In high cotton

The 2nd wedding anniversary is the cotton anniversary. Cotton may seem like a strange thing to use to represent a marriage, but it really does make sense though. Cotton is perfect as it symbolizes the need for a marriage to remain strong and be able to adapt to changes. We’ve had to do that a lot this year. Our second year of marriage had a lot of ups and downs. 

We made it through my constant dizziness and pain while being pregnant.

We made it through the rough few days that brought us the greatest joy in the world – the birth of our daughter.

We made it through sleep deprivation and stress that comes with having a newborn in the house.

We made it through an overnight vet stay for Jericho and a vet visit for a sick Maisy.

We made it through me going off my meds and going bat-shit crazy for three days.

We made it through the holidays.

We’ve adjusted to me getting a new job on swing shift and never seeing each other except on weekends.

We’ve adjusted to being three instead of two and having to put her before us.

We have rough days. We also have really great days. We have everything we need in each other.

Josh is my strength, my rock, my anchor. I get worked up and he calms me down. He pulls me through times I don’t want to keep going. He holds my hand and lets me cry. He goes out of his way to make me smile. He puts my happiness before his own. He lets me be my dorky self without ever having to apologize for it. He tells me I’m beautiful every day even when I think I look like crap. He lets me dream and encourages me to follow those dreams. He is an amazing daddy to our EllieBee. He is everything I have ever dreamed of having in a partner. Yes, he has his flaws and sometimes he drives me absolutely crazy, but the good certainly outweighs the bad. I wouldn’t trade anything for this life we have built together. The next year holds so many great things already – EB’s first birthday, our return to the beach and EBs first visit, our 7 year anniversary in November, and so much more fun and adventure. 

Josh, I love you. Thank you for choosing me.

So cotton. Yes, cotton works quite well for this year.

We are certainly in high cotton.

Soreness.

Our weekends are busy. Always. It does get exhausting and old sometimes. Other times, it’s nice to have things to do. All that “you only live once” and “you can sleep when you’re dead” stuff. Normally, on Sunday night, we’re tired and not looking forward to the new work week. This sunday night we are tired and not looking forward to the new work week, but we are also exhausted and sore and have paint on our toes (at least me anyways.)

See, this weekend we focused on the house. It’s been a long time coming. We’ve be very neglectful of the outside of our home. So we had a long list of things to do. I, personally, trimmed the bushes around the back of the house and the side of the house, took a huge chunk out of the monster of a bush in our front yard, painted the shed, broke up dirt and ripped out some big roots from the flower bed, cleaned off the sidewalk and driveway, painted the front steps, and painted what will be Ellabelle’s dressup trunk. Now, this may not seem like much or like they were easy tasks, but our house was so a)muddy, b)overgrown, and c)dense (pick corresponding word based on chore) that they were all very rough jobs.

Other things that got done as well: Josh’s dad took apart and replaced parts of our shed and fixed our front steps, Josh’s stepmom powerwashed most our house and helped correct my painting blunders on the shed, Josh tore out a tree type thing, and, then, there were the bushes. I have hated these bushes from the very beginning, before we even moved in. They are big and pointy and hang out over our sidewalk and are dead inside so when you cut them back from the sidewalk they look all gross. I hate them. 

So, finally, we pulled them out. The first one honestly wasn’t so bad. It took some work – I trimmed it down with the trimmers and then Josh used a sawzall and a shovel and it came right out. The second bush – it was a bitch. First of all, it ended up being at least two bushes that morphed into one super bush. It may have even been 3. We couldn’t tell for sure. But it took 2-3 hours to get the whole thing out.

making that superbush his bitch

It also involved sawing through a tree root about 2in thick in diameter that the bush had wrapped it’s own roots around as well as the destruction of 2 shovels. Finally, Josh and I got the SOB out. He had to pull the stump towards him so I could try and clip some massive roots. Victory was ours though. And just in the nick of time – the heavens opened and a monsoon hit right after we got the final root cut.

Now we have 15 bags of bush trimming next to our trash can and we’re hoping Rumpke takes them. You couldn’t even see the yard because there was just so much to these stupid bushes. 

So that was our Saturday – yard work, showering (very, very necessary), chinese food for dinner, and my favorite: a nap with my girl. I love when I get those rare times when we all curl up together and sleep. 

Sunday we went outside and picked up the rest of the trimmings that got left because of the rain. Josh mowed. I painted. We went to my parents house and installed their carseat they have for EB since they’re going to be helping us out this week with babysitting since Josh’s hours at work changed. We stopped at Target and found some great stuff on clearance for EB and got our anniversary gift as well as my top for our pictures we’re getting next month.

Someone was not amused by our trip to Target

After coming home and having Josh finish mowing the front yard (he could in the morning because of all the bush corpses that were still laying around) and me repaint the bottom step (the rain washed it all away) we went to Walmart to get another shovel and grocery shop.

That was a lot of info I’m sure nobody really cares about, but my point is our weekends are busy, even when they really aren’t suppose to be. So, tonight we are sore, in body and in mind. There’s been a lot going on and we had a rough last week, but I think this week will be better. I hope so anyways. Josh and I aren’t going to be seeing each other again until Friday because I start work 30 minutes before he gets off, but it’ll be ok. At least Friday is a gov’t furlough day and I get to spend the whole day with my EB and the evening with Josh.

And, oh, yeah, and the finished product:

more pics to come once we get to planting

 

The contents of the cup

Our life has been pretty damn good lately. I have a job. Josh has a job. Our house isn’t in total disarray. Ellabelle is happy and thriving. Maisy isn’t using the bathroom in the house much anymore and when she does its on her potty pad like its suppose to be. Jericho is throwing up only hair balls and not food. Bellini hasn’t lost his chicken that he loves under the stove. All is well. 
So much so that when I mentioned it out loud last night, and Josh made me knock on wood real quick. He’s always worried that whenever anything is going good something bad is about to happen. Still, our glass is really half full these days.

Except when its not. And that’s what I’m going to write about tonight – that empty part of our glass. I’ve been trying to be more positive these days. I try to focus on the good. So, I prefaced this with all the good. It’s a reminder that my life is just that – good.

But I want to come here, to my safe place, and vent. I want to say how there are days Ellabelle won’t stop fussing.

How there are days that Jericho tries to vomit on my chest instead of, well, anywhere else.

How Bellini keeps using the washing machine and table leg as a scratching post.

How Josh sometimes forgets to do something that I asked him, begged him, to do three different times throughout my work shift.

How I don’t get to folding laundry like I planned.

How our kitchen counter is still covered in papers and bills and appliances that were never put away and empty cereal boxes.

How I feel like the worst mom somedays because I put my kid in her playpen and turn on Yo Gabba Gabba so I can nap instead of spending time with her.

How sometimes I get so overwhelmed with people who I don’t think deserve the time or respect my husband gives them.

How I forget to eat lunch somedays.

How showering has gone from a relaxing experience to a burden I must bear throughout the week.

But I’m not going to talk about any of that. Or at least not going to expand. No, tonight, I come here to bitch about my husband. Oddly enough, it’s in a good way. I miss him. That’s my complaint. I see him 25 minutes a day and its in a car with a baby who is either trying to destroy everything she can get her hands on or is fussy and sometimes, on a good day, its both. 

I miss talking to him in more than 10 minutes intervals. I miss laying on the couch together. I miss having him lay next to me at night. I miss having dinner together. I miss him playing duty while I craft. I miss both of us giving EB her bath and putting her in bed for the night. I miss being a wife.

This weekend we got a night away from the baby. We had a good time at my cousin’s wedding, but I wasn’t there, not completely anyways. My mind was still with my baby. I’ve gotten better about not worrying about her so much. Still, I feel like I’m having a really hard time being just a wife in those few moments we manage to get without her around. I haven’t learned how to switch off the mommy mode. Maybe I won’t ever be able to. I don’t know. What I do know is I’ve got to be better about it. Josh tries so hard to be a good hubby. He’s amazing. I feel like I’m letting him down on my half of the deal. 

we clean up good 😉

I have gone from pregnant-and-complaining wife to stay-at-home-mom wife to the MIA wife. I just suck as a wife right now. During the week, we are but two ships passing in the 3pm hour. We get weekends together, and they are currently booked solid. I’m looking forward to August because my calendar is open then and that means more Josh time and more family time with the three of us. I’m sure it’ll fill as we get closer, but still.

So, clearly, my life is still pretty good. My biggest complaint is never seeing my husband. Some people wish to be this lucky. We push on with our days. Hopefully, the cup will stay half full. Or, even better, maybe it will fill all the way up. 

Learning

Ellabelle hasn’t crawled yet. She has no interest. She gets up on her hands and knees and rocks when she gets really tired, but that’s it.

I grow impatient with her about it. I get told over and over to just be happy that I get to spend a while longer without a toddler destroying everything she touches. I’m not known for my patience though.

I honestly think she has the ability to do it. She just doesn’t want to. She’d rather roll to get wherever she wants to go. She takes the easy way.

Having a kid is a true test of patience. She’s going to do everything at her own pace, and, being my mini-me, she’s going to refuse to be pushed to do something. It’s hard for me, the control freak, to just let her be, to do her own thing, but I’m learning.

I can put her on the floor, but I can’t make her crawl.

I can ask her to pattycake, but I can’t make her clap.

I can stand her up, but I can’t make her walk.

I can ask her to talk, but I can’t make her say “mama” (which she hasn’t yet!)

I know one of these days she’s just going to take off and never look back, and I’m learning to just let it be, to stop worrying about it.

She has so much she has to learn. Every day is a new discovery for her. She gets to learn shapes and colors and letters and numbers, and I get to teach her. She is a fresh sponge to the world, but she’s also a teacher. She’s teaching me how to be more patient. I have a lot of work ahead of me in this department, but we’ll figure it all out together. Maybe she’s making sure I know how to have patience before she starts being mobile, cause, once she gets going, she’s gonna keep me on my toes, this one.

I’m going to have to have patience with my lil monster running around!