Valentines Day is so different when you have been with the same man for over 12 years (married for seven). I remember the first time I went to visit him at school. We were newly dating and it happened to be Valentines Day. Oh the pressure! Do I get him a gift? Do we even acknowledge it's Valentines Day? Is he going to get me anything? If he does, is he into this more than I am? If he doesn't maybe he’s not into this at all? It turned out to be the perfect Valentines Day for a new couple. We had dinner as if it was any other night, but when we got back to his apartment, he surprised me with homemade molten chocolate cakes. Um, a guy who not only cooks, but can make his own molten lava cake? I probably knew I was going to marry him right then.
I’ve always hated Valentines Day. I never had a proper Valentine. I swear I was jinxed by my 8th grade boyfriend. We will just call him asshole. Asshole dumped me the night before Vday when I was in 8th grade. And to make it even worse, my so-called best friend knew it was going to happen, went with me to buy him cards and a gift, and didn't tell me. What a bitch! And what an asshole! Who dumps his girlfriend the night before Valentines Day? I had already picked out my outfit. It was going to be my first real Valentines Day. Of course my life was over. I couldn't show my face at school the next day. My mom made me go anyway and I hated her for 48 hours.
Once I got to college, Valentines Day became Galentines Day. There was the year my single girlfriends and I bought 10 pints of ice cream and 10 spoons, passed them around and watched chick flicks all night. And lets not forget the year my sorority sisters and I made pot brownies at the house using the toaster oven in the basement. Good times! Amazing times!
Once I started dating my husband, I loved Valentines Day. I finally had a Valentine! What fabulous place would he be taking me for dinner? What creative gift would he get me? What sexy gift could I give him?
Now, Vday is just like any other day. We always do cards, but don't always do gifts. Sometimes we set a $25 limit to see how creative we can be at that budget. We've stopped going out to dinner. All the restaurants here do a set menu and jack up the prices. These are all restaurants we go to regularly and it makes us angry. What can I say, we are food snobs!
When you're a mom, what you want for Valentines Day completely changes. My toddler stayed quiet in his room until 7:45 this morning...the best gift he could have given me. I actually had the time to shower and dry my hair in peace. We went food shopping which I’m so happy about because it means I don't have any errands to do tomorrow. I got to binge watch three episodes of a show while my husband entertained our toddler. And our toddler went to bed without a fight and without any tears. No “one more book.” No screaming. No negotiating. A perfect day!
I wasn't planning on blogging today. But I've been thinking a lot about my week and I just had to write my thoughts down. When I posted my last blog, four of my closest friends freaked out. They all agreed I need to communicate my feelings to my husband. I agree. And I will…in my own time. That time is coming very soon. I promised them and I meant it. They wanted to make sure I wasn't going to do anything impulsive or stupid like run away or have an affair. I reassured them that while yes, I'm going through a bit of a midlife crisis, I won't do either of those things. They worried about my husband's feelings and what he would think about the fact that I put our sex life out there for the masses to read. Well, I think I only have about 10 readers and I think he will have to learn to be okay with it...because writing my truth has become my everything, my life line. I think he will understand, eventually.
Earlier this week, my husband and I attended the funeral of a close friend's father. He had been sick for a long time, but that doesn't make losing a loved one any easier. At the funeral, crying while our friend broke down reading a eulogy for his dad, my husband held my hand. He held my hand when we left temple, arrived at the cemetery, and watched as they lowered the coffin into the ground. He held my hand the next night when we went back to temple for Shiva. He always holds my hand.
The next night he made me hard-boiled eggs, steak, and chicken so I could have a few protein days. He was in the kitchen way past our bed time. Yesterday afternoon, he let me nap for two hours because he knew I was crashing. While I slept, he emptied the dishwasher and put all the groceries away. Last night he made my dinner smoothie. I didn't ask him to do any of this. The point is, he is a good man and even though I'm going through a mid life crisis about motherhood, marriage, and sex, I'm not going anywhere. I do plan to talk to him honestly and openly about all of this when I'm ready and I'm getting more and more ready by the day. And I'm hopeful that this experience will just help us grow together as I figure all my shit out.
And maybe that's why Valentines Day isn't a big deal when you have been with your person for years. Because in a way, it's just like any other day. My husband doesn't need a holiday to do the things he does everyday. He did get me two beautiful orchids and lots of cards and I'm pretty sure he ordered the pajamas I've been wanting. He told me not to get him a gift. But I did anyway. A tin of heart shaped Nestle crunch bars (his favorite chocolate)...and a blow job. Okay, maybe Vday isn't necessarily like every other day. He doesn't get a blowjob everyday!
Happy Valentines Day to all!
I'm not sure how I'm feeling right now or how I should be feeling. Angry? Anxious? Guilty? Resentment? Fear? Exhausted? Yes, definitely exhausted. Maybe that is the problem when you're a mom. The divide between how you are actually feeling and how you should be feeling or how you think you should be feeling. For the past few nights, my almost three year-old has not only fought going to sleep, but he has woken up screaming like clockwork right around midnight. It doesn't help that we are on vacation and he shares a tiny room with my husband and me. He sleeps in his own bed next to ours.
And who do you ask wakes up with the little one? Well, his mom of course! I actually physically wake up the minute I hear him, like I have some internal mom radar. Where is my husband you might ask? Oh, he is next to me, sleeping soundly and snoring even louder. In creeps the resentment and anger. I want to scream at him, "HOW COULD YOU SLEEP THROUGH YOUR CHILD WAKING UP CRYING???!"
Not to mention, my child decides he wants to go potty and for some reason when I flush, the toilet starts overflowing. So there I am, in the bathroom, towels on both feet gliding on the floor to soak up the water while holding tiny human in my arms all to the musical accompaniment of my husband's garbage disposal sounding snores. When I finally get our child back to sleep, he rolls over towards me, strokes my hair as if to comfort me. I don't even know if he is awake. I don't care. Don't touch me! I want to punch you in the face!
Then of course I can't fall back to sleep. Too many thoughts going around and around in my head. Husband, I can't stand you right now. Child, why are you doing this again? Hello fear and anxiety. I'm so not cut out for this. This parent shit is way too hard. I hate this. How am I even old enough to be the one to do this for a child when I remember my mom doing it for me like yesterday. I love that little boy so damn much. I hate when he cries and gets upset or scared.
Is he even scared or is he manipulating me? He is so good at manipulating me. It doesn't take more than a hug and an "I love you mommy." No, I will not let him sleep in our bed. I won't start that habit which I know is impossible to break. I really want to let him sleep in our bed when he asks because we can cuddle. And it means I can sleep too. I love sleep. Come on B, stop thinking and go back to sleep. Your husband has no issues falling and staying asleep. Why can't you?
When does this get easier? Does it ever get easier? Other moms tell me it does at age 5. Age 5? Fuck! That's two years away! I'm not a patient woman. And I just want to sleep! Let me sleep! I'm not ever taking my small child on vacation ever again until he is 5, unless I can bring a nanny. How do people do this with more than one child? Everybody does, but I never will. Maybe I don't want to be a mom this week. Enter guilt. Shouldn't I be cherishing these moments?
When he is 5, will I miss when he was 2? Did I waste that time complaining and missing the days before being a mom? When I could sleep all night and wake up late and come and go as I please. Or when I didn't want to punch my husband in the face most of the time?
Finally, exhaustion. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Happy New Year and welcome to my blog: The Medicated Mommy. I know, how cliché to launch your first blog post on January 1. And even more cliché, to actually write "new year, new me". But it’s true. This is my year. 2016, I’m going to make you my bitch. This endeavor has been a long time in the making and I am finally sitting down to make it a reality. I have been pent up and repressed (in so many ways) for too long and this blog will be my release. My space. My safe place to write honestly about anything and everything I feel like writing about. No topic is off limits. It’s so safe that I won’t even be giving my husband the address (for now). Duh, I need to be able to write about him too! I hope you'll come along for the ride. A little bit of background. As the About Me page states in fewer words, I’m a 34 year-old wife and stay at home mom to an adorable and intelligent, yet bossy, strong-willed, energizer bunny-type toddler. I should also mention I’ve been married for 7 years, but with my husband for 12 and things do get monotonous as I’m sure you all know.
I’m Northern and my heart belongs to New York City, but I’ve been living in the South for quite some time and guess what: It’s booooring! And slow and did I mention that I’m booooored? And people settle for good enough and I want amazing. Oh and there is no Soul Cycle. I just want to live near a Soul Cycle. I'm in Soul Cycle denial. I have the app on my phone and wear all their gear (which I obviously have to order online), even though the closest one requires getting on an airplane. Is that too much to ask for?
But I will say three nice things about the South. 1. My nanny. She is fabulous, loves my son to pieces, and I would fall to pieces without her. If she wasn't mine, I would probably poach her. 2. Private school. It's way cheaper and I don't have to write essays to get my kid into any of them. And no-one needs to write letters either. 3. Pimento cheese. I didn't even know it existed until I moved south. I could eat pimento cheese on everything. And restaurants put it on everything. (Maybe this isn't really a good thing).
Also, I’m realizing like so many of us stay at home moms do, that after almost three years of being a mom, I need more. What am I passionate about? What's my identity apart from being a mom and a wife? What excites me? I didn’t love any of my career choices prior to having my son and then I had my son and whoa boom - Post Partum Depression. I will blog a lot more about that as time goes on but for now what you need to know is this: when I got better and better and even better, I learned to be me and me is okay and good enough. I don’t apologize for who I am as a woman, wife, mom, friend, and now writer. I own it and now I’m sharing.
So one therapist, two anti-depressant prescriptions, hours of analyzing, tons of text messages venting to girlfriends, and lots of inner monologues later, I’m finally ready to write, which is what I think I’ve wanted to do all along. I just have better material now.
I should also make it clear that I’m blogging for me. Yes, I hope that others relate to my stories, learn to find some humor in all the craziness of our lives, even find a sense of community here; but this is my place to write my truth, no matter how ugly it might be. Marriage and mommyhood are bitches even on the good days and I’m not going to pretend or sugarcoat any of it. So stay tuned because it’s going to be a bumpy, emotional, laugh out loud, hot mess, train-wreck, sometimes offensive, sometimes hold hands and sing Kumbaya, in your-face kind of ride. Buckle up!