The History of Love.

Well look what we have here.  My 2nd blog post.  And less than 24 hours after my 1st blog post.  My daughter is watching The Little Mermaid with Mama.  Which means that I have some time to sit in peace.

This morning I was reading about some of the super fun things you experience after the delivery of your baby.  And then I started thinking about what I wrote last night.  About how infertility can really put your marriage through the ringer. But there are a SHIT TON of things that puts your marriage through the ringer.  I hated being pregnant.  IMG_4009But I was still in awe of the fact that I was making a human.  I couldn’t even come close to dealing with how much the smell of Monica made me gag.  Like, literally gag.  But yet I was more in love with her than ever.  Hormones are no joke.  So pregnancy can put strain on a marriage.  Then you have the baby and you’re all like “OMG, I just had a fucking baby!”. IMG_4124 I was high on life the first 5 to 6 day after I had Finn.  Ok, I was actually high on pain medication too.  And the hormones make you so in love.  WITH EVERYTHING!  And then that makes you cry like a little bitch every 5 seconds.  It is just so beyond overwhelming.  THEN you get the hormone crash (as if they weren’t crashing before)….THAT makes you cry every 3 seconds.  So basically you have this new little person that you have to feed, change, keep alive….while you’re sobbing almost 24/7.  Neat.  If you think I’m being dramatic you can look up the statistics.  The “baby blues” are real, folks.  And a ridiculous percentage of women suffer from them.  But they go away (well, mostly).  Around 2 weeks postpartum you get a grip on your life (kinda).  You venture out of the house.  You take your new baby for a walk outside.  P1010315Maybe you go out to eat.  You think to yourself “I got this shit”.  You don’t.  I’m sorry…but you don’t.  I’m sure there are a very few people who just fall into a natural parenting rhythm.  But if you ask someone how the 1st 3 months of parenting went and they say something along the lines of “It’s so awesome”….they are most likely lying to your face.  Honestly, the first 6 or so month of our daughters life is pretty much a blur.  The exhaustion is something you can’t prepare for.  P1000095You’ll look back on your college years and think you’re ready for an alllllll nighter of parenting because you pulled all nighters multiple times a week when you were 21.  Um, no.  I’m just warning you.  The first 6 months to a year of being a parent will test your marriage in ways you can’t even prepare for.  No one really talks much about that.  Maybe it’s because they don’t want to scare you.  Or maybe they just don’t want you to think their marriage isn’t perfect.  Even if you DO have a perfect marriage…everything about your marriage/relationship will change.  It just will.  It’s not a bad thing.

Monica and I have realized that we are almost completely opposite…in every way.  And ya know what…we are fine with that.  We are still best friends.  We’ve been best friends for a really long time.  We were best friends even when we were separated.  I’m reading The History of Love.  I read this last night…

“When I’d come in, she’d call me into her bedroom, take me in her arms, and cover me with kisses.  She’d stroke my hair and say, “I love you so much,” and when I sneezed she’d say, “Bless you, you know how much I love you, don’t you?” and when I got up for a tissue she’d say, “Let me get it for you I love you so much,” and when I looked for a pen to do my homework she’d say, “Use mine, anything for you,” and when I had an itch on my leg she’d say, “Is this the spot, let me hug you,” and when I said I was going up to my room she’d call after me, “What can I do for you I love you so much,” and I always wanted to say, but never said; Love me less.”

That is me and Monica in a nutshell.  I know, I know…I’m a heartless bitch.  Whatever.  I’m not.  I don’t actually want her to love me less.  It’s just that if it were up to Monica she would tell me all the time about how much her love for me exists.  I’m the opposite.  I’m all like…I totally love you but I told you that awhile ago…I’ll let you know if that changes.  I just show my love in other ways.  I show her by cooking food that she likes.  And by snuggling with her on the couch even though I REALLY like my couch space.  And sometimes…SOMETIMES…I get all lovey dovey and tell her sweet things because I know she needs to hear it.  And sometimes…SOMETIMES…she refrains from telling me how overwhelmed with love she is for me because she knows I need the silence.

Marriage isn’t all about love.  I’ve been lucky…I’ve had a lot of love in my life.  It doesn’t mean that I would have married all of the people I loved.  For me, marriage is about all the other stuff.  It’s about all of the stuff that goes into building a life with someone.  Monica and I made the choice to build a life together.  So even when we aren’t feeling the love…the life that we built when that love was at an all time high…is enough to get us through.

So basically what I’m saying is that marriage can be a bitch.  There are days, weeks, months…even years that can go by and you wonder how on earth you’ll ever stay married.  Sometimes you just have to make a choice.  You have to say to yourself “today is NOT the day that I’m giving up on my marriage”.  And you must have faith that the person you picked to build a life will say that to themselves too.jguguj-3


Ohhhh….ya know…

Well, this is me starting a blog.  I know, I know…I’m like 7 years late to the blog party.  My wife has been telling me to start a blog for years.  But I pretty much never listen to her.  I have to apologize in advance for how long and annoying this first post is going to be.  I know it will be all over the place.  It will totally make me seem like I don’t have my shit together.  But, if you know me in real life you know that I most DEF have my shit together.  I pretty much dance on that very fine line that separates “normal” people from “ocd” people.  They won’t all be like this.  But I feel like I have to explain why I’m doing this.  And I definitely need to talk about all the reasons why I didn’t want to.  Shit could get deep.  And personal.  I might even talk about YOU.  So if you don’t want to know shit about my life…or if you are gonna be a judgey judgerson (YOU know who YOU are)…move along.  Or don’t.

THIS started out as a way for me to hold myself accountable in regards to fitness/diet/etc.  I’m starting a journey (hahaha..that DOES sound as cheesy as it did in my head).  But for real though…I AM starting a journey.  I have goals in mind but I don’t think I’m ready to share those yet.  My original plan was to check in daily for the entire month of April.  Ya know, talk about my workouts, meal prep, etc.  And I might do that.  But I also might write about being a stay at home mom/wife.  I might talk about how I make my own cleaning products.  I might talk about DIY shit.  The world is my mother f’n oyster.

I stalk #fitmoms on instagram.  It’s totally motivational for me.  But it is also what had me NOT wanting to write a blog about all this.  A lot of the moms will post transformation pics.  And a lot of them were being accused of fat shaming.  Um, what?  I don’t like any kind of shaming.  Slut shaming, fat shaming, woman shaming….its all gross.  I would never want people to think that I was fat shaming.  Here’s the deal…do I think a person can be healthy at any size?  Sure.  Do I think people can be beautiful at any size?  You bet!  But I know from experience that I personally feel better when I’m eating well, and busting ass at the gym.   And for me eating well and busting my ass at the gym means I become a smaller person.   It’s just the way it is.  I want to be fit.  I want to be fit because I feel better when I’m fit.  I lift weights because it makes me feel strong as hell.  I want to feel strong as hell so I can keep up with my 3 year old at the playground.  There are a lot of things I love about myself…things that I’m good at…good qualities…regardless of my size.  I like the color of my eyes.  I rarely have bad hair days (don’t hate).  I love knowing that I carried my daughter INSIDE of my body.  I have pretty good eyebrows despite an unfortunate waxing experience in San Francisco.  I am kind.  I’m a good friend.  I hear my daughter say “I love you so much, mommy” multiple times a day.  I respect my mom (both of my moms).  My wife thinks I’m the sexiest person on the planet (and she has thought that since the day she met me).  I make good coffee.  I’m super organized.  I mean…the list is endless.  Obviously.  😉

This really isn’t about weight loss for me.  In fact, I will never post my weight here.  I don’t care about the number on the scale.  And if I don’t care about it, then you definitely shouldn’t care about it.  I will say that in terms of weight I guess I’ve always been in the “average” category.  I was super active as a kid and teenager.  My mom had me in all kinds of activities.  I was a dancer from the age of 3 to 16.  Although I didn’t have a ballerina type body.  I’ve always had more of a “fly girl” body.  For those of you that don’t get the “fly girl” reference (hello!? J-Lo!)…basically it means that my booty be bangin’.  I know some people like to compare themselves to others.  I do it too.  I see a woman on instagram, or pinterest and I’m all like….wonder how tall she is?  Is she big boned or petite like me?  So before people ask…I am 5’4″ (at least I am on my Drivers License), and at the moment I wear a size 10 jeans (sometimes a 12 if it’s a brand that thinks women should have like no ass!), and I usually wear a medium top.  Although shirts drive me bat shit because what I lack in shoulders I make up for in boobs.

Speaking of boobs.  I used to be really confident with my body.  Years ago when I went to visit friends in Ptown I ran out of money before my vacation was over.   I wasn’t sure how I was going to get back to PA actually.  Gas ain’t free.  They were having a black bra contest at the pied.  I told everyone not to worry.  That I was going to enter the contest and I would win and it would be fine.  I did win.  Suzanne Westenhoffer was the judge.  I think I won like $200 bucks.  What’s interesting about that is that I didn’t have what I would consider my ideal body.  But damn was I confident.  Somewhere along the way I lost that confidence.  Pregnancy was really difficult for me so I would guess that was the start of it.  I only gained 27lbs during pregnancy.  But the changes in my body were extremely difficult for me to handle.  I want to feel confident with my body again.  Not so that I can win another black bra contest (I’m totally too old for that shit)…but so that I can feel and be strong.  But I DO want to look good.  And sometimes I don’t want to say that because I know some people think that sounds so unfeminist or whatever.  I’m not saying that thin is in.  Or that EVERYONE thinks that a perfect body is a fit body.  This is totally personal.  Some people think they look best when they have pink hair.  Some people prefer to be tan year round.   Some people only wear black.  I want to be fit.  I want to look fit.

The past two years have been really difficult.  For me.  For my marriage.  Just freakin’ difficult in every way possible.  We’ve spent over $30, ooo to try to have another baby (we started trying when Finn was 1 and she just turned 3 in November).  We’ve gone though countless IUI cycles and two failed IVF cycles.  You can google those abbreviations if you have to…this isn’t THAT kinda blog.  Infertility does a number on a marriage.  It almost destroyed our marriage to tell you the truth.  We had a brief separation. Some of you probably didn’t know that.  It wasn’t your business then and it isn’t your business now.  But it is worth mentioning because it’s the truth and it is reality.  The want/need to have children is so intense.  And when it doesn’t or can’t happen easily and/or naturally…you will give up every part of yourself to try to make it happen.  It got to the point where Monica and I were just existing under the same roof.  I felt like a failure (I still do…I’m working on it!).  Monica didn’t know what to say so she just didn’t say anything.  DAYS would go by and I would barely hear her voice because that’s how little she spoke to me.  We weren’t taking care of ourselves OR each other.  I bring all this up because I don’t ever want us to get to that point again.  I have to make taking care of myself a priority.  Because I can’t be a kick ass wife and mommy if I’m just existing.  And taking care of myself goes way beyond just getting fit.  It means going to the chiropractor more than once a year.  It means going to a coffee shop by myself and reading a book.  It means taking my daughter to sweet frog for a mommy and me date.  It means asking my wife for help with making the bed even though she doesn’t do it right.  It means going to lunch with my mom.  It means working on the friendships that are worth it.  Self care IS pretty simple when you keep up with it.

Whew, I’m exhausted.  How bout you?  Listen, most of you will probably find the shit I write about pretty boring.  Even though I think it’s pretty clear that I am HILARIOUS!  And I think we all know that you are DYING to know more about my life.  I did mention that I might post about homemade cleaners and stuff.  So I mean…it could get craaaaaaazy up in this bitch!  Stay tuned!

– C