Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Happy birthday to me!

Happy birthday to me! 26.... wow, that feels strange. I am officially no longer in my early-twenties and I have one foot in the door to being in my late twenties. Some part of that makes me sad, but I have to say, life is pretty good so I can't complain.

Its strange how quickly life passes by, and how much things can change in the course of only a few years. five years ago today I turned 21. 21. At that point in my life it was the biggest, most exciting thing to happen. I counted down the days for months before. It was THE birthday. The one that required massive amounts of celebration. The one that called for a birthday breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was a birthday that my sorority sisters made me shirt that said "kiss me, it's my birthday!" and total stranger bought me drinks and my parents and sister made a special trip to phoenix to take me to dinner and shopping. Bottom line; it was the birthday to end all birthdays.

Birthdays are a funny thing. You spend your childhood anxiously awaiting them. Yearning to be year older, knowing that there will be presents and a party and it will all be for you. There is something completely magical about birthdays when your a kid. It is a day that is all about you, and all seems right in the world. Our adolescence/young adulthood is marked by three monumental birthdays: 16, 18, and 21. 16 is huge, our first foray into independence. It is a time when most kids get there drivers lisences. These days teens have a lot more rules that go along with getting a lisence at 16, such as no passengers, no driving at night, etc. Not so when I was 16. When we were handed that laminated passport to freedom all the rules changed. No more relying on mom and dad for rides, and therefore, no more having to tell them where we were all the time. You could get away with things you never could before. If you wanted to go somewhere or needed somthing you could just hop in your car and drive. My first car was a beat up 1980 honda hatchback, but I loved it because it took me where I wanted to go, which at that point was anywhere my friends were and my parent weren't.

18 was the next big one becuase it meant you were legally an adult. In all honestly, this didn't really mean much except you could buy porn and cigarettes, vote, and when you threatened your parents with moving out, you could actually follow through if you wanted to. For me, 18 meant off to college and total freedom, but it also meant paying for my own cell phone bill, car insurance and any other bills that weren't directly school related. Turns out, being an adult wasn't really all it was cracked up to be. But still, it was a big birthday.

21 really needs no explenation. Please see above to read how I spent mine five short (long?) years ago. 21 is 21. I don't know very many people that don't mark this birthday as one of the big ones.

And now I'm at that in between point. I'm not young enough to countdown the days to my birthday, or throw myself a party or even get too excited in general. But I'm also not old enough to dread my birthday, to tell people I don't want to acknowledge it. I guess I'm to the point where I just don't care too much. It's a nice day to spend with family and friends, and now, after having given birth to my son, thank my mother a little more profusely for bringin me into this world. But that's it, just another day. This year, just another Tuesday.

So, for my 26th birthday I will be going to happy hour with a few close friends and will still be home by eight. My husband will take me to dinner this weekend (sushi, yum!)and then we will cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. There will probably be some wine or beer involved, but it most certainly won't be a party. And I am so ok with that. I don't think I could go out all night even if I wanted to. That part of my life is over, and while I look back on it with fond (and sometimes blurry) memories I am happy to leave it behind.

So, happy birthday to me! Here is to 26! here is to being a fabulous woman in my mid-to-late twenties! And here is to hopefully another wondeful year!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

My confession

If there are any feminist out there reading this, please get your matches and undergarments prepared, you are probably going to want to throw your burning bras at me. Here is my confession: my ultimate goal is to be a housewife/stay-at-home-mom. I realize that this is not very modern of me, but it is 100% true. After L was born I got four months of maternity leave and I loved ever single second of it. I did not want to return to work. I have talked to other moms, and even friends who don't have children yet, that are not keen on the idea of staying home. They don't want to put careers on hold, they think they would get bored, they would miss adult conversation/companionship. I am not one of these people.

My parents would cringe (or cause me bodily harm) if they heard me say this, since they paid for four year of college for me, but I really don't have any career goals. I work in an office setting, and I'm good at my job, but I don't really care about it. I don't take work home, I don't think about work when I'm not there. I quite literally am working to live and most definitely not living to work.

When I was in college I had aspirations of moving to New York or San Diego or LA as soon as I graduated and basically becoming the next "sex-and-the-city" poster girl. (AKA Carrie Bradshaw) But this fantasy consisted of fabulous shoes, an amazing wardrobe, cocktails and parties with friends every night and a continuous string of handsome men to date. I assumed that somewhere in there I would fit in work, mostly so I could pay for this fantasy life, but in true fantasy form my job was going to be something along the lines of people paying me ridiculous amounts of money to attend parties, go to long "work" lunches and wine and dine with important people.

But, whether this life would have ever become a reality or not (probably not), I chose a different path. S and I moved to Phoenix after college, got married and soon afterwards had L. We have a mortgage payment and bills, diapers to buy, and our idea of a crazy night is buying a 12 pack. I still have fabulous shoes and great clothes, but mostly I lounge around in sweats or yoga pants, my "going-out" clothes have been regaled to the back of the closet for the rare occasions I go out with the girls. But I have 2 incredibly handsome men in my life (my husband and son) and I would not change anything about my life. (except maybe get rid of the mortgage payment and bills!)

Occasionally I still see an episode of Sex and the City and get a longing, or watch an episode of Grey's anatomy or Drop Dead Dive and think; "I should be a nurse! I should be a lawyer!". But I really don't want that. I want to spend days at home with my son, I want to go to pilates class in the morning and have lunch/playdates with other moms. I want my house to be spotless because I am home all day to keep it clean. I want to greet my husband every night with a glass of wine and a home cooked meal (I will have to learn to cook first, but that is besides the point).

Unfortunately, this is not a possibility right now. We need my measly part-time salary. And I know that I am very lucky I only have to work part-time, and I am getting the best of both worlds. But one day I will realize my dream of being a SAHM and full-time housewife. I will learn how to cook and "Martha-Stewart" my way through crafts and cleaning. I will bake cookies for my children and their friends and make it to the gym 6 days a week.

And, of course, I will do it all while wearing fabulous shoes.

Friday, February 12, 2010


My family. My family is my life. Everything I do and am pretty much revolves around my husband and my son. I love them so much sometimes it hurts. I realize that sounds over dramatic, but it's true. And before I got married I never knew how true it could be.

I never really use to be a "family" person. I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I was a"friend" person. I mean this in the sense that I always would rather be out, surrounded by lots of people, going to a party then sitting at home, watching movies and just hanging out with the fam.

My, oh my, how that has changed.

Now I live and breath my family. Since getting married, the perfect night for me is either ordering in or going to a nearby restaurant for appetizers and drinks (although, now that the baby is here, ordering in is usually more appealing) and then cuddling up on the couch with my husband and two dogs to watch a movie. I would much rather be at home doing nothing then out at a bar or a party. I love meeting the girls for a happy hour every once in awhile, but I'm pretty much over the "going out" phase in my life.

This being said, I feel like I should introduce you (you? I act like there are people out there reading this!) to my family.

My husband, S, and I met in college. I actually dated his roommate before him. I was in a sorority and he was in a fraternity and we like to joke to people that "our eyes met over the beer pong table". We were both spending our first summer in Flagstaff (where we went to college) and had mutual friends. We were also both the only people under 21, although I had a fake ID. About halfway through the summer my ID got taken at a local bar (Devastating!!!) and S and I began hanging out while our friends went out to the bars. We became fast friends, 3 weeks later we had our first kiss, and the rest is history. We have been together ever since and got married in April of 2008. I may be biased, but I think I am the luckiest woman on this earth. S is my best friend, the most wonderful husband and the greatest dad. He is also one of those people that everyone likes (which can actually be kind of irritating if I'm trying to vent to my friends about him.)

My beautiful baby son, L. Now five months old and already such a ladies man. I never knew you could love something as unconditionally as I do this child. I love how he has long little toes that he is always curling under. I love that he crinkles his nose when he smiles. I love when he's tired and he burrows his face in my neck. I love him so much sometimes I sit up at night just watching him sleep. We weren't trying to get pregnant, we had been married less then a year when I found out I was, but it is by far the best thing that has ever happened to us. L makes us better people. He makes the world a better place .He's my little monkey and I love him more then life itself.

Charlie. Mine and Shaun's firstborn. (Had to steal that from you, Ali!) We got him in college. He is our little pound puppy. Everyone swore to us that it would be the death of our relationship.

"Don't get a dog," they said. "It pretty much guarantees that you will break up."

But we didn't and Charlie is a great dog. He loves L. S thinks he is The World's Greatest Dog. S also thinks he can predict the weather and likes to tell people he is a pure bread minituare german shepherd. He can't and he isn't. He is the kind of dog you could leave in the house all day and know he wouldn't do anything bad. I think he has ears that are disportinetly small for his head, like chiuhuha ears. I often make fun of him for this. He has weird phobias (water, vases and wine glasses, just to name a few), but we love him.

Stella. Stella is not the kind of dog you can leave in the house all day and know that she won't do anything bad. In fact, if you left Stella in the house all day you can pretty much guarantee that your house will be destroyed when you get back. She has on more then one occasion managed to get our refrigerator door open and the steaks or hamburgers we were suppose to be having for dinner. She has only ever done this when we were having steaks or hamburgers for dinner, I don't know how she knows, but she does. One Christmas she ate an entire box of liqor filled chocolates that were wrapped and under the tree. When we first moved into our new house she tried to escape the backyard by sticking her head through a hole in our brick fence. She got suck and the fire department had to rescue her. She doesn't mean to be a bad dog..... she just is. She a pure-bred beagle, cost us way too much money, is spoiled and stubborn, doesn't listen, gets into anything and everything, but is also incredibly sweet and so darn cute you can't help but love her.

And finally, the last member of our little clan. Lucy, also known as Lucifer. I decided I wanted a cat. S didn't. I begged and pleaded and he finally caved. And we ended up with the worlds worst cat. She meows constantly. She is very weird, she'll follow you around meowing like all she wants is a little of your attention and then is super skittish when you give her some. She climbs screens. She claws the carpet. She claws the furniture. She bites toes if you move then under the covers at night. S is convinced that she is plotting against him at night because she likes to sit on his nightstand and watch him sleep. And somehow, she has become Stella's best friend. The cuddle. They play. Stella licks Lucy's face to clean her and then Lucy returns the favor. The sleep together at the end of our bed at night. It's strange and not totally natural but by worming her way into Stella's heart Lucy has embedded herself in our family.

So that's all of us. My family. My everything. I realize this is a super long post but I wanted to introduce everyone! (And we will see how S reacts to my use of pictures and initials!)

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Input from the Hubby

So, even though I was feeling quite accomplished and proud of myself for finally jumping on the blogging bandwagon yesterday I still felt like I needed some feedback. I decided the to run my first posting by my wonderful (yet incredibly honest) husband to see what he thought.

"I wrote a blog" I told him after we put the baby to bed last night.

"You wrote a what?"

"I wrote a blog and I want you to read it and tell me what you think. Be honest. I mean, be nice, but be honest." And with that I sent him upstairs to read it while I waited nervously on the couch. And I was nervous, even though this is my husband who I share everything with. I wanted him to like it. I wanted him to think that I was funny and witty and I wanted him to tell me that he thought I was a good writer, that I should keep doing this because he liked reading what I wrote. And the reason I was so nervous was because I knew that he would tell me the truth, even if it wasn't necessarily what I wanted to hear.

He came back downstairs. I waited in anticipation. He kept going and headed towards the laundry room.

"It was good," he tossed casually over his shoulder.

Ok...... good. I'm glad he though it was good, but come on, I'm a woman! I need details. What did you like? What made you laugh? what didn't you like?

He said he liked it, he though it was well written. He doesn't think he wants me to use names (so from the point forward he will be known as "S") or post pictures. He thinks we all already share too much on the Internet with facebook and myspace. I disagree. I mean, I see what he is saying ,but if I'm going to do this I want to do it fully and that means sharing my life and that means pictures. So right now, we are at a standstill. I want to keep going with this but only if I can do it the way I want to.

For now, for this post, no pictures and no names. I guess we will see what the next post brings.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

To blog.... or not to blog?

I have been thinking about this for months now, starting a blog. I've even sat down to do it a few times. But then I start thinking that I'm not a writer, and truthfully it's not as though my life is exciting enough to blog about. I mean, I think my life is exciting and beautiful and wonderful, but would anyone else?

But then, I don't really need to do this for anyone else, it's for me. A place that I can vent and put into writing what I'm feeling and thinking. And I've always enjoyed it, I have been a journal/diary keeper on and off my entire life. I have books upon books stacked in my closet in my childhood home (I suppose it's actually the guest room closet now!) ranging from diaries I kept in third grade and talked about who played with who at recess and which boy I liked, to ones riddled with middle school agnst (usually involving whatever boy I liked), and late high school and early college ones that were more mature and contemplative, although still had a strong focus on which boys I liked. (are you sensing a theme from my adolescence?)

But blogging is slightly more indimidating then journaling, for starters other people can read it! And while I consider myself pretty computor savey, I'm not sure how to make my blog pretty and this distresses me. I'm also worried I might have too high of expectation of blogging. For some reason the image that comes to my head when I think about it is me balancing a laptop on my lap with a cup of tea in one hand while sitting in front of a roaring fire with some soft music playing in the background. I picture the words flowing with ease from my mind to the screen as I write profound and indepth musing of life and love, stuff that people will clamour to read. The truth of the matter, however, is that I don't own a laptop, I'm not much of a tea drinker (a glass of red wine, perhaps), I live in Phoenix and we don't even have a fireplace, and I'm fairly positive I don't have any indepth musing on life or love!

But now I have taken the first step, I have written my FIRST BLOG EVER! Even if I don't do anything else past this, at least I attempted instead of laying in bed at night thinking about trying it. And maybe I will call some of my blogging friends and get advice on how to make it pretty.... because that is for some reason very important to me. And maybe soon I will call myself a blogger.