23Feb2010

So Adam has come and gone again. I didn't blog, because I was frankly too busy and too happy to blog. lol.
As he was to arrive, I went through the gamut of emotions. I felt anxious, nervous, excited, really excited, then really really excited.
Taylor and I went to the airport and we were a touch early, so we waited by the bag claim. I was really anxious, because before he'd left, we'd been sort of out of sorts. I have to be totally honest, here; now that I feel differently; I don't feel guilty for being honest and open about how I felt. It took me awhile to really miss Adam. We'd been fighting a lot, and I was relieved to have a bit of space between us at first. I was angry. It was nice at first, to have alone time, to not be fighting or have our home be it's own war zone. Who knows now what it was all about; but we weren't on the same page. I'm sure a bit of it had to do with him leaving, on his part..the stress, the sadness of leaving his baby. I don't want to reopen old wounds by trying to psychoanalyze our relationship anymore than I already have. (and we know how I obsess, so I have done plently of overanalysis). But, I was angry. I did eventually cool off to a point where I started to appreciate what he went through on a daily basis when he was home. I was getting tired, overwhelmed, overworked, overstressed, confused about how to raise our daughter by myself. I stressed about what he would think of the job I'd been doing while he was gone - with the car, the house, the baby. It's all too easy to judge when you've never walked in the other person's shoes. I thought about how he'd worked from 5 am to 5pm and how I'd been unrelenting on needing help the moment we got home. I thought about how I felt when I came home, how I had to push through to get dinner done and dishes and manage to have patience with Taylor when she made enormous messes. I thought of all this, and I forgave him. I forgave him for his impatience, for his irritability. I finally understood. And I also appreciated him more. He was always a great dad, and has over the years become a pretty good husband. (Yes, I am aware that I am no stepford wife myself.)
So when he came home and we saw him for the first time; the awkwardness was malleable - we knew it was there (or at least I did) and I hoped it would change. Taylor didn't know him, and he'd come with a teddy bear; which warmed her but not quite enough to allow him to hug or carry her. The hurt was visible on his face, and my heart wrenched for him. I felt awful, because I knew she'd react this way; but I knew that he'd hoped she wouldn't. A few days, I told him, and they'd be inseperable.
He seemed tired, exhausted from travel and now his face wore her rejection so painfully. His face was twisted for the next two days as he fought to win her love, and every time, it looked as though he might cry.
If Adam is known for anything though, it's his persistence. He didn't give up, patiently receiving any attention or affection she'd choose to lavish upon him. One of the first intimacies she bestowed upon him was kissing him awake when he'd "fallen asleep". He must've played that game with her for hours in those first few days - just for those few precious kisses.
It was hard to watch all this unfold, and be helpless to change the situation. But I knew what was keeping her from leaping forward. It was apparent that there was some conversation that we neeeded to have, some fighting it out we needed to do. We tend to do that. We fight each other to love each other. Sometimes, we need a healthy dose of drinks, conversation, and tears. Sometimes, that's what it takes for us to come back to each other.
For me, it was the unspoken and untalked about maybechoice that I'd made while he was gone. Having more children; like the actual pregnancy and childbirth process was horrific for me - physically and emotionally. I am truly terrified of ever doing it again and would be perfectly content not to. (on the other hand, it would be great to have bunches of whittle t's...I'm just afraid of not making it through another one) I didn't tell him any of that while he was gone, because it just isn't a conversation you have over skype. I was terrified that it would be a deal breaker for him. Through our drunken tears and (yes, both of us lol) we came to a compromise. We'd do all the research on what it would mean if we did it again; but he'd love me even if I never could bring myself to go through it again. Of course, he wants a son or even another daughter; but he understood my fear. It was as though someone had made me weightless in that moment. My shoulders felt normal again, not weighted down with fear of wife failure. Who knows what else we talked about, but the next day...we were us again.
I think it may have been that day that Taylor fell in love with her daddy. It was the first time that she wanted him and not mommy. I didn't feel rejected; in fact, I felt quite the opposite. We were a family and a whole one again. We had a few days before the parents-in-law joined us (and an extra one due to 1435650 inches of snow in Maryland) and they were glorious. I fell in love with Taylor's daddy again, and we were complete. I wasn't worried about our marriage anymore, and was quickly remembering everything I love about this man of mine.
When the parents arrived, I was asleep because it was so late; but the guest room was ready and they came in with no problems. I must say that I am (and I'm not saying this because I know they read it, lol) really lucky because I have great in laws. Yes, they have different political views, and I know they hate that I don't call more; but they are great. We had a blast with them, and mostly for the first few days - we stayed home. Poor Mom2 got sick and had a bad cold the first few days, so she wasn't really in the mood to be out and about which was fine because we all hung around and got to know each other again. We played card games, which I miserably lost; Adam and his dad installed his new car stereo and hydraulic hood lifter things for his car, they moved the chandelier to hang over the dining room table in it's new location and installed a fan where it used to be.
I even went to Lowe's with Adam and his dad one day while Mom2 stayed home with the punkus maximus. I must say, I did know better when they had a list of things to get for the fan and chandelier move, and they said "We'll meet you in the fan section. We'll just be five minutes." I knew. I knew.
I found a fan, had it picked out and on a cart; and also had a new towelbar for the one that broke in the powder room within fifteen minutes.
We were there for two hours.
I tease, but I am grateful for the amazing job that they did. They also installed the new towel bar, a motion sensing light for the garage, new dimmer switch for the chandelier, and figured out that the light switch that I thought for the last 3.5 years that went to nothing- goes to the outlet that I thought for the last 3.5 years was broken.
Try to contain your laughter.
Adam had a great visit with his dad, and I enjoyed having another woman around; especially one with experience that could reassure me when I wasn't clear on Miss Taylor's behavior. Mom2 had some great ideas, of which I have employed some of them already. For instance, when Taylor refuses socks; I hold up two pairs and let her choose. Then if she still refuses, I remind her that she already chose one. Believe it or not, it mostly works. Even when she still refuses, it's much less assertive and almost like she knows I got her. lol. (her daddy's daughter...logical)
I enjoyed that Adam did have one day of pure Taylor without anyone around while I worked. It helped him to also see what I have been going through while he was gone. I think he thought it was a lot easier. He tended to give me less of a hard time about why certain things weren't done once he had a taste of trying to vacuum while Taylor sitting. He did say that day that they were having too much fun for a nap. Good, I thought, because I knew that was an awesome day for both of them.
He taught her how to jump around like a frog going "ribbit ribbit"; only she says "riddit riddit". He taught her to oohooh ahh ahh like a monkey, and to tittle tittle (tickle tickle). She saw him naked when he was getting into the shower one day, and it was hilarious for me and totally awkward for them. She looked, then looked away, then looked back and stared. Right. At. His. Penis. I bursted into laughter at the perplexed look on her face, and he turned away quickly, thoroughly embarrassed. I explained the usual, daddy's a boy; etc. It had no effect and she kept trying to peek in on his shower. I'm sure she was wondering where his "gyna" was.
I dealt with awkward texts from family members (ehem, dad) in all caps asking about my hemmorhoids and such. LOL
Serves me right for blogging it. Adam and the parents, also wise to the wax situation, all laughed at me about it.
We had a Taylor free day, and she went to Darina's and stayed late while we went to Bodies - The Exhibition and the Melting Pot for dinner. It was tremendous. The next day we all, including the Delmos (who also joined us for the melting pot dinner fresh from buying Delmo a new Chevy truck (and it's super nice)), went to the Woodland Park Zoo; which is a phenominal zoo. Taylor loved it; and still my favorite exhibit is the gorillas.
The parents left, and Adam stayed two more days; we tried to remain cheerful and excited; but his impending departure loomed like Seattle rain clouds in January. This was a truly wonderful visit. I loved every second of him, and am reminded again why we do what we do every day. I know why we suffer through all the mediocre, stressful, lonely days. Because the ones we have together, they make it totally worth the sacrafice. I love my husband and I can't wait until he comes home again.

5Feb2010

So the eve of the day of return is upon me. Adam has been sans communique since Mondayish when he was leaving Iraq the next day. Finally today, I get a text from his email. He's in Germany and expected to land in Dallas tonight. He'll be in Seattle tomorrow.
As the day has drawn closer, but still remained unclear it's been a weird anticipation. I didn't know when he was coming until today. And now, the butterflies have arrived. I got the text just as Taylor and I were walking into Costco. As we entered, I read the text and wanted to shout it out loud for the whole (extremely packed pre-superbowl) crowd. There was one woman standing near as I overzealously told Taylor that Daddy was coming home tomorrow and that Mommy wanted to cry. (Side note: Does it say something about socialization that I automatically capitalized Daddy, and had to backspace to capitalize Mommy?) Needless to say, the trip to Costco was pretty great. In fact, the whole day since then has been pretty good. It's 9pm now, and in less than 24 hours he will be here.
I'm super nervous. And super excited. Taylor has grown and changed so much; I can't wait for her to fall in love with her daddy and spend the next two weeks wrapping him tightly around her little finger. My head is swimming, and I know there are things I wanted to do, but didn't. But, right now I can't think of them. Right now, I plan on having a cocktail and enjoying CSI. Right now, I need to calm down because I am sure my resting heart rate is at least 349.

3Feb2010

After a few days, mostly full of what can most accurately be described as painful. So Monday, I got my first bikini wax. But, of course, I couldn't get jus a regular bikini wax. I had to go and get a brazillian bikini wax. So I talked about it with a lot of my girlfriends beforehand, just to sort of work up the nerve. Well, Monday came and the moment was upon me. I sat in the parking lot, a half hour early (oops) talking to Memeir on the phone. I told her what I was about to do and she said "Well, I don't want to ask how it was, but if you want to tell me..." LOL. I know she is morbidly curious like everyone else. Honestly, I was morbidly curious. I could have just took a little off of the sides like most normal people would do for their first wax. But, alas, I opted for going....all....the....way!!!!!!
I went in and waited for the woman who was to sadistically rip all the hair out of the most tender region of my body for the next hour, and was so nervous I was in a cold sweat (which was probably not good, considering what I was about to have done) and couldn't stop my one leg from dancing up and down despite it's stationary position under the other leg. Finally, she arrived and ushered me to the room. It was a really nice salon, with a full service spa; so I wasn't surprised by the dimish lighting and enya-esque music playing as we entered the room that was almost identical to their massage rooms (save for the extraordinarily messy crock pots of molten wax on the counter).
On top of the "massage" table (how ironic) was a hand towel and one of those portable clean-your-gyna wipes in a packet. She instructed me to get nakie and drape the (tiny) towel over my nether regions. After she left, I did as she said and not sure if I should cleanse before or after, I held onto the packet and awaited her return.
She never said anything about the cleansing packet that I had clenched in my hand, but she moved the towel aside and told me to bring my right leg up so my foot rested on the inside of my left knee. Like I had a lil captain in me. lol
I did, awkwardly and nervously. And to be totally frank, the part that made me the most nervous was that I am usually pretty...anyway, too much detail. But women probably know what I mean. I am sure she's not new at this. So she gets started and we are chatting about nothings. The first strip was in the crook of my leg and bikini area. It hurt, but not too bad. The next one was where it really counted, where, if she stopped; I'd be missing a patch. That one hurt. She said most people thought that the top area hurt more than the lower, more delicate area. I was shocked, thinking it was the other way around. Well, it did hurt; for about 20 seconds it was agony. The most painful part was the anticipation. She'd paint on the wax, not so bad. Warm, and sometimes it pulled the hairs a bit. But then she'd take the fabric and press it onto the wax, ever so gently....oh the anticipation killed me. Then it was Rrrrrrrrrrrrripppppppp!!!!
Off came my hair, probably some skin....it was awful. Then it was slightly numb and slightly throbbing all at once. When she got out this stick covered in black wax, I got nervous.
She said it was a special wax that had to dry. wtf??? She pulled on, you know, and applied it to the outside of them. It dried, with the fabric on it, and then she flicked it. I thought I would die. She said you had to flick it to get it loose enough to pull off. Then she yanked. I freaked! It was horrible. It felt like she was ripping my gyna lips right off. I flinched so badly I was almost sitting up. I endured two more of these before telling her to forget the last one and that I could do a bit of self-maintenance.
And so it went on, her ripping out my hair; me attempting not to cry every thirty seconds. We made more awkward small talk, mostly because when my mind was somewhere else I wouldn't anticipate the pulling off part as much, which made it hurt a little less.
Nonetheless, it was agony. Then came the weird part. Then came...the back part. Without going into too much detail, picture that scene in Sex and the City where Carrie gets a wax from that crazy german lady and she takes it all. Carrie, in the scene, is laying there with her leg straight up in the air, holding onto it. That was me. And honestly, that part hurt the least. It was the weirdest and most socially awkward; but not so painful. This was a welcome change considering the black wax that I was sure had taken my vagina with it.
Afterwards, she left so I could dress and as I attempted to sit up; my butt stuck to the paper on the table. Great, leftovers. I cleaned what I could clean off with the wipe, and carefully got dressed. I was numb, but it was already very tender, almost like a sunburn, which made getting dressed difficult.
As I left, I wondered if this was a good idea. She said it would be tender and irritated that day and maybe the next; but that it would be alright after that.
The next day I woke up to a fire on my vagina. The whole area hurt, and I could barely bend a leg. Even if the comforter grazed the area, I was wincing in pain. I, walking much like a cowboy just getting off of his horse after riding for three days straight, approached the bathroom mirror with caution - dreading what I might find.
Turns out, my dread was not unfounded. My whole area looked like ground beef, spread out thinly. It was bright red, with little red bumps, and some obviously inflamed hair follicles turning white. It was awful and so so so painful. I wanted to cry. This was not what I had imagined Adam coming home to. I managed to get through a shower, flinching and, on occasion, taking up a fetal position whenever the water hit the area.
All day, I was reminded of my vanity whenever I squatted down to get something, or leaned against a table (which happen to be just the right height). The actual gyna area, where the dreaded black wax had been, was fine. Weird. But, still you couldn't pay me enough to have let her use that the whole time.
I figured that it was just the next day, and that things would calm down by Wednesday. Not so. Because of the excess wax that I'd had to remove myself in the back area, I ended up with hemorrhoids. This was totally my waxing nightmare. Perhaps, I'm just destined to be au natural.
So I called the salon and explained everything, and the manager was extremely apologetic and insisted that she'd have the more experienced esthetician call me later in the day. Well, she called and they offered me an aveda cream to help with the skin. They also credited my account so that I could use the money I spent on the wax on my next visit for hair or whatever. That made me feel better, that I didn't actually spend money to look like regurgitated spaghetti.
Either way, it's something I would never do again. No matter how much Adam may like it. The way things are, I think he may prefer pre-wax wife to PTSDpubicarea wife.