florida move was a big one for my husband but less so for me, and 10 years later I figure I can better explain the move now, as opposed to before.

When I was all of 7 years old and obsessed with Father of The Bride with Steve Martin, I decided I was going to get married in my dad's church, have the reception at our house, that I loved so much, of course stay close by to family and raise my kids right there, right? Why would you ever leave "home?" That's how it worked right?

By 13 my mom was consistently out of the picture and my dad, having moved to Pennsylvania for my mom and her family more than anything else, was growing tired of being where he no longer seemingly had a reason to solidify his roots. My dad attempted to find us a secondary space in North Carolina, our version of a summer home he bought for him and my mom. When the shit hit the fan, he lost the house, and all his future plans, so he started devise a decision on what he wanted in terms of a new life alone.

He decided on Oregon. My mom ended up in Delray Beach, Florida for her first solid year of stability. I came down for summer camp and visits and much like the opposite of Frozen's Elsa, "The heat never bothered me anyway." I fell in love easily with Florida. My grandparents were just an hour north of her in Port St. Lucie too and I was just in awe of all things Florida.

I loved the palm trees, the big changing signs along I-95, the malls, and it was bright and sunny so that you could go to the beach or the pool year round. I loved the big houses almost as I loved the little key west style one-floor ranchers and loved that it was WARM!

When I was vying for having a mother figure back and my dad was itching for distance, he said he was going to go back to Oregon when I was 16 and I had zero interest in following. I wanted to live with my mom in Delray. So, I finished my sophomore year of high school living with my Aunt in Pennsylvania and then was shipped to Delray Beach.

I landed in Ft. Lauderdale, and did my junior year in Delray Beach and literally lasted a year to the day, before my dad packed up all my stuff and dragged me across the country with him to Oregon to finish high school and then go to college. My mom and I were not fit to share a roof. Unfortunately this still stands and has been recently proven. 

After moving to two high schools in 2 years, moving didn't bother me. I could be a nomad, whatever. In fact for the next 7 years, I moved once a year. My dad rented a place on Hilyard in South Eugene for High School. After that we moved to West Eugene to an apartment for my first year at community College. Then I was on 11th with my first roommate, then I lived by myself on High Street, then to Bailey Hill in a little townhouse with a roommate, moved in the same complex but a one bedroom with my then boyfriend, now husband, and then with my Aunt back in South Eugene, whilst I planned my graduation and Oregon escape.

My sights were originally set on San Francisco, or New York. I always dreamed that being poor in a big city was more romantic than being rich in the suburbs. But, after another bad situation with my mom derailed me, and I had a year of pretty intense depression and anxiety, I gave into the idea that maybe I was the type that could settle down and have a family, and my adolescent Carrie Bradshaw dreams were just the stuff of immaturity.

My husband had never really lived anywhere. Just Oregon; Medford and then Eugene. When he met me, we visited Pennsylvania often, he saw the Jersey Shore and even Delray Beach, Florida. When I mentioned possibly leaving for a new place, he was all in. But then I was like, well if we're moving 3,000 miles together, if we were to get married we'd do that before we left right? Because I'd never be that person to get married on a beach. 

So, in the midst of planning a cross country trek and new life, we snuck in a wedding that turned into an epic send off and I was ready. I had studied for about 4 months in Europe in 2007 and it was just the best time ever. I LOVED to travel. It didn't  matter if it involved road trips or flying anywhere new, I was in. My husband was just kind of starting to embrace new horizons. Moreover for me, I wanted a place that was just ours.

My mom almost successfully ruined our relocation, but I refused to let her take away one more thing from my life. Originally I wanted to go back to Delray, but my husband had an Aunt in Tampa and I had had cousins move from Pennsylvania to St. Petersburg, Florida about 2 or so years prior. We visited once and very much liked it so we just changed the location a bit.

I was so ready for a clean slate, a warm new place that didn't even know anything about us. In Oregon, everyone knew my husband and I as this entity of "us," which was great and fine, but I just wanted our own real place.  I also didn't want to get stuck doing everything that everyone around us in Oregon was doing, but rather to find my own way.

Finding my footing was tough at first, but after about 2 job changes I found a place to thrive. After I left Pennsylvania "home" became a fluid concept anyway. It wasn't a place but more, a feeling of comfort in who I was with. My husband was home. The apartment didn't matter, only that we were in it together. 

For career reasons, I knew that Oregon couldn't support what I wanted to do for writing. I was in for a rude awakening that nowhere really could, especially in my married life, and also that our lives couldn't support endless internships or relocation for such things. Therefore, I just found my way with jobs to pay the bills.

In truth, with a broken heart from family life, and a guy next to me saying he wanted to go with and love me, why stay put? I wasn't immediately ready to settle down and have a family, but I liked knowing I didn't have to be alone. I wanted to just live a bit. 

Maybe my husband's reasons are completely different and I won't speculate but for me, the "who" was my husband and I, the "what" was, "moved to Florida," or as my sister said, "You can't move any further away." The "when" ended up being June-July of 2009 because we took our time getting down here. The "where" changed from Delray to Tampa Bay and the never ending "Why," would be best answered as, because we deserved a chance to have something that was our own.

Of course a decade later with a dog and a child, and even a house purchase in, boy did nothing go as I'd imagined. Expectations have been shattered and things have been harder than I could have ever thought, but I don't regret leaving. I asked my husband the same thing last year and he agreed.

Don't get me wrong, I love Oregon. I miss it. But I cannot handle the cold. The cold makes me so very physically uncomfortable and depressive. I'm much better here in the Sunshine State.

The why is complicated, I'll admit. I also think as I get older and one can only hope, wiser, it may become more succinct but I just wanted something that was completely and utterly ours. In Oregon I would have had babies immediately with everyone else, got a job I hated for no pay and struggled through the seasons to find what I was even looking for, and I didn't feel like that was where I should be. Luckily, I had a co-pilot who wanted to come with. 

Ironically now I have zero desire to leave Safety Harbor. My daughter jokes about having a different house and I'm like, "Uh, no, this is the forever house." I've had what I've built threatened to disintegrate often, and this is the first time I'm not like, "Sure we'll just move along elsewhere," but rather I'm like, "I refuse to give up what I've worked hard for."

It took me 8 years to land a job that even kind of used my degree, not to mention a job that actually was friendly to my anxiety and personal struggles. It took me 8 years to find a place I would want to stay and right now I'm having to rebuild some massive personal destruction and I won't let anyone tell me I shouldn't be spending my time to be a better mom and human. When I had my daughter there were a few times when I wished family was closer, but even when we go visit, I'm constantly reminded at how hard it is there for us, or at least for me.

Florida may not be forever but at least I can see the first hints of calm. I love this "colorful, lawless swamp" that I call home and why even? Because it is my home. And home is where the heart is right? I think we can end on that cliche for a Monday!

Last Day Of Five - All The Feels

Tomorrow is my daughter's 6th Birthday, thus making today the last day of her being 5. This whole age five thing has been an interesting ride, I will say.

She is fierce and strong-willed, which is a love-hate thing. Some days I am just in awe of her. Others, I get so mad that she's exactly like me.

The other day we had a face-off that was one for the books. I said, "Now go brush your teeth and go pee before we leave please." Her response, "Um, yeah I'm not going to do that unless I can watch Doc McStuffins on your phone in the car for the drive." I saw red. WHAT!?

This kid could be a negotiator one day. She seems to have a plan of attack and well thought out reasoning for everything. I think my favorite part of 5 was watching her become such a little person though. During some very dark and trying times she would actually reach out to comfort me and when she got frustrated with me, she'd call me out, which was both amazing and infuriating all at once. 

She grew into her own and has more independence. It's amazing. Dressing herself (it never matches but I could care less, it's just adorable), bathing herself, feeding the dog, walking him a bit more, putting things away on her own. She thrives.

She's learned to read and compare words and have real discussions with me, more than "She was mean to me today and I'm never talking to her again," or "He called me this or that name!"

She was the most fun for Christmas ever. Totally into it and so engaged for the entire thing. It made the holiday so exciting and fun.

She has manners and knows how to hold her own in social situations. I've loved seeing her independence evolve. I still have those moments where the memories of her as a baby come up on Facebook and my heart hurts but I love this stage more I feel.

I wasn't the biggest fan of infancy honestly and once we got to 4 and 5 I knew how to do things with her instead of feeling like we had to be more carefully involved in certain things. We can go have adventures now!

I'm not that mom that gets teary-eyed often about her growing but I try and let her know I see and appreciate her doing new things and being more "Luna" than before. She's such a trip and of all the things I've done, she's by far my best achievement and reason for life, without a doubt.

So we're entering the next age tomorrow and I'm so ready, or as ready as I can be. I'm thinking this year we do an epic road trip and she starts being my date to some weddings. I think we'll try some better beach days, new parks, maybe some pottery painting and craft classes. We are going to enjoy all of 6.

I'm still not ready for crazy sports schedules, sleepovers and too much time away but I'm ready for this next walk of life with her holding my hand because it's not going to fit in mine the same next year. Let's do this!

What You Should Know About Me As a Mom

First, I want to thank ALL of you that read my blog yesterday. I so appreciate each and every one of you!
Second, I wanted to give you all a view as to my whole entrance into motherhood so to speak.

Now this is just MY journey and what worked for me versus didn't work for me isn't for everyone. So I mean none of the following as a trigger for any woman, especially those trying to conceive and feeling frustrated. This is just my path and I want to support you continuing yours, whatever that looks like for you. So here we go.

In 29 days, exactly 6 years ago I gave birth to my beautiful, redheaded ball of sass, Luna Raylee. Luna came out one day after her due date and was born on 1-31-13 at 11:31AM. Not joking. I pointed this out in my exhausted stupor right after I pushed her out of me.

It took my husband and I about 6 months to conceive in 2012 after about 4 years of my being off of birth control and neither of us actively getting in nature's way. After 4 months of nothing happening, not even a late period, I did change my diet a bit and stopped drinking any wine or other alcohol and that was the exact month we conceived.

My first indicator of pregnancy, which I blissfully ignored, was going to Spin class at the Y and it being unnaturally difficult and making me so tired as if I hadn't been religiously going the past 2 years. But then I missed my period and we waited 5 days to make sure no sign of it and there it was, a positive on the pee stick! One trip to the clinic later and we were a go.

True to form for an elder millennial, (Major points to Iliza Shlesinger for coining this phrase by the way) we had no insurance so we went to the local Health Department and quickly made friends with the Nurses who told us "It's not often we get this as happy news, so congratulations! Let's set up your other appointments!"

I had a great pregnancy after 3 months of not wanting to eat, puking and having weird food aversions like marinara, ketchup, hot dogs and anything "too smelly." My husband loved to feed me after in my first trimester it once took him 2 hours to get me to decide on something to eat, he made my requested Chicken Quesadilla and I took one bite and almost lost it because it was, "Too chickeny."

I gained too much weight but wasn't too uncomfortable, although I did have had magical cankles. I also had heartburn consistently which I had never had in my life before. So she came out after about 14 hours of slow labor that I had no idea was happening. I ate spicy food because I was so terrified of being induced (My hippie college years made me decide to go natural birth, even in a hospital setting) so I was doing all the things to encourage her naturally and when I was up once an hour on January 30th into the wee hours of the 31st, I thought nothing of it. It was the curry not the baby.

I continued to think nothing of it until I woke up with the worst back pain ever. My dad was staying with us and I remember once he arrived I caved and started drinking a little caffeine again. So my dad made me a delicious cup of coffee and I took one glorious sip before I just did not feel good. My back was getting worse so I decided to take a nice, hot shower. 

I was letting my husband sleep in after a late shift and after I got out of the shower, which is where my water must have broken, unbeknownst to me by the way, I was so uncomfortable I made him get up. When I got him up, somehow I demanded pancakes and then started yelling about being not okay and very much in pain. So this was my active labor.

The mean contractions started by about 7:30AM January 31st, 2013. I had made plans with all of my friends from work, as I had been scheduled to work that day as my last day, to have Taco Thursday at my husband's restaurant. I started texting everyone that I wasn't feeling good and the bets on baby time started immediately. "No, I'm not in labor," I kept saying. After a contraction fit where I threw my phone the next text they received around lunch was..."Luna is here."

We sent my dad on an errand and my best description for what happened next was my writhing around like some kind of farm animal trying to get comfortable in hay. My poor pug was just all over feverishly trying to get his mom to stay calm. Finally my husband got a heating pad on my back and did one of those weird things they teach you in birthing class that you think is stupid with pressure points, but then actually works. At one point my 20lb pug crawled on my back on top of the heating pad and laid down and was then crowned the best dog to have ever lived. He somehow gave the perfect pressure to calm the pain. I had 10 minutes of calm bliss before I tried to move to the bedroom for more comfort and things were getting worse.

When my dad returned at about 9:45AM with some things I wanted for my "Go bag," he heard two of my contractions from the bedroom and grabbed my husband and said "Uh, those were kind of close together, we need to get in the car." 

With help down the stairs and into the back seat of our gold Pontiac Grand AM we named, "Goldmember," which I hated and my husband loved, I fell trying to get into the back seat and got my belly wedged between the front seat and the back seat. Of course my husband laughed while helping. The weather was a cool 60 for winter in Florida, and we took off with windows down, just my dad, my husband and I. We waited to call my mother because her and I had a weird relationship and she told me I could never have a baby naturally so not exactly a calming, supportive force. She remembers getting the call with my screaming in the background. 

We sped through all of Tampa to get me to the women's center. We left by about 10AM, somehow got to the hospital by 10:40AM and could see the ER driveway when we were stopped at the hospital crosswalk by an old man with a walker literally taking his small, sweet steps to get across. My husband muttered, "You've got to be kidding me!"

When we got there I needed a wheelchair because I felt some serious pelvic pressure in the car. I was in so much pain and no one was even paying me any attention in the lobby. I screamed so loudly and a nurse said "Okay, hun, is this your first baby?" I muttered yes with an annoyed look. "Okay honey, calm down, we'll get to ya." When they got me in the room and in the gown my husband had my pants and top ready to put in the plastic hospital bag and looked at them saying..."Uh, is that normal?" Apparently everything that happens right before delivery happened on the car ride and in my pants. I was too busy having a baby to notice. I heard a nurse say, "Okay, we're going straight into delivery!" 

So they get me into delivery and I'm screaming and in pain and finally my midwife says "You're pushing out when you scream, push down." This was the most constructive thing said to me in this crazy time. Three huge pushes later, no drugs and she was out, with red hair to boot. And the delivery wasn't bad at all. I remember crying to my half sister that it wasn't that bad and what happened if we ever had another one. She said "Honey usually it doesn't tend to get worse." It was everything after that was much more difficult for me.

Just before I left my job at Massage Envy I had met a nurse who worked in the NICU and pediatric ward at Tampa General. I told her I was delivering there and she said, "Well I wish you luck and I hope I don't see you there as I'm in the section with the sick little ones and I want you to have a happy, healthy baby!" This comes into play later in the story so stay tuned.

I had considered a home birth, but being an apartment renter just decided my place could never be clean enough for that. And I read the books and did the birthing classes, but in my opinion, nothing can actually prepare you for parenthood. 

Breastfeeding was SO HARD for me. You see all these women everywhere just looking like a goddess with a baby on their breast and I just felt like some cow barely hanging on. Now, I've introduced you to Luna's world entrance and tomorrow we'll talk more breastfeeding. I'd love to hear your birth and conception stories also and encourage you to email me to share anything. Again, this was just my journey with Luna but I hope that you laughed and for tomorrow, we'll have more tales of parenting. And for those of you reading this on a day where you're feeling like a "less-than-awesome" mom, you're doing so much better than you think! 

The Old, Boring, Married Couple

I’m not even sure we realized it. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but we made the shift into the old, boring, married couple. I blame the dog.

We went through a phase a few years ago where staying home was social death. We were broke all the time because we hated our tiny, little apartment and our tiny, little existence so much we had to escape. Escape = bar, restaurant, concert, whatever! But it was never cheap! Even when we moved in with family, then we had to escape the drama that created so we were never home and we never had money.

Before the puppy, we weren’t out all the time but we generally reserved being at home for sleeping and getting ready to go out. The dog just gave us a great excuse to be at home and really enjoy some down time. Our old apartment started wearing on us, though. We hated it. In retrospect, it was kind of a shit hole, but it was what we could get, easily and fast, when we moved across the country to our brand new life. We took what was in front of us. We did a few upgrades and always tried to be the social couple, inviting people over, but we still loved going out. Who doesn't?

Now, though, things have changed a bit. We don’t have much time to go out together. We don’t have much time to do much of anything together, so we're conservative with our time-spending choices. We live in a brand new, bright space. I’ve worked really hard on making our home an oasis. The dog loves it, and we love it. We like being there, why go out?

We’ve had some personal revelations too, one of which definitely comes with age: Going out and drinking; not so worth it anymore. It’s great fun with friends and there are always nice occasions but, it’s not a necessary thing anymore. We barely even drink at home, and when we do it’s a glass of whatever or two, max. We’re not party animals. We’re lazy animals. We like to relax and watch our Netflix Instant Queue. We like to curl up with the pug and unwind. We kinda like to be left alone.

I have days where I barely even touch the computer. I’m not constantly on it looking for entertainment and distraction anymore. We have days where we don’t even use our phones to speak to actual humans, we just text. We are boring, wonderful, homebodies. But maybe that’s not so bad.

There is something comforting in being relaxed with the person you are in love with. It’s nice when you don’t have to wear make-up, or care about whether or not you stay in your pajamas all day. It’s cliché and very typical, but being that comfortable is awesome.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re active. Bike rides, jogging, using the fitness center and soon enough a new gym membership will come around, but we value our down time so much, we really make it count. I’ll spend many hours making the house spotless, all so on our only day off together, we can master the art of doing nothing. I love days with lazy mornings, late breakfasts, long walks with the dog, and watching new movies together. One crazy cleaning spree every once in awhile is just par for the course.

Sure there are those moments when you worry you’re “too comfortable,” and that the joke of the thrill being gone, and sarcasm about being boring and married, isn’t much of a joke but at the end of the day, it’s all about growth and growing up.

We’re a year away from our 10 year high school reunion. We’re finally settled into steady workplaces, paychecks, and routines. We’re finally, pretty friggin’ happy! This is something that is anything but boring for us. It’s exciting! We’re talking about epic leaps into grown-up-hood on the horizon. New car, matching furniture, real vacations, new electronics, business gatherings, nights out with other couples; what’s boring about that?

Okay to some people the above list is just sad, but when you’ve finally found your happy place, it’s actually comforting. College is about completing your requirements to get this done, to graduate, to get that internship or that job. It’s all about getting to that one, single goal, but things are constantly changing. Life evolves from day to day. One day you’ll wake up and realize that things aren’t what you ever thought they would be. For some people, this realization is tough to accept, for others it sparks new opportunities and challenges. You have to embrace your old, married, bored-ness and make it count!

You have to ask yourself what you really want. If all you want is a home-cooked meal or even Chinese food delivered and a great movie on a Saturday night, that’s okay! Wear it with pride. You don’t have to go out on Saturday night and drink and party! You don’t have to go to the beach just because it’s a gorgeous day. It’s so easy to get caught up in what the rest of the universe is doing, don’t forget about what you are doing and what you WANT to be doing.

What do I want? I want a nice cup of tea in the evening while I’m arguing with my husband about what series we should watch. I want to grab lunch while we’re out running errands before we come home to spend quality time with the dog. I want to rearrange the pantry to make it more efficient. I want to snuggle up with my Kindle and my little family more often, without worrying about all the other things I could or should be doing. I want to be boring, and be old, and be married.

Maybe we did fall into the couples vortex and we’ll never get out, or maybe we’ve stumbled into normalcy, maturity and that elusive idea of happiness that felt so far off just last year. Either way, with us Chriss’ and the pug, we’ll always have our own, un-boring, un-old adventures…after our chores, errands and workdays are done…and so long as it’s not too late!