Eleven

Good golly, Miss Molly. Matt and I will officially be married eleven years shortly before 3 p.m. today. Which, is kind of weird. Sometimes it feels like we've been married forever and other times, I think eleven years is just a drop in the bucket. It's nothing, really.

In hindsight, we were literally babies when we got married. I was 22 and Matt was almost 24 on our wedding day. We thought we knew it all. We had our own apartment, we had our college degrees, we had great jobs. We knew we were going to have kids right away and buy a house. We were going to do everything you do after you get married. Because that's just what you do. You grow up, get married, buy a house, have kids. It's practically a guideline for adulthood.

Except we were in no shape ready to do any of those things. We scoffed when people said we should do pre-marital counseling. We had a GREAT relationship, we never fought, we were madly in love. It wasn't like we had issues. Now we know better and ended up doing pre-marital counseling when we were married for three years and in a marital crisis because, SURPRISE, problems will happen. Your spouse will disappoint you, you might even get hurt along the way, and you'll want to throw in the towel. Because what nobody ever tells you about marriage is that it is the hardest relationship to sustain.

Of all of the people we knew getting married around the same time, it's us and one other couple who are still married. Everyone else is long since divorced and have not one nice thing to say about each other. Matt and I came damn close in 2007 and honestly, the only thing that held us together was me learning I was pregnant with Jackson. I think if he hadn't been on his way, we would have gotten divorced and that would have been that. I like to think maybe that's why Jackson is so sweet, he had a bigger job in life and he didn't even know it.

But in eleven years, Matt and I have learned the following things through trial and error, and more counseling than we'd like to admit:

• In our own way, we are difficult to live with. 
• I have a tendency to be awful. Sometimes my sarcasm and joking around isn't well received by Matt, though it's never my intention to hurt his feelings. I hate to say it, but sometimes we're like Jon & Kate Gosselin. Truly. People rip that couple to shreds, but I'm very much Kate- organized, controlling, bossy, demanding and Matt is very much like Jon- everything could be going to absolute shit and not a single crap is given. Which sends me over the edge because I don't always do well in chaos. 
• His indifference to life makes it hard for me to enjoy myself sometimes. 
• We aren't always a good team together. We are a couple that would only make it onto shows like The Amazing Race just because we would bring the drama factor, not because we had any chance at all at winning. 
• Sometimes I have to be submissive to Matt. Which was the HARDEST pill to swallow in counseling. It goes against everything in my body, everything I was raised to be. I was raised to be independent, to not depend on a man for anything. Which, to some extent, is still very much me. But on the other hand, I've come to recognize that Matt does so much better as a husband and father if I defer to him, even on dumb things. I have learned to include him on every decision, and I consult with him before I do things. Even if I know I'm 100% right (because I am, let's be real), giving him that input makes all the difference. And coincidentally, takes a load off my shoulders at the same time. Bonus. 
• I still struggle with trusting him, though it's been years since he's given me reason to not trust him. They same time heals all wounds but I can say with all honesty, I'm still waiting. But I've also come to realize that maybe it's OK for some wounds to still be there. 
• But the most important thing I have learned is that nobody else is responsible for my happiness. At my lowest low in our marriage came the understanding that if I wasn't happy, I had to do something about it. And I started doing things for myself. Taking better care of myself, bonding with my children, re-establishing my friendships I had let go to the wayside in lieu of making my marriage work, and working on my own self esteem. I consider myself a happy person, but not because of Matt. Matt is just one happy and good thing in my life, among so many. There is no thing as a knight in shining armor. No guy is going to come around and change your life and make it all rainbows. You have to do that for yourself, and if you're lucky, you'll have someone you call a partner in life that gets to see you at your best. 
• And on the other side of the coin, no person is responsible for your unhappiness. It's not your husband, or your wife's, fault that you hate your life. That you aren't as happy as you know you could be. You're unhappy because you choose to be. You're relying on someone else to carry your emotional weight in this world and that's nobody's job but yours. Own it. 
• It helps to be absolutely stubborn and refuse to quit. There will always be times where you think you've had enough and maybe the grass actually is greener out there. And it might be. It absolutely could be better with someone else. But then we remember the vows we said, for better or worse, good times and bad, sickness and health, for richer or poorer.... and then realize we're in it for the long haul. And we're only human. We make mistakes. It's a life long learning process and I know he'll be there to help me along when I need it, just as I'm there to help him along when he needs it.

Love you, babe. Maybe someday we'll get to vacation without the kids again. xoxo

All the Single Ladies

Your summer reading list cannot be complete unless you have a book by Dorothea Benton Frank on it. It doesn't even matter which one, but lucky for you, she must have an intense writing schedule because she always seems to have a new one out in time for summer. (Which is incredibly smart because that means her book tours must be an absolute blast!)

All the Single Ladies - Dorothea Benton Frank

The perennial New York Times bestselling author returns with an emotionally resonant novel that illuminates the power of friendship in women’s lives, and is filled with her trademark wit, poignant and timely themes, sassy, flesh-and-blood characters, and the steamy Southern atmosphere and beauty of her beloved Carolina Lowcountry.

Few writers capture the complexities, pain, and joy of relationships—between friends, family members, husbands and wives, or lovers—as beloved New York Times bestselling author Dorothea Benton Frank. In this charming, evocative, soul-touching novel, she once again takes us deep into the heart of the magical Lowcountry where three amazing middle-aged women are bonded by another amazing woman’s death.

Through their shared loss they forge a deep friendship, asking critical questions. Who was their friend and what did her life mean? Are they living the lives they imagined for themselves? Will they ever be able to afford to retire? How will they maximize their happiness? Security? Health? And ultimately, their own legacies?

A plan is conceived and unfurls with each turn of the tide during one sweltering summer on the Isle of Palms. Without ever fully realizing how close they were to the edge, they finally triumph amid laughter and maybe even newfound love.

I absolutely am a Dorothea super fan. I have read almost all of her books (I'm working on completing them all!), I have purchased many copies of her books as gifts, and I look forward to summer every year because she always comes out with a great read to put you into the summer mindset. Another reason I love her books? They aren't heavy. They aren't depressing, they make you want to move to the Lowcountry area, you love all of the characters and it's such a great story. Always. She is always consistently great and I love it. 

In All the Single Ladies, we have three women who are middle age, and trying to start over. We have Carrie, who is on the hunt for yet another husband after the last prospect dropped dead at the altar, leaving her broke. We have Suzanne, who isn't sure her latest foray into dating is going to end well. Then Lisa, who struggles with her daughter's marijuana tour business, is financially unsteady and unlucky in love, meets Carrie and Suzanne after their friend Kathy dies. The three of them end up living together and getting sage advice from Miss Trudie, Suzanne's elderly grandmother. (And let's be honest here- I kind of want a Miss Trudie of my very own.) All three women navigate the waters or dating, all while trying to prove that Kathy's landlord is an absolute thief and stealing from Kathy's estate which ends in a kind of hilarious conclusion. Just picturing it in my head made me chuckle. 

This was such a fast and fun read, I highly recommend adding this to your summer reading! It's light, it's fun, and it'll be a great afternoon well spent soaking up the sun while reading this gem. 

You can purchase this through Amazon or Barnes & Noble. In the meantime, visit Dorothea Benton Frank's website, Facebook and Twitter! 

Summer is HERE

I have been desperate for warmer weather since pretty much the end of last summer. Yes, I realize that I live in Northern Wisconsin so that means it's only warm for maybe three months and that's not even consistent. My body is not meant to be cold. It's just not. Sadly, Matt refuses to move so I'm basically stuck here.

But it's summer now, and it's warm. AND the kids are officially out of school! For awhile, I thought this school year would never end, but then all of a sudden it did and I have no idea how it happened.

Jackson said good bye to first grade. He leaves having learned how to do double digit adding and subtracting, telling time, reading chapter books, and being able to write fictional, non-fictional, and opinion pieces. And a whole bunch more.

Olivia chucked deuces at third grade. She's an excellent reader, master multiplier, doing well with fractions and divisions, really improved her writing and writes elaborate stories with great detail. She even had a part in a "Geology Rocks!" play, she did really well!

The kids on their last day of school, insisting on having Penelope in the picture.

But then of course, one without Penelope too.

Now that summer has officially begun I am fresh out of ideas on what the hell we're going to do every day. Stay tuned and as I find things, I'll share them. The nice thing is that we've gone on a few walks already with Penelope and the great part is she no longer cries when there is a breeze. Handy, since there always seems to be one here. I tried to sit her in grass today and the entire neighborhood is now aware she is not a fan of grass.

I do have a couple of fun day trips planned and I'm biting the bullet and looking at community calendars for things to do. I'm normally not a fan of that stuff because I don't like socializing with people for the most part. I don't want to hear about your mommy group, the products you're shilling to lose the baby weight, and you can shove your essential oils up your rear because I don't care.

So it should end well, right?

Squatting in Target

So once upon a time, we ran out of toilet paper, baby formula, cat food and dog food. It was dark days in the Strand house, and apparently I am the only one capable of solving all of our first world problems. In order to solve these problems, it was clear I was going to need to make a run to Target.

Scary, because when I go unsupervised to Target I walk in with coupons and a list and walk out with a cart full of crap I don't remember putting in my cart, or remember the rationalizations I told myself that made me think we absolutely needed it. Then Matt gets all judgey when he asks questions like, "why do we own five boxes of glow sticks?" and I'm like, "It was in the dollar section- OBVIOUSLY that's a good deal."

He doesn't understand that sometimes, five boxes of glow sticks is absolutely necessary.

Anyways. 

So I deliberately waited until after I had fed Penelope. She has this super handy thing where in the morning, if you feed her, you have exactly three hours to do something until all hell breaks loose and you need to feed her IMMEDIATELY otherwise she turns into a very scary baby. The girl doesn't play with her food. She wants it, and she wants it five minutes ago. 

I fed her. I changed her. I burped her. I got her sound asleep. We then drive to Target. All is well. 

All remains well until I have gotten to the baby formula aisle and put what I needed in the cart. She starts to kind of cry. I'm not worried, I'm sure that if I rock the cart a bit and hold her pacifier in, she'll go back to sleep. 

Cue really rude woman. 

You see, the baby food aisle is also the aisle with razors, which seems odd, but I let it go. The following conversation takes place: 

Rude Woman: Um, do you think you can move? Like just move the fuck down the aisle? You're taking half of it up. 

Me: *blank stare as I'm now holding a screaming four week old and bouncing like a maniac* Excuse me? Does it look like I'm blocking the aisle for fun? Jesus. 

Rude Woman: You know, not everyone appreciates babies. And you could always go home until it calms down. 

Me: *deep breaths and reminding myself I can't go to jail because I do not have money for bail* Yeah, I get that. I also get that that babies cry and I haven't had any sleep in 48 hours so I'm probably the LAST person you want to fuck with today.

THANKFULLY, Rude Woman huffed and left. Except Penelope continued screaming. At this point, I have two choices: pack it up and go home, hopefully coming back later or toughing it out. 

Since by baby number three, you are supposed to be a professional, I decide to tough it out. So I cover her with a blanket, and I hold her with my left arm. Then I proceed to push my cart with just my right hand, all the while I'm doing lunges all through Target. Because apparently, lunges calm her down. She'll stop crying if you do squats or lunges, so I go with that. 

I proceed to lunge all the way through Target, grabbing the things I need. I will say that lifting a 26 pound box of cat litter with one hand into a cart that comes up to my boobs is a bit tricky and I thought for sure I'd throw my back out, but I managed. 

Then? Then Penelope fell asleep. I got a bit cocky and thought maybe I'd have time to get some new underwear since Twinky has eaten four more pairs and it'd be nice to have something not totally stretched out from my pregnancy ass. But no. No, new underwear wasn't going to happen. Because Penelope started screaming and I had to pick her up again. I decide to cut my losses and check out before someone thinks I'm stealing someone's baby. 

By the time we check out, I'm trying to wheel my heavy cart to the van, on a windy day no less, with one hand, with Penelope screaming. Yes, I'm still doing lunges through the parking lot and my thighs are burning and my legs are quivering, the arm holding Penelope feels like it's going to give out and I'm sweating around my boobs. She continues screaming. 

Do you think anyone in the lot, clearly staring at me to see what exactly was going on, would come over and help me get the bags (and very heavy cat litter) into my van? 

No. Not one stupid person offered to help. Which is ridiculous. 

I frantically hurry to get it in, I'm getting Penelope back into her car seat as fast as I can because I'm hopeful that turning on the Arctic Monkeys cd again (she likes it) will calm her down. I drive home quickly once I realize that oh snap, I was gone TWO HOURS and it is now feeding time so the wrath is going to kick up a notch. 

The best part? By the time I get home, she's fast asleep and then slept for another two hours. 

It's a good thing she's damn cute. 

Winner and One Month.

Before I totally forget, let's announce the winner of a copy for their very own of It's Not Me, It's You!

Lucky number 7 belongs to Shann Eve, so YAY! I will be in touch with you Shann, and I'd love to hear what you think of the book!

The big milestone over the last week is that Penelope is officially one month old.

Let that sink in. Four weeks ago, I gave birth to a third tiny little human. Which is kind of strange when I think of it. I've had a lot of alone time with just her and this is the most different parenting experience to date. For one, I'm far more confident than I was with Olivia, but less than with Jackson. I think time has put a dent in my skills because I find myself sometimes feeling like I'm re-learning everything. It's a bit unsettling, to be honest.

Thankfully, she's a really good baby. Honestly. I might complain about being ridiculously tired, but it's not totally her fault. Matt gets up with her 100% of the time at night (glorious), but I'm finding that while I do get to sleep, I'm not really in a deep sleep so I still wake up exhausted. I'm not totally sure what that's about, but it's annoying.

Over the course of a month Penelope has definitely grown, and I can safely say that I think my arms will be in nice shape by the end of summer if her weight gain is any indication. She still has a bunch of hair, though her cheeks are definitely getting chunkier. She looks a LOT like Olivia but sometimes when she smiles she looks just like Jackson.

She poops a lot. And I mean literally every diaper change is poop. Every one. I don't think I have ever had just pee. Which, yay? I mean, at least I don't have to worry about her having constipation issues like Olivia? That's the positive, clearly.

The kids are absolutely in love with her. Often they fight over who gets to sit with her while I get dressed and pee alone. Penelope very much enjoys staring at her big sister and big brother, so that's fun.

She's just getting to the point where she can focus on a toy in your hand and she really enjoys different fabrics. Anything silky is her favorite, with yarn being a close second. We've gone on a few walks around the neighborhood and doing that while walking a dog really sucks, so hopefully that gets easier soon. This is the last week where it's just her and I at home, the kids are done with school on Friday. I'm not sure if I'm thrilled about this or not? I'm kind of loving my time alone with her. What perplexes me is that while I'm still dealing with some depression issues, I feel the closest with Penelope. Like, her and I are bonding way better than I did with my other two babies. To the point where I don't want to leave her. I did leave her with  my mom on Friday for a few hours and it was hard. God knows my mom snuggled her a ton and she was in great hands, but it was weird. It was the first time I ever felt guilty leaving my kiddo with someone. Definitely a strange feeling.

I think tomorrow her and I are going to attempt to run some errands. Hopefully it goes better than the Target trip from last week. More on that tomorrow.

Topping From Below

If I have learned nothing else from reading this book, it is that I will never, EVER buy a book as a gift that I have not personally read, ever again. Never, ever.

Topping From Below - Laura Reese

An explosive, erotic novel about two sisters, each of whom embarks upon a voyage into the heart of evil and a game with a seductive man who knows no rules or limits. Only one returns. Successful, attractive, and in control, Nora seemed so different from her shy, terribly vulnerable younger sister. Grieving for Franny, Nora reads her diary and is stunned when it reveals a secret sadomasochistic affair with a mysterious professor known only as M. Nora vows to seek justice for the sister she never really knew and undertakes a daring scheme to seduce this lethal and manipulative man in the hope of uncovering information about the murder. Instead, she finds herself in thrall to his bizarre sexual magnetism, trapped in a passion so dark and perverse, and yet so compelling, that she is willing to risk her life. And she is in danger, although it may be from someone much closer to her than M., someone so close she might not see it until it is too late. With an ending as startling as it is haunting, Topping From Below is unlike any novel you’re ever read. Ever.

So full disclosure, I bought this book at Barnes & Noble on clearance. It was around Christmas time and they had some really great clearance books, so I actually bought three copies of this. Two of my friends got it in this little hodge podge Christmas gift from me, and then I kept one. Both friends read the book and didn't say much other than it was definitely interesting. I just now got around to reading it and holy SHIT. I don't know whether to be mortified that I gifted friends this book or scared that they didn't tell me how incredibly screwed up and terrifying it is. 

Because this? This is not like Fifty Shades of Grey at all. Not at all. Yes, it has the BDSM element to it, but this is now the third book with a BDSM element that has literally scared the Jesus out of me. The difference between this and erotica books similar to Fifty Shades and Sylvia Day's Crossfire series is that this version of BDSM is heavily violent. It's violent and it's incredibly degrading. For all of the people who tout Fifty Shades as not a romance and a horrible example of a sexual relationship? You people are absolute pussies because that's nothing. That looks like light slaps on the ass before climax. This is a whole other ball game. There is one scene towards the beginning that absolutely should have made me stop reading (but I didn't because I thought SURELY that has to be the worst), and it's where a woman has her nipples suckled by piglets. No, I'm not kidding. No, I'm not even going to re-type it out to emphasize it because the sheer thought of this? 

There is something really wrong with you as a human being to even think of this, let alone subject another human to this. 

I can read a lot of really questionable things, but this one.... this one really was too much. Just way too much. Not to mention the characters? I hate them all. I hate them. I feel kind of bad for Franny, the sister who was murdered, because I think she was looking for a relationship to be loved and maybe was looking for an older guy to be kind of a father figure as well, combine that with her obvious low self-esteem and right there, you have a woman who says "go ahead, abuse me- I won't mind!" all over her. So in walks Michael, a classic abuser, who sees that and snatches her right up for what he calls play time. Well she ends up murdered so her sister Nora decides to figure out how to make Michael pay because she's certain it's his fault. Except she's an asshole too, who basically was so self absorbed she couldn't see the issues her sister was having, and she then starts up a relationship with Michael to basically drudge up evidence that he killed Franny. Except it all goes to shit because OBVIOUSLY IT WOULD. The author gives Michael a kind of lack luster "justice" and after I read it I had a feeling of, "Are you serious? This is IT???" and it's just bizarre. I finished the book feeling angry and disgusted. If you have this on your "to-read" shelf, I highly suggest you ask yourself how hard core of a BDSM book do you want because this is not the fairy tale, let's-just-have-fun type BDSM. Not at all. 

Keebler screwed me over.

So this weekend I had to go grocery shopping. I'm going to admit fully that being at home all day with Penelope means I do a LOT of snacking throughout the day. It's not even healthy stuff, it's crackers, cookies, and ice cream. Sometimes I forget to eat a meal because it means I will be too full to have cookies and ice cream and that's not a world I want to live in.

But this weekend there were some sales on cookies and other snack things, which is clearly the universe telling me to continue this trend. One item on sale was Keebler cookies, 2 for $5. BUT! I had coupons, so I would end up getting 2 for $3.75. Deal.

I opt for the ol' standby, those shortbread cookies with the chocolate drizzle on them. Who doesn't love those things? (I do. I love them a lot and my family didn't even know we had them because they are now gone.) I also buy these, because the package feels like I'm getting a bunch and they look good. But when I got home and opened them?

My level of pissed off cannot be measured. You see, it's not a real package of cookies. No. It's only EIGHT. Eight lame ass cookies. EIGHT. Who buys a package with only EIGHT cookies? Normally my argument for buying pre-packaged cookies is that it would cost me more to make the damn things and who has that kind of time? But had these not been on sale, I think they are retailing for $3.99 or so. WHAT A FLIPPING RIP OFF, Keebler. They aren't even big cookies.

I of course ate a cookie out of anger at this point. And then discovered that it's not even real marshmallow in the middle! It's like a weird marshmallow flavored paste. It's absolutely foul. I then make both kids and Matt eat these because I have to know if my tastes post-third-baby have gone astray, but no- they also confirm how incredibly disgusting these are. Not only are you trying to process marshmallow paste, but the graham cracker is so dry and crumbly it has the consistency of cardboard that was once wet but now dry and brittle.

And then I just got angry all over again that I spent any money on these damn things.

I obviously then went and had some ice cream because Edy's Double Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream NEVER lets me down.