Men Posts

On Marriage

So I’ve been a little MIA but fortunately it’s because I’ve been trying to find more of a balance with my family, my work and my health.  Sometimes we lose sight of what’s really important in life and have to make changes.  Nothing crazy happening here, just was feeling overwhelmed and decided to step back for a while and cut out the non-essentials.

In what must be related to my feelings of late, I’ve been hearing a lot of talk lately about divorce.  Whispers from people at the gym, blaring celebrity headlines and mentions of friends of friends’ marriages collapsing seem to be picking up in frequency, at least ’round these parts.  In many of these failing relationships, there are children involved.  I don’t want to imagine the hurt, anger and confusion that divorce wreaks upon the lives of everyone affected by a family torn apart.  Not that it’s unheard of these days – we know that almost half of first marriages today end in divorce.  I just have a difficult time listening to some of the reasons behind these family break-ups.  It’s not because I can’t imagine these things ever happening, it’s because they seemed so preventable.

“She spent too much money.”

“He developed a pornography habit.”

“He wasn’t ready to be a Father.”

“She started falling for an old boyfriend she reconnected with on Facebook.”

“He wanted to go back to his party-boy days.”

“She completely changed once they had children and he hardly recognized her.  Eventually, they grew apart.”

Before we had kids, I never understood what people meant when they said that marriage is hard work, but I totally get it now.  Once you become a parent and your children are at the center of your lives, it is easy to neglect the “family before the family” – the happy couple that once was – the partnership, the friendship, the twosome.

Cory and I began dating when we were 19 and 20, respectively.  We were married at 26 and had Ryan 4 years later.  During our 10 years of exclusive coupledom, we were at the center of each other’s worlds.  We shared the ins and outs of our respective jobs, discussed plans for the future, planned vacations, exercised together, did laundry together, split chores, watched our favorite shows, called to check in multiple times a day and basically just settled into being the adult version of “us”.  It was a period of growth and change, but we grew and changed together.  We didn’t know anything beyond Cory and Dani and that was good enough for us back then.

We knew that we would have children someday and above all else, I knew Cory would make an amazing Dad.  Although planning our wedding was wonderful, I was never the little girl who dreamed of her wedding day.  Instead, I was a little girl who dreamed of becoming a Mother.  When my friends and I played House, I was perfectly happy playing the Mom while they all fought over who would be the baby.

Following Ryan’s arrival and my subsequent struggle with Postpartum Depression, I was forced to figure out a new normal.  Cory went back to his job and his corporate identity, but my own identity was turned upside down and it was up to me to redefine myself.  No longer working, I was now wearing my “Mom Hat” full time and I wasn’t sure how to be anything else.  It wasn’t as if I had much time for anything aside from the little creature who was pretty much glued to me day and night.  I realized for the first time that Cory-and-Dani-The-Couple also needed to be redefined.  The twosome of the past was now a threesome.  But we also realized that the home base, the steady ground of this family was planted before we had children and we needed to nurture that.

As the months passed and our lives settled into more of a routine, Cory and I made sure to watch our favorite shows together, enjoy dinner dates and take weekend trips alone while Ryan was in the care of one or both sets of our parents.  We balanced our relationship as well as we could but of course there were times when one of us felt neglected, we weren’t connecting as well or we didn’t make enough time for each other.  It was during those times that we spoke about our feelings and tried to figure out how to remedy the situation.  I remember feeling overwhelmed at times, crying to Cory before we fell asleep about how I still didn’t feel normal even after 9 months had passed.  It wasn’t really until Ryan was about 15 or 16 months old that I truly felt comfortable as a parent.  I knew for my mental health that I needed to take off my “Mom Hat” once in a while and at that time we were fortunate enough to be able to hire someone to watch Ryan every Monday from 9-6 so I could do laundry, go food shopping, go to doctor’s appointments, take a nap, have lunch with a friend and basically anything I needed or wanted to do all by myself.  It was heavenly and I really felt an internal balance and peace.

Adding a second child to the mix proved to be more of a challenge.  Two people vying for our attention left less of it for ourselves and each other.  I no longer had the luxury of a caregiver once a week and in the midst of trying to juggle the kids’ schedules, maintaining our house and our daily lives, I decided to start a business.  At each stage in my life where I finally felt comfortable, I decided to complicate things by taking on something new.  I started watching less TV and ceased to make phone calls.  I stayed up until 3am working on my business because I didn’t want to take away from time with the kids.  I started to fall behind on laundry, keeping the house organized and staying ahead of things like birthday presents, blog posts, doctor’s appointments and the like.  The thought of Date Night just meant that my free time would be used for going out and I’d be falling behind on work.  Maybe I took on too much but I wanted to handle it all.

Nurturing our relationship wasn’t even on the agenda.  And that – my friends – is quite a dangerous way to run a family.

You see, I understand why people choose to give up on marriage, especially if there were doubts to begin with.  People grow apart.  Some choose to leave an abusive relationship.  Technology makes connections easier but also causes distractions that enable people to stray from their marriages more easily.  Some married too young.  There are lots of reasons why marriages don’t work.  It’s hard to know what forever means.

We didn’t have any doubts to begin with.  Overall, we have grown together and made sure to voice our needs to each other, but there have also been rough periods that made me realize that marriage is something that needs attention, work and compromise to succeed.

I believe that people make choices in a marriage.  Of course it is easy to daydream about some fictional life that you read about in a book or to compare something that a friend’s husband or wife did to that of your own partner.  Deciding to be with one person for life is a choice, and not one to be taken lightly.  Are people really prepared at 24, 25, 26 years old to choose a life partner?  Is it realistic to believe that two people will maintain a partnership through the devastating experience of losing a child, dealing with illness, family infighting and/or serious financial peril?  Even something as simple as choosing a different path than the one you started on, for example welcoming religion into your life or deciding to become a vegetarian?

I have never experienced a devastating loss to shake my marriage to the core so it may sound hypocritical, but I believe in marriage and I believe in our vows.  I shudder to picture life if one of us G-d forbid becomes seriously ill and Cory or I have to become the other’s caretaker.  I would surely curse the loss of normalcy, of what could have been, of experiences that we would no longer partake in… but I feel it would be a betrayal to the person I vowed to stand by through sickness and health.  It reminds me of my blase attitude upon doing our will and choosing life insurance.  Nobody ever really pictures needing either of these safeguards until old age, so we rarely think deeply about having to move forward should something happen to our spouse.

As much as I believe in marriage, I also believe in divorce.  You only have one life, after all, so you might as well be with someone you enjoy being with and who respects and cares for you.  There is also no room for violence, fear and abuse in a marriage.  But I think that if some couples who hit their first rocky patch would go the extra mile to try to save their marriages, to put in the hard work, to accept help and therapy, they could save their families.  I think as a society we are too quick to give up, to look elsewhere for validation and love and there are children whose lives are forever altered by the decisions of their parents.  We consciously bring these children into the world, don’t we owe it to them to give their family everything we have?

Marriage is hard.  Raising children is hard.  I struggle daily to find a balance and some days I fail miserably.  My husband has told me on numerous occasions that he felt neglected (most notably when I was getting my Masters and when I started the business).  It took some soul-searching and difficult conversations to understand how the other felt.  I can’t tell you why scheduling couple time for me isn’t as easy as making playdates, shuttling the kids to classes and doing errands.  My husband is amazing and he definitely deserves more of my time.

We work seamlessly as parents – sharing chores, playing with the kids, making sure they are happy, but we are also trying to make more time for ourselves as a couple.  I have been going to bed earlier so that I’m not always getting into bed hours after Cory has fallen asleep.  We are trying to find a babysitter so that we can start doing regular weekend dates again.  We used to go to Atlantic City a few times a year for a weekend but now we feel guilty leaving two kids with our parents.  It’s harder to do, but not impossible.  I think it’s so worth it to make an effort so we don’t end up one day at the dinner table in silence, with nothing left to talk about but our empty nest.

I have a friend who recently told me that she works hard to maintain and nurture her marriage.  Not only does she have sex multiple times a week, she knows that their marriage is her #1 priority.  I admire her and every time I hear about another divorce, it makes me realize just how lucky I am to have such love and support in my marriage.  It gives me the kick I need to focus on nurturing it more.

Did you find it easier or more difficult to nurture your marriage after having kids?

 

Share
Posted by Dani in Men, Parenting, Women and tagged with ,

Daddy Issues

Cory had just finished playing a game with Ryan and started putting his pajamas on.  I was hanging Ryan’s clean laundry in the closet. 

“Daddy, I like Mommy better than you because she plays with me more and stays home with me.”

Mind you, neither of us was shocked, as Ryan had been saying things like this for weeks.  He even said this particular sentence to Cory last night when they were alone during bedtime and I was out with some friends. 

The truth is that as Ryan has become increasingly aware about his immediate world and how it works, he has become increasingly angry with Cory.  Although he is surely entitled to his feelings, we wish he would understand more fully why Daddy goes to work, why he sometimes isn’t home for bedtime due to a work dinner or travel but that he has the most involved and wonderful Daddy that a kid could wish for. 

And he knows it.  As angry as he is with Cory, he is also becoming more attached to him.  He sometimes asks how many days until the weekend so that he can have “lots of Daddy time” and he is proud to have the Daddy that plays Monster/Tag/Water Balloons with him and his friends at parties while the rest of us just want to sit and relax. 

Cory felt so guilty earlier this month when Ryan kept asking about the weekend that he changed a Saturday overnight in Atlantic City with friends before a Sunday baseball game to a day trip so that he could spend the day with Ryan.  He took Ryan to the batting cage that day… 

I understand why Cory feels guilty, although I hate it because it’s undeserved.  And I know that he’s only four, but I wish Ryan understood how lucky he is to have a really involved Dad.

Meanwhile, Alexa makes up for (some) of it by shrieking her head off when Cory comes home, practically sprinting to the door and smacking his face with sloppy kisses as she’s scooped into his arms. 

Now that I think of it, maybe we shouldn’t focus on Ryan so much.  He’ll understand eventually, but a little girl with Daddy issues could make me a Grandma at 45.   

Off to talk to Cory about holding off on work dinners for the next 5 years…

Share

Happy Father’s Day – an insurance policy

When I was a little girl, I knew I had the best Dad. 

He made sure I felt special, safe and loved. 

He listened.  He created memories with me.  He explained things.  He lifted me up on his shoulders.  His happiness made me happy.  His disappointment made me feel miserable.  He was proud of me.  He came to my games and plays and concerts.  He was, and still is, the best.

I knew one thing about the man I would marry some day.  He would want children – and not just act as their Father, but their Daddy, too.  He would be present in their lives.  He would play and laugh and run and tackle and lift them up in the ocean.  He would cuddle and sing and dance and not be afraid of silliness. 

He would be an equal partner in parenting and in life.  He would be the kind of guy who would make my Dad feel like he could sleep at night, knowing that his daughter, and eventually his grandchildren, were in good hands. 

And so I was lucky enough to marry him.  And at our wedding, my Dad’s speech echoed those sentiments. 

Of course there are days when I yell at him to stop flossing his teeth in the living room or ask him if his hands are broken as he puts that lone dish in the sink, but I still thank my lucky stars every single day that he’s mine.  And he fumes when I’m still drying my hair and we’re 15 minutes late to wherever we’re going, and he can’t find a pair of socks in his drawer – ever – but he’s lucky, too.  (I think.) 

Even in the early years of dating, I knew Cory would be an amazing Dad.  He was tested right from the start when he had to step up and take control for those first six weeks of Ryan’s life when I could not care for him.  I feared Cory would leave me because I gave him a reality that was thoroughly unexpected for both of us, yet he never faltered.  He knew everything would be okay, even when I didn’t.  Although marriage and parenting are both so much more difficult than I ever imagined, there is nobody I would rather have by my side along this journey. 

One of Cory's first moments as a Father

Happy Father’s Day, Cory.  Here is an insurance policy, of sorts. 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words… so here you go, kids.  Don’t ever say your Dad never took you anywhere/did anything together with you/cheered you on/talked to you/showed affection/(insert anything here).  Because he did and I know he always will.  And you’re luckier than you’ll probably ever know.

Share

Dishwasher

I could leave a photo of me and another man in the dishwasher and it would take four years for Cory to find out about the affair.  (And yes, the photo is waterproof and indestructable for you overthinkers.)

Share
Posted by Dani in Men and tagged with

Boys Only

Sorry I’ve been MIA…

I’ve been working on a new project that will eventually wash away all of my remaining free time.  Not to be cryptic, but I will share more in the new year if all goes well.

So… how was your weekend?  Ours was nice.  On Saturday, Cory took Ryan for a ’Boys Only’ day in NYC. 

Before Alexa was born, before my parents came to stay, it was just the three of us – Daddy, Mommy and Ryan.  Although we do tons of family stuff together, it’s always nice to carve out special time. It was cute - Cory prepared a fun-filled day for the two of them – backpack filled with snacks, toys, our camera and monkey (who actually made it back home) - and they both came home exhausted.  

The simple act of riding a real train could have been the highlight of any day for Ryan, but throw in some subway rides, a space-themed character lunch and a trip to the Childrens’ Museum, and you have a winner!

Handful of photos from Ryan’s day with Daddy:

On the Long Island Railroad

First subway ride ever!

With Captain Orion at Mars 2112

With QT at Mars 2112

On Broadway. No idea why Cory chose this show as the backdrop - we really disliked Mamma Mia on B'way...

Subway sounds - Ry is not a fan of loud noises

With Diego at the Children's Museum of Manhattan

Taxi!

Waiting to find out the LIRR track assignment

Leaving a trail of muffin crumbs behind so NYC will never forget him...

 I’m already counting down the days years until my first ‘Girls Only’ day with Alexa. 

Let’s just say there will be a little bit of this:

American Girl Place

Some of this:

Afternoon Tea

And of course this:

Her first manicure

Share
Posted by Dani in Boys, Men

Secret spending?

Rolling along on the topic of secrets…

Every morning, I open up my browser to see what’s going on in the world as I hurriedly eat my breakfast.  Today I was greeted with an empty chair receiving a Nobel Peace Prize, the latest WikiLeaks drama and THIS.

These people are nothing short of disgusting.  They should be shot.  Why even get married if you’re going to do this to your spouse? 

I can’t even write about this anymore. 

I have to go cut tags before Cory gets home.

Sorry, there are no polls available at the moment.
Share
Posted by Dani in Men, News, Polls and Quizzes, Women and tagged with ,

Clutter

I wake up this morning and Cory is getting ready for work.  Usually he’s gone by the time the kids get up, but I hear him rummaging around in the bathroom. 

“”Hon, have you seen my deodorant?” ”

I remember the scene that unfolded before I fell asleep last night – I was all set to get under the covers when I heard Lexi crying.  It was a sleepy cry, so I let it go for a few minutes.  When it didn’t stop, I went in and gave her the paci.  She went back to sleep.  10 minutes later, she was up again.  This repeated itself 4 or 5 times until she fell asleep for good.  No idea what was keeping her up, but it lasted until around 2am. 

During this time, I cleaned the bathroom.  It looked cluttered to me and since I was going to be up anyway, I figured it was a good time to de-clutter the area around the sink.  During the day, I spend Lexi’s naptime doing or putting away laundry and other housework.  I pride myself on being neat and orderly and love making sure that everything is in its proper place.  Being a stay-at-home-Mom has its privileges, but it also makes me realize that a lot depends on me to make this household run.  It may seem like we sit at home all day, but one day I’d like to write a Mommy resume just to have on paper what it is that I do all day, every day.  I like that Cory never needs to worry if there is enough toilet paper or milk in the house, if the bills are paid, if the children’s nails are cut.  He does his job and I do mine.

On Cory’s side of the sink there is a woven basket that holds all of his toiletries.  I went through the basket and threw out stuff that looked like it was rarely, if ever, used and put non-essentials in the medicine cabinet so that there would be more space on the vanity.  Growing, yes growing out of the center of this basket was a mushroom.  Like a fungus.  Like this-is-the-grossest-thing-I’ve-ever-seen kind of thing.  So I guess in my haste to get rid of anything and everything that could cause fungus to grow in my freaking bathroom, I threw out  his deodorant.  In the 13 years we’ve been together, I only bought him aerosol so I figured that was just some backup or something.  Whatever.  Did I mention there was a mushroom??!!??

“Uh yes, I threw it out.  I thought you use aerosol.  I pretty much saved your health by going through that basket.”

Sounds of annoyance, followed by rummaging through the trash.  He recovers, kisses me goodbye, then skips down the steps to make his train. 

“WHERE ARE MY BROWN PUMAS?” he bellows.  “This is false cleaning.  I’m going to miss my train.”

False cleaning is what Cory claims I do when I clean up things that are just going to be taken out hours later.  I was having a friend over this morning and despise that there is a makeshift ‘shoe closet’ by the front door.  I didn’t realize he’d want his brown pumas any time soon (it happened to be casual Friday at work) so I brought up everything but his gym sneakers last night.  Is it that hard to bring your shoes upstairs every night and back down in the morning to keep our doorway clear?

He stomps up the stairs and informs me that I’m making him miss two trains now and then something about too much clutter in the house.  I don’t even hear the rest because my brain explodes.  I explain that there are 6 people living here (my parents are here temporarily) and that I bust my hump to make sure everyone is happy and that the house is clean.  You don’t want clutter yet you want 7 pair of shoes by the front door? 

Now let me make it clear that Cory does a wonderful job with the kids.  He is the most hands-on Dad that I know and he doesn’t blink when it comes to splitting up parenting duties.  But I feel personally attacked when I’m struggling to make sure the laundry is done, the house is clean and everything is running smoothly with the addition of a second child and the last thing I want to hear is that my house is cluttered. 

He finally makes it out the door.  Later that morning, we send e-mails to each other:

From: Dani

Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2010 11:49:48

To: Cory

I’m annoyed.  You were a complete a$$.  You grow a mushroom in the bathroom because you don’t keep your stuff clean and dry, you want a house without clutter yet you use our front door as a shoe closet.  You are perfectly capable of bringing shoes down in the morning.  I am sorry I accidentally threw out your deodorant.  I thought you used an aerosol.  I work hard to make sure everyone has what they need and you just complain about clutter.  There are 6 people in this house.  I can’t be everyone’s Mother.  If you don’t like something, clean it.  You can help out around the house aside from garbage.  You did in the apartment and now you don’t.  It’s your house, too.

And his reply:

From: Cory

Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2010 11:51:23

To: Dani

The clutter comment was directed at all of us.  I was VERY annoyed because I missed one train when I couldn’t find the deodorant and was about to miss another because of a similar issue with shoes. 

 I am happy without the basket – it looks less cluttered.  Thank you.

 I know you try your best – but there is just too much stuff in general in the huge house we bought.  The apartment was less cluttered.  Any more clutter and we can be on hoarders.  Jk.

 I’m not happy and let him know:

I find that to be insulting and you’re missing the point.  Take charge of something that bothers you to make my life easier.

He senses that this is about to blow up with me bringing up crap from 2004 or something and replies:

Don’t know why you thinking I am attacking you.  I’m not.

I felt attacked this morning, so I respond:

You did attack me this morning and you know you were wrong.  You also know you help with the kids but stopped helping with the house.  We added a kid, that means double the responsibility for me.  You freak about running low on gym shorts yet you never do it yourself.  It’s hard to get everything done all the time.  Then you want to know why I always wear sweats and don’t eat right or take care of myself.  The last thing on my mind is me. 

He takes a few minutes to think about it:

I clean up on the weekends when I have a bit more time.  But admittedly put little effort in during the week.  During the week I am home the least of anybody and two hours less than I used to be because of my commute.  During the week with the hour I have home at night before I start the sleep routine I don’t want to clean or do laundry. 

Okay, so whatever.  We really don’t fight often but it just struck a nerve.  We are admittedly frustrated with many responsibilities and less time for each other.  He works hard.  I work hard.  We need to get into a rhythm like we did after Ryan was a few months old. 

The day moves along and I’m counting down the minutes until Cory gets home.  It’s Friday.  I have a headache.  Ryan is being kind of wild.  I’d really love to just lay down.  Cory gets home around 6pm and comes down the basement where I’m playing with the kids.  I tell him I’d like to lay down.  He says go for it.

Next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes and Cory is in the room.  It’s dark.  I realize it’s Saturday and he’s getting himself and the kids ready for Ryan’s karate class while trying not to wake me.

Then I turn to the right and see the throw pillows neatly arranged on his side of the bed.  What’s this?  I ask aloud.  I don’t know – it was like that when I got home.  I then realize that it’s Friday night and I just took a great nap while he fed the kids and put them to bed.  He recounts how Ryan was a royal pain getting into his pajamas and Lexi tried to feed herself with her spoon.  How they are so cute and now are sleeping. 

I feel good.  Rested.  The events of today no longer matter.  We’ll figure it out.  He has his job and I have mine, but our most important job is the one that we do together.  It challenges us daily, as individuals and as a team but there is nobody I’d rather go through this chaotic life with than my best friend. 

Cory – thank you so much for taking the kids tonight so I could de-clutter my mind.  I love you.

Share
Posted by Dani in Men, Women and tagged with , , ,

Someone Else is Teaching My Kid

Being a teacher made me profoundly aware of the impact educators have on their students that extends beyond the content of their lessons.  I will go out on a limb and assume that you can recall the names of some of your elementary school teachers, but draw a blank when it comes to the Periodic Table of the Elements. 

I remember thinking that I had this huge responsibility to shape my students’ lives.  After all, I spent more hours with these children than their own parents!  I stayed up most nights preparing the most interesting, unique lesson plans replete with homemade props that were sure to be unforgettable.  I succeeded in implementing a Student of the Week program that was later adopted by the school as a whole.  I knew how my teachers had impacted my life and I wanted to do the same for my students.  I killed myself in the process, sacrificing sleep and sanity, but I was filled with pride and beamed when students told me that I made learning fun. 

When Ryan was born and I chose to be an at-home-Mom, I merged my love of teaching with my new role.  I loved teaching Ryan about his world so much that I mirrored a little classroom at home with a daily schedule, behavior charts, alphabet posters, a weather wheel, you name it. 

Whether it was colors and numbers, animal sounds or art, I loved that everything Ryan learned came from me.  He made a “choo choo” sound when the train went by?  I taught that to him.  He sang a nursery rhyme?  That was me, too.  Wow, Ryan knows his numbers?  All me.

Fast forward to the present.  Someone else is teaching my kid and I don’t like it one bit!  It’s not a personal thing, I love his teachers to death – Ryan is exposed to a dizzying amount of new songs every day, two foreign languages, art, computers, science, you name it.  I just hate that nowadays when he shares his newfound knowledge, I know most of it didn’t come from me -

“Mommy, did you know that grass is living but a rock is non-living?”

“Christopher Columbus taught people that the world is round and not flat.”

“Look – if you mix yellow and blue together, you get green.”

“Seeds come from nuts, flowers or fruit.  Look at the seeds on my strawberry!”

Feeling sadly obsolete, I try remember how wonderful it felt when I made a difference in the lives of other people’s children.  Didn’t I say I was with them for more hours than their own parents?   I mean, honestly, do kids even need parents? (I’m kidding, relax.)

In the end, I think we need all the “teachers” we can get in this life to help our kids on their journey from innocent child to responsible adult…

The speaker at the school assembly warning about the dangers of drinking and driving.

The neighbor who taught me how to jump rope.

The coach who made me run laps because I was late to practice. 

The friend who sat with me in silence, knowing that I didn’t want to talk but didn’t want to be alone, either. 

The boss who encouraged me to leave so I could realize my full potential. 

All are important, all are pieces to our complicated and beautiful puzzle.  I give my heartfelt thanks to all of my teachers and to the ones who will help shape my children’s lives in the future. 

Roll credits:

1st grade – Miss Casterlin: I loved how special it felt when the 5th graders came to read to us every week.  I remember being so proud that you posed for a picture with me at our class Halloween party.  The autograph book that you had the class make for me when I moved will always be remembered.

2nd grade – Miss Mirsky: I will never forget the amazing loft in the classroom that we could sit in during silent reading time.  It had pillows and you had to climb up a small ladder to gain entry.  Only two well-behaved students could sit there on a given day and I remember the feeling I got the first time I was chosen. 

3rd grade – Miss Thomas: You taught us how to balance a checkbook, play 7-Up and held an end-of-the-year party at your home where you played guitar and cooked for the entire classroom.  Having all of your students to your house?  Unforgettable.

4th grade – Miss DiBonaventuro: You taught us a song to remember how to spell your name and I still remember it to this day.  We made a life-sized paper maiche airplane in the classroom that we could walk through during our unit on Amelia Earhart and Charles Lindbergh.

5th grade – Mr. Ruzansky: You were the first teacher who made himself available to talk about friendships, relationships and anything on our minds after school hours.  You were more than a teacher.  And you were hysterical.  I remember on our last day of school we were really sad and you brought out this funny joke book.  There was a connect the dots page – with just two large dots labeled “1″and “2″.  It doesn’t sound funny the way I’m writing it, but it was hilarious. 

Thank you.

Share

Laundry

Laundry and I are frenemies.

Wait, is that the correct usage of ‘frenemy’? Let’s see…

Wikipedia defines a frenemy in the following manner:

“Frenemy” (alternately spelled “frienemy”) is a portmanteau of “friend” and “enemy” which can refer to either an enemy disguised as a friend or to a partner who is simultaneously a competitor and rival. The term is used to describe personal, geopolitical, and commercial relationships both among individuals and groups or institutions. The word has appeared in print as early as 1953.

Okay, so I can’t say laundry and I are rivals or competitors, so I guess we have more of a love/hate relationship. Yes, that seems right.

From Wikipedia:

A love-hate relationship (sometimes called a Frenemy) is a personal relationship involving simultaneous or alternating emotions of love and hate. The term is used most frequently in psychology, popular writing and journalism. It can be applied to relationships with inanimate objects, or even concepts.

Ooh, it even mentions ‘frenemy’ in the definition. Fab. This is what i meant to say.

So anyway. I don’t know how people with lots of kids do laundry. At any given time, I have about 12-15 loads that need to be done. I am always in some state of laundering my clothes. Cory has white t-shirts and gym clothes that are constantly in rotation, Lexi’s bibs and burp cloths, Ry’s dirt and food-stained clothes, all kinds of socks….

Ugh, I hate socks. Sorting, pairing, figuring out which ones have to be chucked because the bottoms are embarrassingly dirty.

But I also find laundry somewhat therapeutic. Warm, clean clothes just waiting to be hung up in closets organized by colors of the rainbow.

Oops, did I just divulge that?

Since Alexa was born, I have been behind on the laundry more than once. Cory came to me a couple of months ago and said he had no gym shorts. I said I thought they were clean, but probably buried under a large mountain on the couch. I checked. Nope, no gym shorts. He threatened to hire his parents’ housekeeper just to do our laundry a few times a week. No! That would mean I’ve failed as a housewife. I vowed to make sure his shorts were clean.

Then he said I wasn’t spending enough time with him because I was always doing laundry. Great. So we “hired” my Mother to do our laundry for a week to free up some of my time. At least my system was fast – I just had trouble getting from the folding stage to the putting away stage. My Mom on the other hand, meticulously separated the lights from the darks, cold from warm, delicates… you know, the way it’s supposed to be done. But putting only 5 articles of clothing at a time in the washer is hardly a timesaver. So we fired her. It was amicable.

I got my job back. This time, I separated Cory’s and my laundry into two separate hampers so that his clothing will now take precedence over everyone else’s. I mean, Ryan isn’t quite at the point where he complains if his blue Spiderman underwear isn’t in his drawer.

I think Cory is satisfied with this new system. Now if I could only lessen the mountain of kids’ clothes that has taken up residence on my couch. Anyone looking for a job?

Share
Posted by Dani in Men, Women and tagged with , , ,

Superwoman Gets Pneumonia

I have pneumonia. 

How on Earth did I get it, you ask?  Apparently, because I am not Superwoman.  Cory gave me this shocking diagnosis in the following e-mail this morning after I returned from the doctor’s office:


Mon, October 11, 2010 11:30:59 AM

From: Cory

To: Dani

Subject: Sorry for yelling

But this is ridiculous.  You think you are superwoman because you stay up late doing stuff.  But u aren’t.  You need sleep.  You need to eat better.  You need to take care of yourself.  I am really upset that you don’t take pride in taking care of yourself.  You are hurting the person I love the most.  This is a big deal to me. 

This is a HUGE warning sign. 

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry


He totally has a point.  But I’ve been doing this for years and pneumonia hasn’t come knocking until now.  I eat on the run, sleep less than 5 hours a night and generally overextend myself trying to make everyone and their Mother happy.  I don’t have to preach to the choir.  You Moms out there know what we do.  

But please, Superwoman, if you’re out there, tell me how you do it all because apparently I’ve failed miserably.

Oh, and if you are tired of feeling like you have to do it all and welcome pneumonia so you could get some much-needed rest, here’s a good article for you about doing away with SuperMom – she’s Superwoman’s evil twin or something like that. 

Killing Off Supermom  (courtesy of www.ModernMom.com)

Share
Posted by Dani in Men, Women and tagged with ,
Princessories by Playing Mom Follow Me on Pinterest Princessories by Playing Mom Photobucket NY Moms World