love

My birthday was last week, and it fucking sucked. I didn't get to see any of my family before I left for the day, which isn't anything that different, but usually Pat gets up and we have coffee while reading the paper together. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but in looking back, it just adds to my shittastic day.

I am able to squeeze a quick workout in after work and go to pick up my kids from aftercare and daycare. Sarah wishes me a happy birthday, and then as we drive away from the school, she proceeds to fight with me about going to choir. We get Emma and head home to where I find cards and birthday gifts, unwrapped, set out on the kitchen table. I open the card from the kids and it's great, I love it. Pat's card is nice, but there isn't a thing written in it. The gifts are fine, strange, but fine; he got me a pillow and a lap desk for my laptop-neither of which I needed or wanted. My husband got home, and figured out what we would have for dinner and went and picked it up. He could tell I wasn't thrilled about the gifts, but never said a word to me about how my day went, never said happy birthday, never gave me even a hug or a kiss. We went to bed and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I woke up Thursday morning in a horrible mood. As I got ready for work, it hit me that the only person who hugged me the day before was the toddler. The only person who told me they loved me on my birthday was the toddler. I cried on my way to work and got so angry with my husband for being an insensitive jerk.

I had a long talk with one of my best friends at work and she told me that I needed to have a talk with him about how I felt and that it wasn't anything to do with the gifts. She worked with me on finding the words to tell him that I need more affection, things needed to change.

I followed her advice and we had a great talk after dinner that day. He agreed that he needed to do better and that we needed to work on things. He neglected to give me the hug and kiss that I needed though. Our evening was interrupted by a trip to the ER with the little one, but he genuinely seemed concerned and willing to put forth more effort.

The next few days, he was working in the evening, but he made it a point to kiss me goodbye and tell me he loved me. But that was the extent of it. Last night, was our first evening together in a few days. We were having some decent conversation during the Steelers game, despite sitting on two separate couches (something I told him was getting in the way of our emotional intimacy). He wasn't that into the game and had said that if the Steelers fell behind by 14 points, he was turning off the game. At halftime, we closed up, went upstairs, and got ready for bed. He cleared off his side of the bed and then went downstairs, I assumed, because he had forgotten to do something. He never came back up. The game continued to be a blow –out and he stayed downstairs. I began to get pissed. The later it got, the more pissed I became. Emma woke up and needed to go potty, and when I got up with her and he still wasn't in the bed, I was fuming.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I really felt like we needed to spend time together, talking or just being close, considering what went down on my birthday and the fact that he just came off working an evening shift which means we don't get to see too much of each other.

I am still pissed off this morning. I really feel like he wasn't even listening to what I said the other night. I need to feel appreciated, I need to feel as though I am important, I need you to ask how my day went, I need you to touch me, a hug, a kiss, a hand on my back. I need to feel like you are putting me and our marriage first every now and again. I need you to realize that when I tell you that I had a rough day with the kids, that I need some support from you, a hug, something.

heart attack

Last week and part of this week, the big girls are attending Camp Daddy. I have to work and didn't want the girls to miss out on morning swim practices. I didn't want a repeat of last year's pre-team experience for Megan. Pat was off on Mon & Tuesday and then was scheduled to work evenings the rest of the week. IT was perfect. I didn't have to pay for camp, the kids didn't miss out on swim practice & they got quality time with Daddy! Win-Win-draw!

The girls had dentist appointments on Thursday. Pat was not thrilled to have to take them, but knew there was really no option. I always hate taking the girls because at some point I'm going to get a lecture about how they need to brush better, no fruit snacks, etc. The last few times we've gone, Megan has ended up with a few cavities. I, think I have come to dread her appointments more than she does. I can't think of anything I would rather do less than go with her to get a cavity filled.

After their appointment, Sarah called me at work to let me know that she had 5 cavities and Megan had 3. My mouth dropped and I couldn't even muster a sound. I knew that their brushing wasn't the greatest, but I had not anticipated this. Part of me was in disbelief and I think I finally muttered a "you're kidding, right?" I still can't remember what Sarah's response was, I just sat there at my desk trying to get my mind to grasp hold of what she had just told me. Finally, I heard Pat's voice on the other end of the line. He chuckled, "I told Sarah there was no way you'd fall for that."

Evidently, Sarah is following in her father's footsteps. He is always trying to shock me and get me to believe his outrageous stories. Both girls had a perfect visit to the dentist with NO cavities and little chastising by the dentist. Go figure!

Where does she get this stuff

Pat had the following conversation with Megan in the car on the way to the eye doctor. Seriously, she cracks me up sometimes.

The DJ on the car radio was talking to people who had undergone surgery for amputation. A gentleman called in who mentioned he had to have a leg amputated after he was wounded in the Gulf War.

Megan: Daddy, that guy had to have his leg cut off when he played golf. But, you play golf.

Pat: No Megan, he was hurt in the War, the Gulf War and had to have his leg amputated because of the injury.

Megan: How did he get home then, hop?

Good Cop Bad Cop

Why is it I am always the Bad Cop? Pat always gets to come in on his white horse and save the day (at least in the eyes of our girls). This weekend is no different.

For weeks, Pat has had plans to go to Pittsburgh this weekend to participate in a golf tournament put on by one of his high school buddies. He had planned on taking the big girls up with him for some alone time with him as well as an opportunity to see Grandma and Pappy without any cousins around to spoil their time.

As usual, we had to dangle this trip in front of the girls like a carrot in order to keep them on the straight and narrow. It worked for Sarah, but not so much for Megan. She refused to participate in pre-team swim practice (daily swim lessons with assistant coaches from Sarah's swim team). It didn't help that the main coach for her class was a tad bit impatient with the 4, 5 & 6 year-olds in the class. [Seriously, in a terse voice did you really have to threaten her that if she didn't start participating she would have to be removed from the water because she was holding back the whole class? If you had just let her get acclimated a bit by standing on the stairs, she probably would have been fine. Also, if you would have joked around with her instead of being all "coachy", it might have helped.]

All Megan had to do was participate in swim class. I usually don't issue ultimatums that I don't fully plan on following through with. So, when she refused to participate on Wednesday (the 3rd day in a row), I pulled the plug on the trip. As much as I wanted my "free" time, I was willing to sacrifice for the greater good. I knew that Pat was disappointed and that my mother-in-law would be VERY disappointed, but it had to be done....she has gotten out of control.

Wednesday, Pat informed me that my mother-in-law had already purchased tickets to the zoo and that their Aunt had gone out of her way to secure pool passes for them as well. He really wanted Megan to go so that this was not a waste. He got to play good cop. I think that he gave her a stern lecture Thursday morning and told her that she needed to apologize to me and that if she did, she would be able to go on the trip.

As I said goodbye to them later that afternoon, I reminded Megan that she had been given a gift. If I found out that she had behaved horribly on the trip she would be in trouble upon her return.

I'm sure she doesn't believe it though..not with Daddy always coming to her rescue.

Long lasting Aluminum

10 years ago today, I married my best friend.

Barf...I know it's terribly cliche, but in this case it is absolutely true.

The past 10 years of my life have been wonderful. I cannot imagine what my life would have been like without Pat by my side. Believe me, he has his flaws just like everyone, but he has kept me laughing for the last 10 years and the 4.5 years of dating prior to that.

He is my confidant, my rock, my best friend, and my pain in the ass.

Over lunch today my coworkers and I were discussing marriage. One of my friends mentioned that they had heard that the 7th year of a marriage was the hardest. Another one agreed, but then her marriage ended in divorce. I thought and thought then stated that I couldn't recall a really bad year.

We have had our ups and downs, but I can't really remember any horrible fights or stressful times in our marriage. Other things in life may have been difficult, but they brought us together instead of tearing us apart.

The time has passed quickly, yet I feel like he and I have always been together. I can't imagine my life without him and I am glad we found each other.

By the way, evidently the traditional gift for a 10th anniversary is ALUMINUM! Nothing screams I love you more that a roll of tin foil or a can of soda!