Wednesday, April 29, 2009

On sippy cups and staring contests

You may not know it to read my blog, but I'm an incredibly strong-willed and independent. (Oh, wait--that was obvious? Am I that transparent?)

Evidence abounds, but when I was three, I can remember my earliest and perhaps boldest display of obstinacy. I was about three, maybe even younger, and was having some kind of temper tantrum over god-knows-what and my grandmother, who took care of us when my mom when to work, threatened to get out the wooden spoon.

I should preface this by saying that Grandma never laid a hand on me other than to hug me. The wooden spoon was more like a long-standing but idle threat. At three, though, I didn't understand the concept of idle threats. She threatened to get the wooden spoon, I thought she was serious, and I was PISSED. No way was I going to sit idly by and wait to get my come-uppance.

So, I did what any three year old would do. I screamed, "No," ran into the kitchen, got the wooden spoon, brought it back out to the living room, and broke it over my knee.

Take that, grandma!

My grandmother and my mother of course burst into hysterical laughter, which of course just ticked me off more, but that's a whole other story.

I tell you this to say that, as stubborn as I am, I think I've met my match in my beautiful 13-month-old little girl.

Monkey Girl loves her bottles. She's been holding her own since she was 6 months old and it just makes her happy. But like all things baby-related, almost as soon as they get attached, we have to break them of the habit. It makes me kind of sad, actually. Poor little thing.

Anyhow, this weekend we finally decided it was time. She knows how to use cups--regular and sippy. She just doesn't like to. She wants her bottle. So, we decided to bite the bullet, and on Monday morning she had her last one.

For two days she drank water out of the sippies, but refused milk. Even though she LOVES her milk. How the hell does a 13 month old have such strong preferences?!

So today we decided we had to ditch the water. We were only going to offer milk in cups or nothing.

Would you believe that when I got home from work at 4:30 she hadn't had a DROP to drink all day?

Seriously, people. We were having a staring contest and I was clearly LOSING.

Finally, after the 10th hour of the third day of the great sippy cup standoff, Monkey Girl pointed to the most bottle-like of all of the sippies, and proceeded to drink 4 oz.

Thank GOD! I swear I was becoming more and more convinced that she would never drink another drop of milk for as long as she lived.

But, the point of all of this is not about sippies. It's that my sweet, adorable 13-month old daughter went THREE FULL DAYS without her favorite thing in the world simply as a test of wills. And she's not even a fully rational being yet.

Holy crap I'm in trouble!

In other news, have I mentioned the extra 5lbs I put on when I stopped breastfeeding? Yeah, well I did. And I don't really have any good excuse that's keeping me off the treadmill.

Oh, and we've made no move for the FET. Hubby and I are going away with friends (and no kiddos) for the first time Memorial Day weekend. We're going to a casino and I'd like to be able to drink and NOT think about infertility or meds or HPTs. So, I think we'll consider going back for the stickcicles after that weekend. If all goes according to plan (HA! You have my permission to laugh.), I should get AF right after our weekend away. So, I suspect we'll head back to Smirky to get things rolling at that point.

For now, though? I guess I'm just not feeling ready. I'm having so much fun with Monkey Girl and Sweet Potato and I just don't want anything to distract me from them.

Soon, though. I know I'll never be "ready," so we'll just have to jump in feet first at some point. Just not quite yet.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Five Years

Five years ago today, I married my soulmate.

I don't say that lightly--I'm not a sap. Hubby is the romantic, not me. I think we both realized that on our first dating anniversary. He designed a necklace and had a jewler make it for me. I got him three Guinness glasses as a joke because I used to tease him because of his (low) tolerance.

Oops.

But, he is. He really puts up with me, no doubt more than anyone would tell him is prudent. And certainly a lot more than I deserve.

I've actually been struggling with that. We're both SO exhausted. In the past year, our jobs have gotten even more intense and challenging than they were. Hubby was promoted to COO of his organization, and I to the VP level (responsibility-wise). We work long, long hours.

To be sure, we both prioritize our kids above everything--I make it a priority to get home by 4:30 to be with them. But that means I regularly work until midnight to make up for it. And still go to bed behind.

So, we're exhausted. And, frankly, I'm not at my--ahem--best when I'm tired. To say the least. My fuse is shorter and my expectations higher. It's a bad combo.

But hubby puts up with me. He's so sweet. He brings me flowers and tucks me in. He makes me coffee in the morning and dinner at night. He takes care of me.

I'm not saying I don't pull my own weight. I do, and then some. Kid care, bill paying, house cleaning and laundry, etc. But, frankly, the things that he does and that he prioritizes are the ones that take care of me.

Of course, I wouldn't kick him out of bed for doing a load of laundry, but...

...ack! You see how ungrateful I am! Argh...

Anyhow, I'm digressing. The point is, hubby is sweet despite tiredness. I'm grouchy. Boo.

So, I'm struggling. I feel like on some level we've entered a stage in our marriage where our marriage is more about chores and kids than it is about us. And to ignore the impact that has on our relationship would be foolish. Not that we ever were doing it in cabs or anything, but it's...um...definitely less. And, frankly, I can't say that I mind. (See above: exhaustion, grouchiness, chores.)

But, I guess the reason I know I married my soulmate is that, despite all of this--all of the chores and exhaustion and grouchiness--I can't imagine going through any of it with anyone else.

Have you ever seen the movie "High Fidelity?" There's a scene where John Cusack's (I heart him!) girlfriend decides very unromantically and matter-of-factly at her father's funeral to get back together with John Cusack. When he asks why, she says, "because I'm too tired to be with anyone else."

I remember when I first saw that, I thought: WHAT?! Seriously, because you're too tired? Terrible idea.

She goes on to say, "I know it's not very romantic. But there will be more romance in the future. For now, I just want to go home."

That's the deal. I know I married my match becuase, when the chips are down, I just want to be with him. Nobody else.

So, while this isn't going to be the anniversary for us where we gaze longingly at each other across a table just before making wild passionate love to each other, it is the anniversary where I know, without a doubt, I am in love with the man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with.

I love you, sweetie. Here's to a sleep-in past 6am.