Monthly Archives: October 2010

trick or treat!


I wish I could say that these photos will be even remotely funny to anyone but me, but I’m sharing anyway. (I have to do this in the bathroom with the because there are too many hiding places in the rest of the house, thus the toilet in the background.) They don’t scratch me or howl at all so I don’t feel TOO guilty. Lily even started playing with hers after a few minutes.

Nola is in costume as an Evil Football Fanatic (the red eyes make her evil)

Anubis is in costume a vampire (you can kinda see his fur widow’s peak) and also appears as Jeeves (check out his whiskers! Aren’t they impressive?)

Lily is in costume as an evil butterfly… of DOOM!

And then there are the outtakes and cute moments.



progressive fight club


It’s no secret that I hate arguing. In fact, I just wrote an entire damn post on my hatred of arguing. However, I’m with someone who likes to fight and does it frequently so I can’t just avoid it all the time.

He’s a mental ninja. There’s no way to win an argument with him even if I’m the one who started it and I’m the one with the problem. It’s frustrating, but I think I’m learning how to properly argue without losing my cool too much. Actually, I think we’re both learning how to fight properly with each other because he’s changed some of his arguing style. Now at least tells me he needs to hang up before he says something hurtful because he’s learned that those kind of “say it just to hurt you” comment lodge in my brain for weeks and fester. See? Progress!

I kind of understand why arguing is beneficial. I am learning to appreciate the end result of growth and movement at least and I’m learning to REALLY love make up sex. These are things I’ve lacked in previous relationships. The only thing that I’ve not managed to fully harness is how I feel after the argument. Dean can move on like nothing happened. I can’t. I hold onto some of the hurt and anger a bit too long and I’ve noticed I turn it back on him later in a resentful way. This was part of my shocking realization on the drive home from Boston a few weeks ago. I’ve had to work ten times harder at letting that go than anything else I work on in this relationship.

Initially I worried that all these arguments (and for the record, it’s only been a few, but I’m so used to NONE that this is a lot for me) were going to be our downfall. But then I took a long hard look at my relationship past and realized that all the relationships I’ve had have ended in violence, extreme anger, and/or the exact opposite of how they started. They ALL started out really good and without ANY problems. For the first year, I didn’t have a single argument with my first boyfriend. He turned out to be a physically abusive jerk. For the first 4 months with Chet, we didn’t argue at ALL. The first time we did, he vanished for a few weeks and we temporarily broke up. From that point on, every time we argued, he vanished into lock down mode and we’d break up for a while. It turned out he was an emotionally abusive fuckwit. A calm open sea with smooth sailing ends in a hurricane, typhoon, or tsunami.

Maybe these sunny days mixed with rough choppy seas and storms here and there will end in smooth sailing and utter bliss. I’d like to think that all this fighting in the beginning and all the progress being made, we’ll end up with the happiest marriage on the planet since my grandparents got married and that’s why I’ve decided to not let it affect us so much. I can’t avoid fighting with him, but I can change my stance and not let them erupt into what they turn into. I can stay strong, make my point, and let him get his frustration and anger out without letting it hurt me. It’s not personal, it’s just his method. Neither of us is perfect, but the love between us is strong enough to help us both grow together and find the balance.

And the love is very strong. I’ve never felt such a warmth in my heart with anyone else. I’ve never felt such longing to be close to someone physically as I have with him. I’ve never felt so affectionate with anyone else. He holds my hand in public, he touches my thigh when I’m driving, he opens doors and does all the little chivalrous things. He definitely requires more touch and open affection than I do so it’s taken a bit of adjusting to give him exactly what he needs, but he’s patient with me and as time goes on and my fears subside, he gets more and more of me. And because he does all of that and still manages to make me smile at the drop of a hat… well I can handle an argument here are there.

Besides, the make up sex is worth it.

little egg


If I blogged more often, I wouldn’t constantly feel like I’m catching up. The last few weeks in a nutshell: road trip to Boston area with Dean for a wedding, 3 weeks of arguing with Dean and near ending of relationship, removed my head from my ass after shocking realization about myself, honeymoon status restored with the male, hanging out with several couples that are either his friends or mine, and a diagnosis on the reproductive system. Let’s focus on that last one.

After a year and a half of back and forth, two doctors, and various tests, it turns out that I do have PCOS.

At this point I don’t think I can even be upset by it. I do, I don’t, I do, I don’t. All I’ve concluded over the last year and a half is that PCOS is a diagnosis tossed out pretty regularly. It’s the ADD of fertility. I’ve also discovered there is no sure fire test that says point blank “hey you’ve got fucked up ovaries!” Whatever. Maybe because I already went through the initial shock of it last summer, I didn’t flip out this time. Maybe I’m in denial thinking they’ll tell me they’re wrong. I have other symptoms and quite frankly it explains a lot of other things. I guess just having an answer at this point is what’s keeping me from losing my mind so I’ve taken a leap of faith and I’ve decided to just accept it and deal with it.

I say all that now, but that paragraph above took an entire week to accept and write.

I am going to great lengths to stay as positive about this as possible. I can’t change it, there isn’t a cure, and I’m stuck with it. It’s treatable though and I have a good doctor willing to work with me as I am. She thinks it’s great that I’ve decided to be proactive about this and start now rather than wait any further and she’s optimistic.

I don’t have to make huge changes in my life for her to treat me right now either. I have to stay on my current progesterone dosage and now add metformin to the mix. Plus side of that is it has been known to aid in weight loss for some women. Downside is apparently a very urgent need to spend quality time with the porcelain gods and as I’ve learned over the week it also comes with random bouts of very violent stomach cramps and gas pressure. I’ll take the pain over the squirts though. I’ve been told this is totally normal and will be over in a few weeks once my body fully adjusts to it. Oh yay.

Dean has been phenomenal. Encouraging and supportive. This is the way it should be though. If you decide to have a baby with someone and you actively pursue it, you need to be supportive of each other and be willing to sit through the rough moments. He is there for everything, listens to my rants, worries when I double over with stomach pain, makes me feel better, and has made some big commitments that I consider a fair compromise for now. He still hasn’t weighed in either way on his decision about moving in, but the current situation is livable and I accept it. For now.

Meanwhile, I’ve stopped worrying about who knows and who he tells. He’s excited about it and wants to be a father so why should I hinder that? The thing I made him promise was that once I actually get pregnant, he’s not supposed to tell ANYONE until I get to a certain point. He agreed and I’m good with that. The irony? I don’t want anyone in my family knowing anything. No one outside my mom and stepdad. Friends know but I’m closer to my friends than I am to my family. I don’t even talk to most of my family.

I never thought I’d be one of those women that has to chart her ovulation, take her temperature, and go on medications to try and have a baby, but at least I have those options. I also have a good man to go through it all with me and that’s really all you can ask for.

Now I just need an egg to drop into my uterus!

onward and upward


The reason things had been tense between Dean and I lately is because we made a huge life decision. That life decision?

We decided to go for it and have a baby.

Yup. The decision was made after some pretty careful consideration. I tossed out every bad scenario I could think of and Dean, being the dreamer, was happy go lucky about it. Me, being the over thinking logical thinker, was working out every possible scenario I could and preparing for everything I possibly could. That’s why he and I work together though. We balance each other out.

We didn’t make the effort to TRY try, but we pulled the goalie from the net. There was never any protection with us, but now suddenly there was a proactive effort to make sure things stayed in place so to speak. Timing wasn’t working out though so it was giving me more time to really decide and make decisions.

Everything that goes into having a baby was already weighing heavily on my mind. Certain things I was absolutely sure of. Some things I had no clue on. Some things I figured we’d decide as we went. Suffice to say, everything was trapped in my cranium and I was already on thought overload.

Then something he said in a fight sent me over the edge and rocked my foundation to the core. POOF! Decisions have to be made NOW! Why? because I can’t calm down without a decision! I have to KNOW and I have to know NOW damn it! As if that were not enough, shit just isn’t happening now!!!!! The very real reality of it all though was how the fuck are we going to get pregnant if A.) he’s not here when I’m ovulating B.) we don’t live together and C.) we don’t truly know what we’re doing???

Suddenly I went from “lets get pregnant and move in together” to “woah there fucker, put a ring on it before you put your dick in me again.” Crass, but that is truly what happened in my brain in the course of an hour.

I’ve since calmed down such intense thinking and compromise was issued on my end. After all, this is a partnership. This is not a dictatorship. The control freak in me had to ease up and the childish fighter in him had to back off a bit. Eventually I relented and settled on us moving in together. If we did, I’d go to the doctor and find out what my options were, how to actively TRY for a baby at home without drugs, and find out what preliminary tests we could take before going down any serious fertility roads.

Well guess what happened next? I missed my period entirely. More than that, my hormones went absolutely apeshit. Some where between getting sick as a dog, coming back from vacation, being on meds, and having 3 women start working with me in the course of 45 days, my normal uterine activity went on holiday. I’m almost positive the 3 women’s cycles have altered mine because I’ve never been the alpha female when it comes to periods, but since I want a baby and since I’m fast approaching 30, this is minor cause for alarm. Doctor’s appointment moved up. Time to find out whats up with the womb!

But things were still not resolved with Dean. In fact, we had another minor tiff over it and I was told I was pushing too hard. Who me? The person who can’t let up? The person who has to know everything right this minute?? SHOCKING! So after a long talk with a male friend of mine, I backed the fuck off. I said nothing. I decided to give him a few weeks to think it out and figure out how he felt. I can’t push this and he needs to have some control in this too. With much effort, I backed the fuck off… and it paid off.

I am happy to report that we’ve finally talked things out to a much deeper level and addressed our mutual fears about moving in together. We’ve discussed our jobs, the traffic it would require to make this happen, the little details about my living conditions/lease terms, the pet situation, where clothes go, and finances. We got into a very detailed conversation and it was no longer a monologue of me pleading. It was a dialog of interaction and it was good.

It’s possible that he finally realized all the things I’ve been doing over the last 2 months are in an effort to move US forward, not just clean my place up. I’ve been planning out how to make room for Dean AND a baby. I’ve also set my heart on all of this being temporary. I don’t want us all crammed into this place for more than a year! I want us to save money, find a place we’d both be happy in together, and start our life with as little debt as possible. I want us to make that one year of sacrifice and maybe be moderately unhappy for a while to have a stronger foundation for our future.

I know you can’t plan life out. There will always be hiccups and there will always be bumps. But you CAN think things through and get a grip on reality before you plunge into massive decisions. The best thing you can do is try and have options in your head just in case the worst happens.

The final decision hasn’t been made, but I can honestly say that I’m feeling positive. I’m mildly happy about the idea of living with a man again. I am happy about having a future with someone I truly love. And I’m extremely happy (and grateful) that I have someone in my life that not only talks it out with me, but also makes decisions with me for our future. I’ve hit the jackpot with this man.

EDIT: thanks to Deb for pointing out yet another thing I’ve left out in a post…
Marriage is a definite with us. The problem is we don’t agree on the wedding portion of it. He wants one and I don’t. I will get into this later, but we’re not necessarily going in “the right order” and that’s absolutely fine with me. I never honestly thought I would.