It has taken me a long time to be okay with myself. I struggled a lot in my early to late twenties about myself as a person. You know, the big questions: Who am I? Who do I want to be? How do I want to project myself to the world? What really makes me happy?
By the time I hit thirty, I definitely had a better grasp on my own self. I was happy. Healthy. Strong. I was in a good relationship. I had wonderful friends. I was close with my family. I knew what was important to me, and I lived my life accordingly. We took vacations, I went out for dinners with my friends. I pursued hobbies. I tried to make myself a better person. Life wasn't easy. I know it wasn't perfect. But I was really and truly happy.
Today, I am 33 years old, three years past that point where I felt like I had it figured out. Of course, because life is complicated and messy, I decided to throw a wrench in my happy life. My husband and I decided to procreate.
I am adding a tiny, squealing, complicated mass of cells to my life. It could be as soon as tomorrow, or nineteen days from now. Of course, this baby is wanted so very much. For a very, very long time, I knew I wanted to have a family with my husband. But when it comes down to actually happening, and finally acknowledging the fact that this baby is going to come out and stay out...forever...it's terrifying.
This year, I went to Mexico for a dear friend's wedding and drank copious amounts of bottled water instead of margaritas. I rang in my birthday with a non-alcoholic drink rather than bottles of champagne. I have abstained from deli meats and sushi for nearly forty weeks. I have accepted my growing waistline and increasing number on the scale with little more than a shoulder shrug. I stopped all training for races finding that peeing my pants was more of a probability than a possibility. My life has already changed.
I'm a little sad. My identity is changing once again. I sure hope it's a person that I like as much as I like the one I have discovered now. I hope that it's one that my husband loves as much as he loves me now. And I really hope it's one that this child will love and respect as it grows.
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
My Life in a Nutshell at 32 Weeks Pregnant
I woke up feeling marginally introspective today. I had intended to do my workout video*, but decided instead to slowly sip a second half-cup of coffee and play Candy Crush on my husband's work phone.** Why not, right? Also, I started thinking about writing too. As a disclaimer, this post isn't really about pregnancy. It's just about my life right now.
I used to write all the time. Clearly, I don't do that now. I have SO many reasons, guys. Number one is that I tend to have all of thoughts during the workday and guess what? BLOGGER IS BLOCKED AT WORK. So you're not privy to my random thoughts during the day. I'm too tired at night. Once I remember that I thought about something to write, I'm probably eating.
I also don't want to talk about my pregnancy all the time. I mean, those thoughts run from very serious TMI thoughts. I just don't want to talk about nipples or gas or hormones. (NO, YOU WERE CRYING HYSTERICALLY OVER THE BABY HATS WITH THE EARS ON THEM AT THE GAP WHILE YOUR HUSBAND LOOKED ON HELPLESSLY.) I've also had probably the easiest pregnancy in all the land, so I don't want to be all, "Pregnancy, no big deal." It is a big deal, it's beautiful, blah blah blah.
The fact is, right now my life is rather boring. I wake up in the morning, usually pretty tired despite putting myself to bed at a reasonable hour the night before. I allow myself some coffee (and yes, it's fall, can I tell you about pumpkin spice creamer? It's made my world.) and a little bit of time to check my twitter feed. I mean, I have to see what all the fun kids talked about after I put myself to bed. Sometimes I go to the gym or do my workout video. I usually eat one to two breakfasts. I pack another one for work sometimes if I'm really hungry. I stare at myself in the mirror for a good five minutes to see if I have developed stretch marks, or how much bigger I have gotten overnight. (It seems to happen a little bit more each day.) I go to work, listen to wbez.org, do some work, and take walks in the loop when it's nice. (There have been lots of really nice days.)
During the work day, I have found that I try not to leave my office. It's not that I'm antisocial, but I find that people tend to STARE at my stomach, then want to discuss my pregnancy with me, even if I have never spoken to them in my life. Sometimes I just wanna check my mail, and I don't want to discuss where I will be giving birth, thank you. I feel like that girl that just got a boob job and wears her boobs out all the time. People can't help but stare, but it makes me feel SO uncomfortable. MY EYES ARE UP HERE, GUYS. I don't even want to talk about the person who asked to see my belly button.
After work, I go home. I probably eat way more than I should, watch some TV, read a little, and then go back to bed. I let PIC do more cooking now. He still cleans up. I love him. I try to ignore the boxes and boxes of baby supplies that seem to have taken over my house. I realize that in a few short weeks, I will be 33. (HOLY CRAP.) Then I'm sleeping. Sometimes I get up a few times to pee, sometimes I make it all the way through the night. The next morning, I get up and do it all over again.
This is my life. To be honest, I've never been happier. Ya know, despite the whole fat ass and stomach thing.***
* Seriously, Tracy Anderson might be strange and advocate anorexic eating habits, but her pregnancy workout video has actually been a fun thing.
** I have always known that I have sausage-like fingers. Playing on an iphone 5 makes me feel like a giant. Seriously, how to people with REAL man hands use this thing. HULKSMASHIPHONE. It makes me love my husband's non-work Nexus 5 so much more. I play Candy Crush on that one too.
*** I know it's not a fat ass or stomach. I know it's just pregnancy. I know I'm not even THAT big. But it's fun to say that I'm fat. I mean, I seriously cannot fit through small spaces anymore. It's funny to me.
I used to write all the time. Clearly, I don't do that now. I have SO many reasons, guys. Number one is that I tend to have all of thoughts during the workday and guess what? BLOGGER IS BLOCKED AT WORK. So you're not privy to my random thoughts during the day. I'm too tired at night. Once I remember that I thought about something to write, I'm probably eating.
I also don't want to talk about my pregnancy all the time. I mean, those thoughts run from very serious TMI thoughts. I just don't want to talk about nipples or gas or hormones. (NO, YOU WERE CRYING HYSTERICALLY OVER THE BABY HATS WITH THE EARS ON THEM AT THE GAP WHILE YOUR HUSBAND LOOKED ON HELPLESSLY.) I've also had probably the easiest pregnancy in all the land, so I don't want to be all, "Pregnancy, no big deal." It is a big deal, it's beautiful, blah blah blah.
The fact is, right now my life is rather boring. I wake up in the morning, usually pretty tired despite putting myself to bed at a reasonable hour the night before. I allow myself some coffee (and yes, it's fall, can I tell you about pumpkin spice creamer? It's made my world.) and a little bit of time to check my twitter feed. I mean, I have to see what all the fun kids talked about after I put myself to bed. Sometimes I go to the gym or do my workout video. I usually eat one to two breakfasts. I pack another one for work sometimes if I'm really hungry. I stare at myself in the mirror for a good five minutes to see if I have developed stretch marks, or how much bigger I have gotten overnight. (It seems to happen a little bit more each day.) I go to work, listen to wbez.org, do some work, and take walks in the loop when it's nice. (There have been lots of really nice days.)
During the work day, I have found that I try not to leave my office. It's not that I'm antisocial, but I find that people tend to STARE at my stomach, then want to discuss my pregnancy with me, even if I have never spoken to them in my life. Sometimes I just wanna check my mail, and I don't want to discuss where I will be giving birth, thank you. I feel like that girl that just got a boob job and wears her boobs out all the time. People can't help but stare, but it makes me feel SO uncomfortable. MY EYES ARE UP HERE, GUYS. I don't even want to talk about the person who asked to see my belly button.
After work, I go home. I probably eat way more than I should, watch some TV, read a little, and then go back to bed. I let PIC do more cooking now. He still cleans up. I love him. I try to ignore the boxes and boxes of baby supplies that seem to have taken over my house. I realize that in a few short weeks, I will be 33. (HOLY CRAP.) Then I'm sleeping. Sometimes I get up a few times to pee, sometimes I make it all the way through the night. The next morning, I get up and do it all over again.
This is my life. To be honest, I've never been happier. Ya know, despite the whole fat ass and stomach thing.***
* Seriously, Tracy Anderson might be strange and advocate anorexic eating habits, but her pregnancy workout video has actually been a fun thing.
** I have always known that I have sausage-like fingers. Playing on an iphone 5 makes me feel like a giant. Seriously, how to people with REAL man hands use this thing. HULKSMASHIPHONE. It makes me love my husband's non-work Nexus 5 so much more. I play Candy Crush on that one too.
*** I know it's not a fat ass or stomach. I know it's just pregnancy. I know I'm not even THAT big. But it's fun to say that I'm fat. I mean, I seriously cannot fit through small spaces anymore. It's funny to me.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Reason Number 43 why I can be a total jerk.
About a month ago, P.I.C. and I got into a discussion about romance, particularly, his lack of romance.* This is how the conversation went.
FA: "I mean, you never cook me dinner. I always menu plan, make the grocery list, and cook dinner. It's fine, but it'd be nice if you surprised me by cooking once in awhile."
P.I.C.: "I cook you dinner."
FA: "Name one time OTHER than the night you proposed."
P.I.C.:"uhhhhhh"
FA: "And you have never sent me flowers at work. I know you bring them home from Trader Joe's sometimes, but that doesn't count anymore. That doesn't take any effort, they put those flowers right in front so anyone realizes flowers are a good idea."**
P.I.C.: "Um, I don't know how to send flowers."
FA: "WHAT? How do you not know how to send flowers?"
The conversation ensued with both of us breaking into laughter at various points. He's so funny. Fast forward to two weeks ago and my birthday. He told me he was leaving work early to run an errand for my birthday.
FA: "Ooooh, are you getting me birthday flowers? NICE."
P.I.C.: "Noooo. Sorry."
FA: "Sigh."
Spoiler alert, he didn't get me flowers on my birthday. The next night, I got so bothersome about it. Mind you, I'm not really upset about this, just in a rather tenacious mood. (We'd had a few drinks, and I was relentless with my teasing.)
Eventually, P.I.C. got fed up with my antics. Perhaps they weren't as amusing as I viewed them. He sighed hugely and told me, "YOU ARE RUINING THE SURPRISE."
Wait, what? Apparently, a few days before my birthday, he had actually pre-ordered me flowers to be sent to me the Monday he was in London. He had taken our jokey argument to heart and done something completely and utterly romantic. Flowers on my birthday? Nice. Flowers just because he wanted me to know he misses me? Romantic. Perfect.
My response to this revelation? EWWWWPS. Lucky for me, this is just my personality and he wasn't too upset at me. He laughed it off.
Sure enough, Monday afternoon, I got a call to the front desk and received these beauties.
I do feel like a total jerk, but having these flowers on my desk has reminded me how lucky I am to have a husband who would take a badgering like I gave him and still let those flowers be delivered. I know you can see their beauty, but the smell is outstanding. I'm happy.***
*I realize that this is a dumb problem. I also need to acknowledge that my husband would do absolutely anything I wanted or asked of him if it was possible. I'm just a typical female and expecting him to read my mine, obviously.
**This make me look like a REAL asshole. Sorry. I kind of am.
***I also REALLY love that my husband patronized the flower shop with a purpose, Urban Meadows. This made me even happier knowing that my brattiness did some good. (RIGHT?)
FA: "I mean, you never cook me dinner. I always menu plan, make the grocery list, and cook dinner. It's fine, but it'd be nice if you surprised me by cooking once in awhile."
P.I.C.: "I cook you dinner."
FA: "Name one time OTHER than the night you proposed."
P.I.C.:"uhhhhhh"
FA: "And you have never sent me flowers at work. I know you bring them home from Trader Joe's sometimes, but that doesn't count anymore. That doesn't take any effort, they put those flowers right in front so anyone realizes flowers are a good idea."**
P.I.C.: "Um, I don't know how to send flowers."
FA: "WHAT? How do you not know how to send flowers?"
The conversation ensued with both of us breaking into laughter at various points. He's so funny. Fast forward to two weeks ago and my birthday. He told me he was leaving work early to run an errand for my birthday.
FA: "Ooooh, are you getting me birthday flowers? NICE."
P.I.C.: "Noooo. Sorry."
FA: "Sigh."
Spoiler alert, he didn't get me flowers on my birthday. The next night, I got so bothersome about it. Mind you, I'm not really upset about this, just in a rather tenacious mood. (We'd had a few drinks, and I was relentless with my teasing.)
Eventually, P.I.C. got fed up with my antics. Perhaps they weren't as amusing as I viewed them. He sighed hugely and told me, "YOU ARE RUINING THE SURPRISE."
Wait, what? Apparently, a few days before my birthday, he had actually pre-ordered me flowers to be sent to me the Monday he was in London. He had taken our jokey argument to heart and done something completely and utterly romantic. Flowers on my birthday? Nice. Flowers just because he wanted me to know he misses me? Romantic. Perfect.
My response to this revelation? EWWWWPS. Lucky for me, this is just my personality and he wasn't too upset at me. He laughed it off.
Sure enough, Monday afternoon, I got a call to the front desk and received these beauties.
I do feel like a total jerk, but having these flowers on my desk has reminded me how lucky I am to have a husband who would take a badgering like I gave him and still let those flowers be delivered. I know you can see their beauty, but the smell is outstanding. I'm happy.***
*I realize that this is a dumb problem. I also need to acknowledge that my husband would do absolutely anything I wanted or asked of him if it was possible. I'm just a typical female and expecting him to read my mine, obviously.
**This make me look like a REAL asshole. Sorry. I kind of am.
***I also REALLY love that my husband patronized the flower shop with a purpose, Urban Meadows. This made me even happier knowing that my brattiness did some good. (RIGHT?)
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Life's too short to not eat bacon on a Tuesday.
I had a spectacularly shitty Monday. (YES, I HAD A CASE OF THE MONDAYS COMPOUNDED WITH ANNOYING THINGS HAPPENING ALL DAY LONG.) This morning, P.I.C. and I got up early to run. When we got home, I decided to make some bacon with our eggs. Why not, right? Life's too short to not eat the bacon in your fridge when it sounds good.
I started thinking, though. What are some other things that I have determined to just do because life is too short?
1. Well, see above. Bacon. Obviously.
2. Spend time with friends that love you as much as you love them.
3. Eat at good restaurants. Pay entirely too much to do so.
4. Make a plan and pay off the credit cards you used to eat at good restaurants. (Life's too short to be burdened by debt.) Same with the student loans.
5. Start a blog. Complain about things. Start to do things about them. Life's too short to complain without taking action.
6. Wear pretty underwear. Dress nicely. Wear skirts. Have fun jewelry. Do my hair. (Well, sometimes.)
7. Send cards. I love receiving cards. Why not spread that love elsewhere? Birthday cards, I love you cards, thinking of you cards...just because cards...snail mail is my favorite.
8. Take photographs. I love looking through my old pictures and remembering good times past. Photographs help.
9. Take care of myself. Be the best I can be. This means I need to exercise. In order to exercise, I need to have a goal. Therefore, I run. Am I a runner yet? Who knows. I do know I feel pretty awesome these days.
10.Tell your friends and family you love them often.
11. Daily hair washing is not REALLY that important. Seriously. I might do my hair, but it doesn't mean I have to wash it. Life's WAY too short for that.
I know these things are different for everyone. Some people might say, "Life's too short to spend it on a treadmill." Good for you. Prioritizing these things are definitely a way to bring yourself to your happiest. I love bacon. I (sometimes) like running. I love not washing my hair. I am at my happiest. Fact.
Happy Tuesday, everyone!
I started thinking, though. What are some other things that I have determined to just do because life is too short?
1. Well, see above. Bacon. Obviously.
2. Spend time with friends that love you as much as you love them.
3. Eat at good restaurants. Pay entirely too much to do so.
4. Make a plan and pay off the credit cards you used to eat at good restaurants. (Life's too short to be burdened by debt.) Same with the student loans.
5. Start a blog. Complain about things. Start to do things about them. Life's too short to complain without taking action.
6. Wear pretty underwear. Dress nicely. Wear skirts. Have fun jewelry. Do my hair. (Well, sometimes.)
7. Send cards. I love receiving cards. Why not spread that love elsewhere? Birthday cards, I love you cards, thinking of you cards...just because cards...snail mail is my favorite.
8. Take photographs. I love looking through my old pictures and remembering good times past. Photographs help.
9. Take care of myself. Be the best I can be. This means I need to exercise. In order to exercise, I need to have a goal. Therefore, I run. Am I a runner yet? Who knows. I do know I feel pretty awesome these days.
10.Tell your friends and family you love them often.
11. Daily hair washing is not REALLY that important. Seriously. I might do my hair, but it doesn't mean I have to wash it. Life's WAY too short for that.
I know these things are different for everyone. Some people might say, "Life's too short to spend it on a treadmill." Good for you. Prioritizing these things are definitely a way to bring yourself to your happiest. I love bacon. I (sometimes) like running. I love not washing my hair. I am at my happiest. Fact.
Happy Tuesday, everyone!
Friday, January 14, 2011
My eyes are like leaky faucets.
Obviously, I have become a woman obsessed. Wedding planning has taken over my life. I mean, it was our decision to plan it in three and a half months, so perhaps we have brought this on ourselves. Of course, planning a wedding in such a short amount of time means lots of stress.
Anyone who has had theintense pain pleasure of planning a wedding knows that it breeds stress in levels unknown to most folks that have never been in this position. As of this week, my stress has started to manifest itself in tears. It's not even the actual planning of the wedding that makes me cry. It is other external factors. Oh, someone posted an article about an abandoned dog? SOB. That commercial about the three-day breast cancer walk? SOB SOB SOB. I lost a motion that I should have won? SOB (SCREEEAM) SOB (and please don't tell anyone else I cried over a motion. Please.)
Yes, part of it is my lack of sleep. I truly believe that if I had a pensieve like Dumbledore (my FIRST Harry Potter reference...so excited!) and could take those troublesome thoughts out of my head, I would be able to rest at night. For now, it's all thoughts of wedding stuff. Before all of this, I swore that this wedding would not consume me. Now, here I am, all-consumed. The one thing that helps me out is knowing that as of May 1, it'll just be me and him, and the wedding will be dunzo. Hooooray. He will be my P.I.C. officially. Although, I feel that to commemorate this event, I should reflect his status change with a nick-name change. Any suggestions?
For now, can you please refrain from sending me any darling forwards that might reference abandoned puppies? Can you please not discuss any sort of tragedy in my presence? Most of all, pretty please with sugar on top, can you please not say that I am now a Virgo and not a Libra??? I really appreciate it.
Or if you can make me a wizard and provide me with a pensieve. That would work too.
Anyone who has had the
Yes, part of it is my lack of sleep. I truly believe that if I had a pensieve like Dumbledore (my FIRST Harry Potter reference...so excited!) and could take those troublesome thoughts out of my head, I would be able to rest at night. For now, it's all thoughts of wedding stuff. Before all of this, I swore that this wedding would not consume me. Now, here I am, all-consumed. The one thing that helps me out is knowing that as of May 1, it'll just be me and him, and the wedding will be dunzo. Hooooray. He will be my P.I.C. officially. Although, I feel that to commemorate this event, I should reflect his status change with a nick-name change. Any suggestions?
For now, can you please refrain from sending me any darling forwards that might reference abandoned puppies? Can you please not discuss any sort of tragedy in my presence? Most of all, pretty please with sugar on top, can you please not say that I am now a Virgo and not a Libra??? I really appreciate it.
Or if you can make me a wizard and provide me with a pensieve. That would work too.
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