Who Knew?
Me: Wow. Charmed sure is a crap show.
Eric: Yeah.
Me: Still better than Angel, though.
Eric: *steely stare*
Apparently, them’s fightin’ words.
Filed under marriage | Comment (1)Light Speed
While talking to Eric this morning, it hit me that we have 6 1/2 weeks until Ben’s predicted arrival. Wait, I don’t think you heard the panic radiating from my fingers…SIX AND A HALF WEEKS! That’s better. We have nothing ready. NOTHING! *insert panicstruck finger freakout here*
I can’t believe how quickly this whole thing has gone by. Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly excited to see the little guy. I can’t wait to see who he most resembles, what color his eyes will be, how often he cries, and how well he’ll fit in the car seat so I can leave him to do that crying at my parents’. I am excited, but I’m also scared to death. 6 1/2 weeks is not long enough to get everything ready for him. 6 1/2 weeks is not long enough to become accustomed to the idea of being a mother. And 6 1/2 weeks is definitely not long enough to get used to the idea of no longer feeling these little kicks and flails.
Last night, I pointed to my wiggling belly and giggled to Eric, “Looks like he’s trying to get out!”
“Poor Jess. You’re going to feel a void when he’s out, aren’t you?”
“I’m sure I will for a while.”
He rubbed my belly very sweetly and said, “I’m going to miss it, too. Especially being able to roll over in the mornings and hold you both at one time.”
I’m going to miss that, too.
Filed under 3rd Trimester, marriage, movement, pregnancy | Comments (7)Reason 498 Why I Love My Husband
I’m sitting on the couch, avoiding the piles of work I should be getting done today when he runs towards me and begins pummeling me with a salt shaker and an AA battery. He says, “A SALT AND BATTERY! A SALT AND BATTERY!” Then runs away.
I love the man.
Filed under etc, family, marriage | Comments (5)My Darling Husband is Old
March 11th was my darling husband’s 37th birthday. We didn’t do anything special, and he didn’t complain one moment about it. He didn’t even complain one moment about my pregnancy hormones.
I love you dearly, Eric. Happy birthday, old man.
Filed under family, marriage | Comment (0)Shotgun Wedding
We were talking about possibly getting married for two weeks. We told my parents and they thought it was sudden but not a bad idea. Mom had meetings on the day we wanted to do it but we were going to work around them.
However, after more discussion, we decided it would be better if just Eric and I went. His parents couldn’t be there because I was not about to have his mother anywhere near my family and he didn’t want her ruining our day. I didn’t want to rub it in his face that my family could be there and his couldn’t. My parents were okay with it as long as we had an actual wedding later.
On Tuesday the 20th, we got our marriage license. We managed to get down to the building to get the license at exactly 2:22pm. It took all of 20 minutes filled with strange questions about who our parents were and where they were born. It was surreal and strange. Then we went to my grandfather’s heart appointment, where he, grandma, mom, Eric and I all shoved ourselves into an exam room to discuss his possible bypass surgery. We drove the nurse crazy. Grandpa did decide to have the surgery, though. All in all, a good day.
On Wednesday the 21st, I called every judge on the list to no avail. Except one. We made an appointment for 1:30 the next day. PROMPTLY at 1:30. The lady made sure to repeat that 3 times.
On Thursday the 22nd, we got up early to get ready to get married. Why the 22nd? Because 2/22 is an awesome anniversary. 2/22/2007 is even cooler. So, we got up early, got out and bought my ring at a store who’s address was 2220. If I thought the license process was surreal, this was just nuts. I was so nervous. Honestly, more nervous than I’ve ever been for anything. Eric was completely calm, which made me even more nervous.
We made it to the courthouse with 30 minutes to spare. We parked with 10 minutes to spare. We went to get out of the car and Eric asks, “Have the rings?”
“Yes. Here’s yours. Here’s mine. In my purse,” smug, I was.
“The license?”
“Uhhhh…No, do you?”
“NO! SHIT!”
So we took off for home - the entire drive we spent calling ourselves raging fucktards. We got there about 1 minute before 1:30 and there was the license on the table. Staring at us. I called the judges office and explained our predicament. “We got all the way to the office and realized we didn’t have the license.”
“YOU DON’T HAVE A LICENSE?!?”
“No, no, no. We have the license we just forgot to bring it with us. Is there any way to reschedule?”
“Um…hold on.”
Picture here, Eric and I pacing back and forth, white as sheets, completely freaked out and feeling like idiots.
“Ma’am?”
“YES!” I think I may have screamed that…
“He can do it tomorrow at 1:30.”
“NO! I mean…we won’t be here. Can he do it tonight? After hours?? PLEASE?” You should have heard the desperation in my voice. It wasn’t pretty, but I’ll be damned if my anniversary was going to be on 2/23.
“Hold on…”
More pacing and praying.
“Okay, but be here promptly at 3. AT THREE. PROMPTLY at THREE.”
“THANK YOU!”
We spent the next 30 minutes or so trying to decompress. I laid down in the bed and forced myself to breathe. And right as I calmed down…we had to go again.
So, off we went. Parked with 15 mins to spare, got down to the office with 5 mins to spare. Some other couple was just leaving. Apparently, the judge had mistaken them for us. They weren’t us. I wasn’t leaving. I was prepared to chain myself to the door, if necessary. Luckily, the judge was perfectly okay with it. So in we went. A little paperwork, we handed him our rings, he had us stand by his bookcase - Eric to his left, me to his right. It HAD to be that way. He was a nice, humorless man who needed us to be exactly the way he asked us to be throughout the ceremony.
And it began. Everything was wonderful. Eric said during our vows was the first time I ever made and maintained eye contact with him since he’s known me. I don’t believe him but it was incredibly moving. It’s definitely one of the best memories I’ll ever have.
So now I’m a married woman. I don’t feel much different but I love being able to say Eric is my husband. My wonderful, sweet, strange, loving husband.
Filed under family, in laws, marriage | Comment (1)Dearest Mother of my Future Husband
Dearest mother of my future husband,
Please don’t ever call me your daughter again, it’s creepy. I am not your daughter and, at this rate, I never will be. The people I call family would never call me fat, unable to control myself, smelly, nor a gold-digger. We will be family by law, which makes me your son’s wife. Please, don’t let the word “daughter” be mentioned again, even if it’s followed by “in-law.”
Yes, my family does think (know) you’re horrible. They’ve heard everything you’ve said about and to me. It’s pretty clear to them that you can’t stand me. My mom is kind enough to say, “Poor her, bless her heart. She needs help.” Which translates to, “Crazy ass woman better be nicer to my daughter.” My dad just thinks you’re mean, insane and are deserving of a beating. I tend to agree.
The problem has never been with your husband, so the little comment, “see, he DOES want us to come to his wedding” is a load of crap. Of course we want his father to come to the wedding, we just don’t want YOU there. So, think of it as a blessing that we’re not having a wedding for you to come to. My fat, uncontrollable, smelly, gold-digging, and slightly ghetto family would be 2 inches away from your face, calling you on all the shit you’ve pulled. We may chase you around the block, shaking our big fat bellies at you and throwing fattening, white flour filled, homemade Mexican foods at your head. At the least you may end up with a black eye. As deserved as it may be, I don’t want to be cleaning blood up on my wedding day.
Hey, guess what, I’m pregnant. Know what else? You’d better not come within 10 miles of my baby until you get some serious therapy. Asking how many times you have to go before anyone considers you “healed” is proof you have no interest in getting better, and that you think it’s everyone’s fault but your own. IT’S NOT! It’s YOUR fault. Go deal with it or you will never see your grandchild. We’re already planning on sneaking your husband around so he can spend time with the baby because he’s wonderful. Shouldn’t that be a sign to you that SOMETHING is wrong with you?
Stop saying you’re powerless! You control EVERYTHING. Your husband can’t eat without you okaying it first. Your husband can barely walk through his own house. If you don’t get your way, you cry in a corner. You have taken over the entire house with your stuff. You have even invaded the one thing your husband had that was his own, his music, and completely ruined it. You are a powerhouse, and you know it, because you wouldn’t live with it any other way.
Apologizing is supposed to be a sign that you’re sorry. You do not apologize by giving reasons why you were right to say everything you said. That’s adding insult to injury. By the way, “I was having a bad day,” is not an excuse to scream whatever you want about someone. Also, screaming at the top of your lungs to “release stress” only causes everyone else in the household to absorb that stress. It’s not fair.
Speaking of the house, it has absorbed so many years of unhappy crap, that the entire house feels like you’re walking into a bowl of jello. The air is so thick, you can barely breathe. Everyone feels it but you. I couldn’t let my child into that environment. I think it may develop cancer on the spot.
I get that you’re crazy. I get that there’s probably a reason you’re crazy. I DO NOT think that makes you completely devoid of responsibility for your actions. I DO NOT think I, or anyone, should have to just “accept” your horrible remarks, actions and SCREAMING FOR NO REASON, just because you’re insane and refuse to get help. Your family may have done it for years, I won’t.
Lastly, dearest mother of my future husband, I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. Stop pretending like I’m the perpetrator, because you don’t like me, either. This relationship is not what I expected my in law relationship to be, and I’m sure it’s not what you’ve wanted yours to be, but it is. You’ve made it pretty clear that no matter who your son married or was dating, you’d hate them. Learn to accept that and stop pretending like you’re mother in law of the year and your son’s future wife is just crazy. You have a real daughter that will, one day, help you gain another son. That will probably be much less traumatic for you. Hold out hope for that and back the hell up off of me.
Very sincerely not your daughter,
Your son’s future wife
One Mom at a Time
Eric’s mother hates me. She hates everyone, so it’s not a big insult, it’s just not something I’m used to. I generally get along with moms pretty well, and have never been disliked by any friends or boyfriends families. Eric’s mother, however, is a whole other story. In the past two years, and 5 times I have seen her, these are a few of my favorite gems of joy that have come out of her mouth about me.
- “You may want to air yourself out on the way to the concert. Some singers have allergies to such strong perfumes.”
- (To Eric’s dad, screaming in the most hateful tone I’ve ever heard) “And that girlfriend of his…SHE’S FAT! And he’s just making her fatter by feeding her all that junk!”
- (In response to my hearing her) “You don’t understand, I was having a bad day. Besides, I’m worried about your health. I had a bad day, better out than in!”
- “I guess I’m not going to see Jessica again until I get therapy and am perfect.”
- (To Eric, regarding our house - I’m paraphrasing here, because I’m not entirely sure exactly what was said) “I spoke to a lawyer friend about what your options would be if you and Jessica split up. He can talk to you about them when he drops by tomorrow.”
She’s also convinced Eric has suddenly taken up smoking weed . WEED! The man who gets angry about people smoking outside of a door because he’s afraid it might give him lung cancer. She suddenly thinks this when he’s dating me. Coincidence?
Needless to say, at this point, I’m seriously considering not allowing her to come within 100 feet of this child. She’s already not allowed to come near my family because I’m afraid I’d deck her if she said anything even remotely snide to my loved ones.
It’s a little sad, but because of her, I’ve decided not to have a wedding when Eric and I get married. I don’t want to deal with her response when she is not (and she really would not be, under any circumstances) invited, and I don’t want to give her any more leverage to keep Eric’s dad away from him. My parents got married at a courthouse, I guess I can, too.
A whole other issue is dealing with his father, who is a wonderful man. He’s so sweet and kind. He’s got a good heart. His mom, however, rules the roost and I’m not sure how I can have my child enjoy a lot of time with his grandfather (which would be nothing but really good), and stay miles away from Eric’s mother at the same time. Despite how she feels about me, she’s far from a child friendly person. Her reactions and responses to things are so scary, I can’t imagine subjecting a baby to these things. Then, as the baby grows, I can’t imagine what she’ll say to it if it’s overweight, or if she’s unhappy with me that day. Not to mention the energy surrounding her. You can feel it from a mile away, even if you’re not a new age hippy freak like me.
I feel like I’d be a shitty mom to let my child be around that, and that sucks.
Filed under house, in laws, marriage | Comment (0)
