So when Harrison starts screaming at bedtime & I’ve told him firmly to get back in bed three separate times, he stares up at me with tears falling & says, “Up!!”  oh, my heart.

I find myself all sternly inner-dialoguing how I’m setting us up for failure when he’s three as I make my way to the rocking chair.  But then I remember how I’m knee-deep in my uterus & how soon, Harry will be going to sleepovers where he will be embarrassed to ever admit he was rocked to sleep & I can’t help myself.  I sit & I rock & tell him stories about the man on the moon until he’s calm.  His heartbeat slows & his breathing steadies & I know he’s asleep because that’s the kind of thing that mother’s just know.

He’s drooling on my shoulder.  It’s time to put the kiddo to bed, but in his earlier rage, all blankets & pillows ended in a pile on the floor.  Which means that I have to get up from the chair & put the bedding back together with 30 lbs of live ammunition on my shoulder.  Doug to the nursery, I think into the universe.  I wait a few minutes.  Hey, buddy.  To the nursery for pillow recon.

I contemplate the length of my legs, wondering if I can grab the pillow corner with my toes & toss it into the bed.  If I can do that, then I’ll have a legit excuse to run away with the circus.  I feel the drool seeping through my jammies.  The kid stirs & I freeze & send imaginary red flares into the sky. & I’m all WHY IS HE NOT READING MY ESP?!  DOUG TO THE NURSERY!  DOUG TO THE NURSERY!

What good is being married almost six years if he can’t read my mind?

This is us, over two years after we first met. Our first picture together on my 21st birthday in 2004.

He makes my life a love story.

So.

In October, Doug was laid off when the company he worked for closed with no warning.  There was lots of swearing on our parts for about 48 hours, then we buckled down hard.  I dropped out of my project management class to get a refund on the tuition. Doug filed for unemployment.  I picked up the gig at Babble & any sponsored post offered (remember that week in December where there were three in a row?) to help alleviate the dip into our emergency fund.  We put the house on the market, knowing that we’d be in deep water if Doug went jobless for more than a year.  & in this economy, that fear was entirely possible.

Doug & I have always been conservative with our finances, which means that in any environment of uncertainty, we treat it like a crisis.

In the middle of November, we discovered that Doug & Harry were no longer covered by insurance, nor was COBRA an option.  This was after we attended Harrison’s two-year check-up, complete with three vaccines.  Plus six private speech therapy sessions.   On top of missing half our income, now we had a heavy month of uninsured medical expenses.

note: money is hard in marriage, even when there is plenty.  it gets harder when times are tight.

At the same time, we have been oddly happier than we’ve been in a long time.  Living so intentionally has created a sense of empowerment & togetherness.  Simplicity really is a lovely thing when $8.00 Netflix is all you can afford.  Hell, we’ve even been having more sex because…what else are we going to do on a Saturday evening with no money?   In early December, Doug praised my Type A personality because Harrison’s Christmas gifts were purchased before the lay-off, which meant Santa would visit.  We took great joy in splurging for a $3.00 Almond Joy coffee creamer that Doug wanted to buy but felt was unecessary.  The smile on his face made me all warm & fuzzy.  He made me coffee the next morning with the creamer.

I wish I could do justice to how perfect that little $3.00 creamer was for making us smile & realizing that something small to share was even better than a dozen roses or a new set of golf clubs or even a vacation.

Things began looking up again as my new insurance kicked in & the boys were covered again.  We had good feedback on our house.  Doug had several good interviews and began helping his old coworker start-up a company under a new investor (it launched this past week!  he is gainfully employed again!).    I made a bonus & we were able to afford a few Christmas splurges. I still adore my new job.  Then Doug’s dad got sick & everything has turned into a bigger ball of stress since then.

The other night, driving in the dark for an hour with Harrison screaming for his Auntie, I thought I might be reaching a breaking point.  I felt like I was constantly working, never shutting off, with the weight of everything on my shoulders.  I felt that old nemesis trying to creep in, those choking thoughts that pull me under.  You deserve this stress, your baby doesn’t love you, you’re a distracted wife, you have a bitter heart, you’ll never get it right…I think the worst part is that even when I feel good & stable, there is this prodigal twisty part of my soul just lurking.

Waiting for me to slip.  Waiting for me to give just an inch.

But I’m not giving an inch.  I’m fucking making it after all, okay?

.

p.s. we are so lucky, so thankful that doug was able to get a paycheck again after only two months of unemployment.  we are bursting with gratitude towards my new job & the timeliness of babble’s job offer, which gave us security the past few months.  my heart goes out to anyone that feels that stress longer than us & i know there are plenty of you out there. i wish there was more i could do other than simply say that i understand.

p.p.s. it feels so good to get this off my shoulders.  like my body just took a huge cleansing breath.

photo

I knew we would be perfect candidates for Canon’s “Your Second Shot” project. (you know that cute ad with the couple going back to Barcelona? that camera! that project!) Last year, our camera settings were off in the fading day of Halloween, creating a horrid gold cast that ruined all pictures where Doug & I are posed with Harrison. I eventually converted them to a basic black & white, but you miss the amazing color that popped from the mums last year, or the pink tail of Harry’s mouse costume, or how I painted my nose with hot pink lipstick.

The entire moment wasn’t lost, but the full story isn’t told. I hate it when that happens.

Canon graciously sent me the new Canon PowerShot ELPH 300 HS & I knew the perfect moment to capture – Halloween 2011 in full color. We carved pumpkins & watered mums & spread fake spiderwebbing & purchased a Captain America costume, all to create a memory that would last forever on film.

But.

Life got in the way. Family crisis & pouring rain left me alone with Harrison on the coldest, most dreary Halloween I can remember since my own childhood. The day grew darker & darker as rain pounded from the skies & we waited for Doug to get home. After Harrison crawled into bed, his third Halloween spent without a costume & trick-or-treating, I sat down on the floor in frustration. The project, lost. The evening, forgotten. Just like last year.

Doug came home & we turned off the front porch light. Some nights call for champagne & lingerie & music, but we put on comfy tshirts & crawled in bed with mugs of coffee & cider. The leftover Halloween candy was eaten as we laughed over episodes of One Tree Hill on the iPad (my Netflix choice, much to his dismay). The room was lit by one small 40-watt bulb, but I pulled out the Canon PowerShot & snapped this self-portrait, full of love.

It’s not the Halloween picture I planned or hoped for. You cannot always capture the moments, but when you capture it for a lifetime? These tiny moments? They are so much sweeter.

So thank you, BlogHer & Canon, for helping me create a Halloween memory that wasn’t orchestrated, but is so adored.

This picture made possible by Canon’s incredible new PowerShot ELPH 300 HS. With its 24mm ultra-wide lens & HS System, it is perfect for capturing low-light images without ruining the color or clarity of the shot. We own the Canon PowerShot SX100 IS & love it, so I was thrilled to test out this newer version. Verdict? It is amazing. I cannot wait to show you even more pictures that are better planned. It is also so slim & light-weight that it’s perfect for a diaper bag or clutch, to carry around as the go-to daily camera.

Canon & BlogHer supplied me with the new camera, as well as compensation for my time. They’re awesome, but the opinions & photography are mine.

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In these moments when fingers tangled in a college dorm feel so far & I wonder how my heart knows the stress of my head crunching numbers & my hands folding laundry.

This coming together, meeting with tentative words & butting heads, but please Lord, keep us focused on the rings we wear & the devotion we feel as it lays bare open on the table.  The vulnerability that is essential to our marriage, to understanding the other.  Two different hearts that find comfort & love & heartache & laughter in each other.

Doug:  “Excuse me?”

me:  “Your favorite thing about being a boy.  What is it?”

Doug, with a pause of thought:  “I have a penis & you have a vagina.”

me:  “Oh.”

Doug:  “What’s your favorite part about being a girl?”

me, with no hesitation:  “GLITTER!”

Energized from the cup of coffee, she will put away the toddler toys.

With a small glimmer of satisfaction, she will continue clearing the floor, this time with vacuum & mop.

The sparkling floors will make her notice the dusty furniture, which she will polish before scrubbing the kitchen.

After cleaning the kitchen, she will toss the dish towels in the wash with regular towels, which will remind her to put away the stack of tshirts on the dresser.

The house smelling fresh & clean, she will flip on the wax candle to fill the air with Pear Cider scent, which will remind her of delicious bread filling the oven, so she pulls out the pumpkin & chocolate chips & bakes a loaf of bread.

The loaf of bread reminds her of the beef in the fridge, so she brews up a pot of chili to simmer in the crockpot all day.

With the bread rising & dinner prepared & the floors glimmering, she realizes that she wants to be just as pretty, so she showers & primps & slides on a clean pair of jeans.

Accomplished & feeling more like herself, she sits down with a book & luxeriates in quiet “me time.”

Refreshed from the “me time,” she happily greets the boys at the door & whips up her favorite lunch from childhood, macaroni & hotdogs, which the boys love.

Full bellies mean long naps, so she takes a breather from the morning’s activities while her husband watches golf & football.

A relaxing, accomplished afternoon means happy spirits & teasing & flirting & oh yes, maritals in the evening.

Happy from the night’s activities, her husband whips up cinnamon rolls before she wakes up the next morning, her favorite Sunday morning treat.

….all because he gave her three hours.

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p.s.  this only works if the mom in question is intensely OCD & mildly insane about things being orderly & pretty, who gets her kicks off Mrs. Meyers cleaning spray & baking….like me.
p.p.s. God have mercy on your soul if you try this with a non-neurotic woman & expect her to clean happily while you are gone. GOD HAVE MERCY.
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I know that kind of freaks you out because it means THIRTY is only ONE YEAR AWAY & you’re checking your hairline but I promise you, it’s all still there.

Sometimes, when I am laying there at night with you breathing heavily by my side, I marvel at the life we’ve built together.  I laugh at how I am much better at picking a spouse than you, but you pull me in close with those blue eyes that never give me rest & it reminds me that life is so good because it’s you & me. 

& I pray for all the years of your life to come, including the ones where children grow & hairlines fade but always, it will be you & me.

I love you, happy birthday, let’s go romp in the sack.

I still remember the cheers of our friends & family as we walked through the double doors, greeted by twinkling lights & a towering cake.  Oddly enough, we did not care for the reception – the wholeness of the marriage ceremony still rang through our hearts as we greeted guests, sliced cake, & twirled to James Taylor for the next two hours.  Later that night, we sat on our hotel bed, me in a flowing pink Christian Dior nightgown…& we finally ate food.  Laughing over a bottle of champagne, we snacked on brie & stuffed mushrooms & cake until midnight.  So thrilled to finally be starting our life together.

I cannot wait for the next five years, until Heaven & then forever.

On Saturday, we packed up our swimsuits & headed to the lake with friends, something we used to do as a couple with our couple friends, but this time we had a small fry & a pack of Goldfish in tow.  (by the way?  the adults ate more Goldfish than the toddler. go figure.  Do they put crack in those little swimmies?) Proof that I didn’t birth my ability to be cool along with my placenta.

Also?  WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE, JEN LANCASTER?!   More coming on how the book “Such a Pretty Fat” is changing my life.  Yes, I’m serious.  Jen Lancaster in all her sarcasm is changing my life, but I think that’s because she & I were separated at birth to keep the universe from imploding at our combined asshatery awesomeness.

A word of warning:  although the one-touch purchase button feels like play money, Amazon Kindle uses real money, so don’t flip the hell out when you see a balance on your emergency-only credit card & call Capital One demanding fraud revenge.   Somehow the Hunger Games series constituted an “emergency,” & while I haven’t delved into them yet, the customer service gal insisted that it was real money well-spent.

(But that’s kind of her job, right?  Like even if I bought a bear skin rug & a bottle of unicorn tears, she’s kind of locked into telling me it was a wise investment & to not worry about paying my bill, right?)

There was also a moment this weekend where I threw in the towel on my Spot Bot removing old paint stains from the carpet, so I got down at eye-level with sewing scissors & cut the paint out of the carpet.  I told Nate that he wasn’t allowed to see what I was doing until the final product because he’s usually Mr. Follow-the-Rule-Book & I figured “cutting carpet” wasn’t part of normal housekeeping.   But then he surprised me by a) not even noticing & b) not caring when I pointed it out.

You know, Nate.  We’ll never know make-up sex if you don’t start getting irrationally pissed off about things that don’t matter.