Wordless Wednesday

 

Wordless Wednesday

Consequences - Part Two

Written on 12/1/17

On November 17th, I stayed a little late after work like I always do. A whole group of us usually go up the road to have a beer, and talk about the week we had. While I was driving home I noticed that I had a missed call from my husband at about 5:30 pm which I hadn’t heard because my phone was on silent. By the time I picked up my daughter, and pulled into our drive way it was already 6 pm. So, I tried returning his call before we even set foot inside the house, but it went straight to voicemail. As I walked up the side of our house I realized his car was not where he usually parks it so I assumed the earlier call had been to let me know he was going out. I left it at that because I knew that he’d find a way to call me if he needed something, or if what he needed to tell me was urgent.

After getting our little to bed, and putting up the laundry I decided to open up a bottle of wine, and have a glass. It had been a gift from the company earlier that afternoon so I figured I’d pop in a movie, and have a taste. While pouring my glass I noticed that it was already after 8 pm, and I still had not heard back from my husband. I got this weird feeling in my stomach, and I remember whispering “Please just let him get home safely.” Of course, this scenario and this kind of worry is not uncommon for me. If y’all only knew. So, I began the normal routine of trying to find out where he was. I tried calling his phone again, but it was still off. So, I sent a quick message to a friend asking if they had heard from him recently, and they said that they hadn’t. And this is when my anxiety started to kick in. Overthinking, and worst-case scenarios began to play in my mind. I tried my best to push all of the irrational thoughts out of my head because that does no one any good. And just to answer the obvious unspoken question: Yes, even with everything going on I still worry about him. I always want to make sure that he’s okay. That he’s safe. And that he’s not in some ditch somewhere, or worse. So I kept watching the door, and turned the volume on the TV down low, half expecting to hear that damn stereo system thumping a block away. I was so ready to give him an earful about how much worry, and anxiety he had caused me. To say “Next time call me from your friend’s phone so I know you’re OKAY!” But none of that happened.

After the longest forty-five minutes of my life I received a call from the sheriff’s office informing me that my husband had been arrested. They allowed me to talk to him, and he told me to speak with the bail bondsmen in the morning. After the relief washed over me - he wasn’t dead - I became really angry. “What the hell happened? What did you get arrested for? Was anyone with you? Why the hell couldn’t you wait until I got home before heading off?!” There was a string of “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. Just call the bondsmen tomorrow….” and then the line went silent. I was redirected to an officer who informed me that they couldn’t tell me much, but they did give me some numbers to call the following morning. And it has been a very uneasy, and uncertain time ever since. From finding out the charges, to finding out how much it would cost to get him out, and then finally talking with a lawyer about what to do. There are times when I’ve cried, and felt pretty damn helpless. I’ve felt guilt over not coming home right away that evening. I've been angry over what he did to get himself arrested. But the hardest part was having to tell our daughter that her dad wasn’t going to be home for a while. I almost broke down as she clung to me, and offered to give me her piggy bank money if it would help get her daddy out. Though I know that this is not my fault, and I know that this was bound to happen at some point due to the choices he was making. It still sucks. I still feel some responsibility, and I hate seeing him in there.

Now this is a small town. So small in fact, that someone runs an “In the Jail House Now” page which takes the previous days arrests, and then posts their mugshots all over Facebook. The Saturday after his arrest my phone was going off continuously. People were asking if I was okay? If our daughter was safe? Had she been taken away? Was I in trouble? They asked if I had seen the posts on all of the local groups. And when I finally got the nerve to look it up, at the reactions, I saw something that I didn’t like. Posted by a certain someone who had no business talking. And the anger just kicked in all over again. At him for doing something so stupid, and reckless. At her for even thinking that she had a right to laugh after all she had done. At myself for even giving a fuck about what was published online. And the truth is, that I don’t care what people think about me. Or what they say about me; about my relationship. I don’t care because they will never know the truth behind our closed doors. They don’t know the struggles, and demons my husband has fought over the years. Some that he’s won, and some that have sadly taken over. But what I do care about, fiercely, is our daughter. When it came time to explain to her what was going on I left a lot of details out. I only let her know that her father made a few mistakes that he was having to take responsibility for by staying in jail for a little while. But that doesn’t mean that she won’t hear other things from someone else. So yes, I care. I care about how she’ll get treated for this at school. About how little ears hear nasty things from adults, and then they get repeated on the playground to my daughter. It’s happened before on several occasions. I care about how much she misses her dad, and how she feels about this whole situation. And I think the fact that this is all even happening, that she has to experience this at all, is what both angers and saddens me the most.

For now, all I can do is try my best to stay positive and adjust to what’s going on around me. Because the truth is that my husband will miss Christmas, and more than likely our daughter’s birthday next year. The truth is that he is the only person responsible for what’s happening to him. And even though all of this really sucks it was probably the best thing for him in the long run. And even though my husband will become my ex-husband in a little over a month there are very few people who are in his corner at the moment. Even fewer who are able to help come up with the funds to hire a lawyer, and get him out in a few months. But I intended to be one of them. I intended to do what I can. To be there for him in whatever capacity that I can.

Wordless(ish) Wednesday

This picture is a little over a year old. My skin is worse now, and he's lost a good amount of weight. But this night was a good one. And I miss these days.

Wordless Wednesday

Stalled

I have no control. My situation goes back and forth, and from one day to the next things change. I'm not a fan of this. I'm not a fan of not knowing. Of not having a plan or an end goal. It's frustrating, and beyond defeating. But there is nothing I can do about it. I just...put one foot in front of the other to keep pushing myself forward.

My husband says that he's not in a good place. He says he is unsure of every little thing in his life. He's confused. He's not sure if he'll ever be ready. Sadly, my daughter and I suffer right along with him. I've been told so many different things over the past month that have left my head spinning: I'm wanted, but then I'm not. I'm too jealous, but then I don't pay enough attention. I'm missed, but then not missed enough. I have done too little too late, or too much too soon. I am not enough, but at the same time I'm too good for someone like him. I've been told that I should leave him alone, stay out of his business, and yet I am the one at fault for not repeatedly informing him of events that pertain to our daughter. He wants us back, but then he doesn't miss our life. It's back and forth. Back and forth.

My nights are no longer my own. Before I was comforted in knowing that at some point, whether it was 9 pm or 1 am, he would bring himself home to us. He's not anymore. That reality is like being kicked repeatedly in the stomach every time I step through our front door. And at night, I find that my mind races and my heart feels so heavy with the sadness. He's living in a different house with his brother now. They throw parties, and invite other women over. My gut tells me that something is bound to happen, if it hasn't already. Playing with fire like that is not good. But, that's what makes him happy. One morning as we drove by I saw a woman's car parked in their drive way. And I remember just feeling so heartbroken. So lost, confused, and just hurt. From the back seat, as she looked out the window at their house, our daughter quietly stated, "Mommy. Daddy's not coming back home, is he?" And just seeing the look on her face made my heart crack. Our new reality hit me again, full force. "No, baby, I don't think he is." After I dropped her off I saw the pictures plastered on social media of the four of them all hugging each other on their couch. Later that morning when I asked him about it, he told me that I needed to stay out of his life. To stop "stalking" him because he needed space. The woman that stayed over was his brother's girlfriend, he said. He also stated that they were all just friends, and he was entitled to those. I guess he's right. However, I don't think what he's doing is very respectful to me, or to our marriage. Because, we are still married. I have male friends, but I don't go out partying with them or hugging all over them. I have more respect for my husband then that. What he's doing. Who he's inviting into his home. That's just like pouring gasoline next to an open flame. We no longer take that route anymore. It was too much for me to handle. And our daughter no longer asks to go over to see him.

Prayer, my parents, and the few close friends who know what is going on have been really getting us through our days. Keeping busy, and finals approaching next week have been huge distractions. The hardest time for me is at night when Em is finally asleep, and I'm left alone with my thoughts. I constantly wonder what he's doing, and who he's doing it with. Is he missing us? Does he regret his choices? Will he ever find his way back to me? Would I even want him to now that he's taken things so far? Sometimes, I get angry. I tell myself that I should not be okay with being a "second choice". I should not be the backup that someone settles for. I refuse to be someone's afterthought. I deserve to have someone who wants me, through the good times and the bad ones. Someone who fights for me; for us. My daughter and I deserve to have someone in our lives that wants to spend time with us. To be a family. I deserve to be wanted. Then there are nights when I sob into the shirt he left behind because I miss him so much. I feel like I'm being crushed by the weight of all the pain his absence has left behind. It echos in everything. The empty walls that once held his musical instruments. The silent rooms that no longer hold his laughter, or the music he meticulously worked on every day. And the empty drawers I refuse to fill up because they were his. I curl up on the couch, shirt in hand, and I close my eyes while I cry. I sit there long into the morning hours, waiting, pretending that he'll walk through the door at any moment.

Whiplash; An Update

I've been looking at the previous posts, and that hurt I felt is still very much present. Only it's ebbed a little. As soon as I was able to I started to see a counselor because I wasn't handling things very well emotionally that first week. I did as my husband had asked which was to give him space, and I struggled to get through half a day without crying my eyes out in the bathroom. I smiled for our daughter. I went through the motions. I took a few days off from work, and during one of those days my mother sat me down to say "If you need help, we'll get you help. Just say the word, and we'll find you someone to talk to. You can't keep this all inside." Before her words even fully sank in I scheduled my appointment. And I've been going ever since. 

I've had a great support system throughout all of this which I'm extremely grateful for. I've also learned a lot about myself, and I'm still working through things. So far, I've come to terms with some of the parts that I had a play in when it comes to why things went the way they did in my marriage. I know that there are still plenty of other reasons I have yet to uncover too. But baby steps, right? I've also really, and truly realized that it wasn't all my fault. Some parts were, but not all of it. When I would speak to people about what was going on they'd always tell me, "You know this isn't your fault, right?" I'd nod my head, agree, and just breathe out slowly. Inside was a different story though. I would replay everything, and try to figure out why someone I thought loved me could have so much hate towards me? Obviously, it was me right? There was something wrong with me. If he fell out of love it was because of something I had done, right? What had I done? What did I need to do to fix it? What had I done to deserve this?

As week three rolled around, I slowly realized that I would be okay. I really felt it with every part of me that whatever happened I would come out of it stronger for surviving it. Obviously it was not an ideal situation, and divorce is not something that I wanted. But after leaving my counseling sessions every week I felt like I was chipping away at this huge blackness surrounding my feelings, and invading my thoughts. I was coming home feeling like I was finally constructing a vague/fuzzy outline for how I'd handle what was to come. It was a start. So I continued with the space, and no contact about anything that did not pertain to our daughter. One Friday night I decided I need a distraction so I went to see a band play at a local bar because I had realized that it had been so so long since I had gone to hear a band that I enjoyed. My husband never wanted to go with me to see a band that I liked if they were in town so I just wouldn't go. And even though I was still hurting immensely on the inside I found myself smiling as I sat with one of my sisters and listened to the music. Afterwards, I thought to myself, "You're still here. The world hasn't crumbled. You'll be okay." the entire drive home. And for the first time since he told me about wanting out of our marriage I felt some of the pressure lifting off of my shoulders.Not a lot, but enough to give me s bit of hope.

What I hadn't expected was for my husband to apologize. What I hadn't expected was for him to tell me that the four weeks we've been apart have been miserable for him. That he's seeing now what all he took for granted, and how he was wrong to have blamed everything on me. And I really didn't expect him to tell me that he wanted to work on things in order to give our marriage another chance. But most of all, I didn't expect how hesitant I was to believe what he was saying. Just three weeks before I was being told that I was no longer wanted. And as I begged him to reconsider his decision he had told me "no". So, can you imagine the emotional whiplash that resulted from his words? The confusion, and the doubt. It all clouded my head, and sent me back into this fog I had worked so hard at trying to clear. And still today, I'm not sure how I feel or what to think about all of this.

We mutually agreed to remain separated while we each figure things out. Whether it takes two months, four months, or longer I don't know. We've agreed to take things one day at a time though, and we've agreed on one "date" night a week/weekend. I put that in quotations because those are the nights that we will sit down to talk about how we're feeling, and the direction we're headed. Just to assess where our minds, and feelings are at. This past weekend was our first "date night", and for the first time in what feels like a really long time we were able to talk like civilized people. The discussion never got heated, we each took turns expressing ourselves, and I felt like this was a pretty momentous thing for us. Not just as a couple, but as two individual people. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy our time together that evening. It had been forever since we had last had a dinner together and not only talked about the hard stuff, but the daily stuff as well. It felt pretty new again, and I wasn't sure whether that's a good thing or not. I'm conflicted about what these actions really mean, and it's something that I'm currently working through with my counselor. It was nice though, and I hope that things continue to progress in a good/healthy direction.

This in no way means that we will reconcile. We're both aware that in the end this might not work out. There are certain things that I refuse to budge on because they should not be apart of our lives in any way. I made it clear that there were deal breakers, and he also expressed his as well. But so far this has allowed us to communicate, to actively listen to each other, and to be expressive of the things we miss or don't miss about how our marriage was before. We do still have a lot of love for each other, and that's not something that just goes away. Still, regardless of whether we work things out or agree to part ways we want to be amicable about it. I hope that things change, that we get better, stronger. You all know that was my hope from the very beginning. To overcome and be better people for it. But there's no guarantee that this will be the outcome. For now, we're trying. And that's really all I had asked for; to try.

 

Struggle

"It's not the end of the world. It's not the end of the world. It's not the end of the world. YOU will be okay. A little bit broken, but okay. Things will get better. The pain will fade. You will be okay. It's not the end of the world."

Every day is a struggle. A struggle to get up, a struggle to get dressed, and a struggle to want to do anything besides hide underneath the covers. I wake up, and for a moment I think that everything is a bad dream. Then I look around and realize I'm not at our house. Our clothes are still stacked in baskets next to the bed, and Emery is sleeping next to me, with no one else on my other side. And then, I move. I sit up. I let the reality hit me again. And everything starts to hurt. I move. Because there isn't much else I can do. The world doesn't stop turning just because my husband no longer loves me. Life doesn't hit the pause button so I can grieve.

It's been hard for me to adjust to not being with him anymore. Monday, after I got out of school I found myself selecting his number, and right before I dialed it I almost dropped the phone in shock. I was about to call him to see if he wanted me to pick up some food from town, which was what I always did after class. And earlier that day I had been pulled into a meeting at work, questioned about my attitude/emotions in regards to recent events, and the first thought that came to mind was "I need to talk to Beau when I get home." They're reactions. Motions I automatically did every day. Like when I roll over in bed and feel for him, but he's not there. And all of these things hurt so bad. What makes it even more painful is that he's not even phased by this. He's living it up, talking to other women, and partying. I'm here broken into pieces and it feels like I'm never going to fit back together quite like I used to.

But I have my daughter to think about. I have to keep moving. I have to keep going forward. One foot after the other. Slide on the jeans, pull the shirt over. Walk. Find my shoes. Brush my teeth. Move. Take care of little. Fix her lunch. Tie her shoes. Pack her bag. Go. Life has to keep going. My daughter can't put her life on pause just because her daddy no longer loves her mommy. She's five. Right now it's all about her friends, and sight words. It's about playing at the park, practicing her cart wheels, and "Friday Funday's". Though she knows things are different, and that we're apart she's too young to realize the extent of everything. When she catches me crying I get her sympathy in the form of hugs and words: "Mommy, don't be sad. It'll be okay." or "Mommy, I LOVE YOU. Okay? Okay. Don't cry." And so I dry my tears, and I move. I can't just stop living. The world won't let me. Life won't let me. So all I can do is keep my head down. Take one step after another. Breathe. And keep going.

"It's not the end of the world. It's not the end of the world. You will be okay, A little bit broken, but okay. The pain will fade. And you will be okay."

This post was written on November 2 & 3, 2015.

Separation; Divorce

I’m sitting here in my parent’s spare room/apartment sipping on a cup of spearmint tea while trying to process the reality of my new situation. The reason for why I attempted so hard to make my birthday a good day is because that was the same day that my husband informed me he wanted a separation.  The following day he informed me that it would more than likely be a divorce because he could no longer see a future with me. He needed us to leave while he gathered his things, and found a new place to live. A week, two tops. So we did. And now I sit here, while my daughter watches “The Thunderman’s” on my tablet, completely dumbfounded. I was just given the news via text message that he’s found another place to live, and will be out of our house within the next few days, which means that she and I will be able to return to our home as soon as the end of this week.  The only thing I can think to do, or even find myself needing to do is writing it all down.

   

Our current situation is heartbreaking for me.  Though I love my husband; I can’t go down with that ship anymore. I can’t keep chasing ghosts, or trying to make him see something he clearly refuses to open his eyes to. And the truth is, him walking away, will probably be for the best in the long run. You see my husband has his demons, and lately they were consuming him as well as tainting our lives in horrible ways. But he refused to change or seek out help. My love for him kept me weak to the point where I dealt with whatever his problems manifested into. I took the brunt of everything being dished out, but in his eyes I still became the enemy in the end. I offered to set us up for counseling, or even if he just wanted solo sessions I encouraged him to try. But he refused. I tried to compromise on things most people would have viewed as being out of the question to begin with. I've been asked constantly, "Why do you put up with that?" I've even heard, "You deserve better." But my answers were always the same..."He's my husband, and I love him." I was there for him when no one else was, and it was always my responsibility to make sure that he was okay. I did it all because I loved him, and that’s what spouses do right? They’re there even in the darkest of times. Family members would sometimes tell me about some of those enduring couple stories to help me get through a tough day: "I know this lady who stuck by her husband for 15 years before he turned his life around, and they are good now. So it's possible for you to have that too. Just be patient if you can, and be there for him when he needs it." So I had hope that things would be better. Eventually. I prayed every night. I asked for signs. I counted the good days as blessing, and the bad ones as just something we had to deal with. It was all part of the process. But I always had this faith that one day he would realize that change for the better needed to happen. I wanted him to realize that our daughter and I were his future. I wanted our fairy-tale to be one that lasted, that endured the bad, and made it out to the other side stronger. But that doesn’t look like it’s in the cards for us.

So when he told me that this is what he wanted, I was blindsided. But, I let it be. I gave my warnings, and of course we had some words. Ending our marriage is not something that I take lightly, and it’s certainly not an easy thing for me to swallow. I’ve wanted nothing but the best for my husband. I still do. I want him to succeed, and to be happy. I want him to be a good person, and to feel fulfilled. I also wanted him to be a family man that wanted to spend time with his family.  Someone who made us a priority. But my husband has decided to move backwards rather than forward.  And what's so crushing to me is that he went from one day telling me he loved me as he walked out the door for work to telling me that I was the reason for his unhappiness the very next day. He decided, what seems like overnight, to rearrange his priorities and they no longer include me. And the pain from that...has left me feeling like I'm being torn to pieces. I fear that his decisions, and the choices he's been making since he asked for the separation will only lead to really bad things for all of us. But I've been told adamantly that it's no longer my concern. And so, I’m letting go. I’m trying my hardest to step back, and let him do what he feels he needs to do. This is his lesson to learn, not mine.

I think the hardest part about our situation, for me, is how our daughter will be affected. I wanted us to BOTH explain what was going on, but that didn’t work out as planned. I was left with undertaking that task on my own. It’s not easy to tell someone you love so much that their world is about to be turned upside down. That even though you love their daddy so much there was nothing else that could be done to change how the future is about to unfold. Of course I looked into some of the ways to tell your young child that you’re separating. Some of the advice given was what I expected to hear. Things like telling them it’s okay to be sad, to feel confused, or to cry. There was other advice about how you need to reassure them that both of you will continually be there for them no matter what. Even as I spat out the words it all felt so surreal. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening. She took it as best as any five year old could I suppose. And every day I ask her if she needs to talk she’s more than welcome to. Or if she wants to call her dad she can. She’s resilient though, and she’s strong. She’s also really smart, and sympathetic. Today, she made some joke, and with so much pride proclaimed “Oh, I sounded just like daddy!” Then she closed her eyes tightly, peeked out of one slowly and said “Oops…Mommy, does it make you sad that I sound like my daddy?” Of course it didn’t make me sad, well maybe a little, but not in the way she was thinking. So, I just smiled. I told her I wasn’t sad, but instead I was glad she sounded like her daddy. She has a little bit of both of us in her, and she should never feel like that was a bad thing.

All of this while communicating daily with my husband about what will be taken, and what will be left behind. How will our assets be separated, and how long will our various accounts still be joint ones? What does he get to take to his new home, and what will I get to keep? Which TV does he take, which movies does he pack, will the dogs stay with me or him? Are we going to file immediately, or take some time to think it over? It’s all so trivial, so foreign, and something I had never thought in a million years I’d have to consider. And yet...here we are…

This post was written on October 25th 2015 at 4:30pm. I've only just now gotten the courage to publish it. 

A Night Out

My husband and I hardly ever go out. I know a lot of people would say that we should do it more often because it helps to keep things fresh and interesting. It's also a good way for couples to have some one on one time, especially after they've had kids. Unfortunately for us, we live in a small town. There's really not much to do other than going to the movie theater, bar hoping, or out to eat. And let's just face it, those things get kind of old after awhile. We also live on a very tight budget, so that limits our options even more. In the end we mostly choose to stay at home, or we bring Emery along which turns it into family time. This kind of defeats the purpose of a "date night" though.

Fortunately for us, we were able to have one of our rare nights out last Friday. A friend of my husband's invited us to go watch him play with his former band for their farewell show. Apparently, the members all decided to pursue different projects so they officially decided to part ways. We bought our tickets early, and my mother agreed to watch Emery for that night. We weren't planning on being out all hours of the night, but I packed Emery an overnight bag just in case. We dropped our little munchkin off around 7:30 and made our way out to the bar.

The first thing I realized once I stepped into that place was that I am no longer twenty years old! As I get older, I think the realizations come more frequently. The older crowd stood off towards the back, and on the dance floor while the younger crowd gathered up front. It was weird to see the "line" clearly drawn and I told my husband I felt like we didn't really belong in either section. We were too young to be in the older section and yet too old to be in the younger one. My husband told me I was being silly, so I ended up moving us to the front right along side all of the babies. :-P

Now I'm picky about my country music, but a show is a show. I always like to be at the front, and by the speakers because I love getting to feel that bass running through me. If you don't think country music has bass, think again. We watched the opening band play the last half of their set, walked around and said hello to the people we knew, and then made it back around once the main band took the stage. Once they started to play, you could just tell that this was their last show. The crowd was louder, and more energetic. Everyone was singing at the top of their lungs. It got hot really quickly with all of the bodies pushing up against us, and you could still see a huge line waiting to make it's way in.

We didn't stay the entire set. Since the show had been sold out, and we could still see that line outside, we stayed for a little over half of their set before leaving. We were also up way past our bedtime, and we could feel it! So we opted to head home early in order to avoid the traffic, and grab a bite to eat. We picked Emery up before heading home and were all in bed before midnight. It was a pretty perfect night. I'm glad we were able to go out and have some fun!

Wordless Wednesday

Four Years

(via Viva Photography)

You and I are constantly pushing each other. We've been through hell and back. We've laughed and cried. We've seen each other grow into adults. We made one beautiful little human. And here we are, still standing. Four years later. I couldn't imagine sharing this life with anyone else but you. Happy Anniversary Babe! Here’s to many more years!

26

Happy 26th Birthday Babe!! Another year older, another year wiser. I think. Maybe? LOL! I love you! You're my best friend, and I'm thankful to get to celebrate another year with you. Hope you had a wonderful day!

Wordless Wednesday

News

I got ahead of myself.

Everything went well.

Everything was checked out, the employment test was passed.

 Then a new policy (that started this year), requires that everyone have a drivers license. 

 As you all know, my husband does not.

They can not give him the job.

Patiently Waiting

Over the weekend, my dad informed us that a position has opened up for my husband. His supervisor and my brother’s supervisor both told my dad that they had an opening with my husband in mind so we should be expecting a call within the next two weeks. They still have to go through “all of the motions”, a formality, but my dad told us it’s a sure thing.

I. AM. SO. EXCITED! Our savings has dwindled quite a bit, and I’ve been having to work through all of my lunches just to give us the extra cash we need. These past few months, we’ve had a lot of commitments that we couldn’t turn down or reschedule. So, our budget was stretched pretty tight. Thanks to my parents not charging us for rent or utilities until my husband once again has a job, we’ve been able to manage.

But guys, when I say that I’m tired. I mean it. By the time Friday afternoon hits, I’d be totally capable of sleeping through the entire weekend. But I can’t. And then Monday rolls around and I have to added up our bills for the week. Then, I mentally calculate how many hours I need to work in order for us to get by. I was even ready to get rid of my iPhone for a regular talk & text phone. In fact, I’m still debating it. It’s just so hard to let go of all of those handy little apps. *sigh* So spoiled.

So now it’s just a waiting game. I doubt we will hear anything until next week, but man I can’t wait. We need this. I’m a little tired of pinching pennies. And I’m more than ready for us to start saving in order to move out. Seriously. As much as I love having my parents so close, I’m just ready to have our own, fully functioning, place. I’m ready to have some breathing room in our lives as well as in our pockets. So wish us luck or say a little prayer in our direction. Fingers crossed that we hear something sooner rather than later.

The Carnival and Some Much Needed Cleaning

This past weekend flew by. I'm sitting here wondering how it's already over? On Friday we took Emery to the carnival as planned and we were joined by my mother-in-law. I was surprised at how many rides Emery decided she wanted to go on this time around. There were even some that she wasn’t allowed on which left her bummed. She ran into her little friend Camilla there and they rode the carousel together.

Saturday my husband was sick, so we stayed in. I stayed up reading, and finally finished the book I was on. Sunday came and we went into town for some cleaning supplies, and I went to town on our rooms. I rearranged Emery’s furniture, moved her crib back into it (converted it into a toddler bed), and put her toys up in plastic containers. It stays so much more organized! I was also finally able to go through her shoe collection and clothes. Man, I got rid of a lot of things she didn’t need or even fit into anymore. It was so nice. Once I was done with that I started on our room and the living room. A few weeks ago our living room TV went out on us so we replaced it with the one in our room. Which means we had to move all of our players and consoles out of our room and find a place for them in the living room. THERE WERE SO MANY WIRES. It was ridiculous. But I was finally able to get everything hooked back up and out of the way. Then I attacked the closet. I was able to bag up the remainder of our winter clothes and got those put away. I organized all of my shoes in containers, and organized my mini bookshelf. Ooh, it was so nice. I can look into our rooms and see so much space now. For someone who's as OCD as I am, this is AWESOME! Later that night, after putting Emery to bed, Kim and Carlos brought dinner over and watched True Blood with me. We stayed up till 1, talking and watching TV. A perfect ending to a long day.

Monday came around and my husband was sick again. Vomiting his guts out, coughing up phlegm and blood. It was nasty. So I stayed home with him. Emery went to the sitters, just in case whatever my husband had was contagious. We came into town to do some grocery shopping, and to buy some Emetrol for my husband’s nausea. That combined with antibiotics have really helped him kick whatever bug is going around. You’d never think it though. When men are sick they act as if the world is ending and the pain is unbearable. My husband is no exception to this. I had to put up with the moaning and groaning all day. Thankfully, today I was back at work. He also called on my lunch break to tell me that even though he still felt a bit sick he was able to hold food down. So now, all I can do is pray that it isn’t contagious. I can’t afford to have all of us sick. It’s always miserable when that happens. Not even joking.

Today has dragged on forever. I always feel like this when I've been off for more than two days. So here's to hoping that the rest of the week fly’s by. I want a weekend filled with nothing but sleep. Soon. Hope you all had a great weekend, though!

Monday Blues

Ugh. Monday.

I vote that we have four day weeks, and 3 day weekends. Just a thought.

This weekend was way too short. On Friday, my back pain flared up. Bad. I didn't feel like cooking and neither did my husband so we had dinner out. By 7 pm my back was in a lot of pain. It was not pleasant and I spent the rest of the evening in bed. My mom gave me a bit of a rub down, in hopes that it might help until I was able to go see a chiropractor. Thankfully by Saturday morning, my pain was limited to just one spot on my lower back instead of my entire back. I even tested it out by jumping on the treadmill for a few minutes and I'm happy to report that my back didn't give out. :)

That day we didn't do much. It was pretty hot during the day so we mainly stayed indoors. I’ve been really tired lately, and combined with my back problems I was in no mood to be going out and doing much of anything. I popped Tylenol like candy, and Emery stayed entertained with Netflix and her toys. Yea, I felt pretty crappy for letting the TV babysit my daughter. Judge away. My parents “came over” at a certain point and took her into town before cabin fever set in. I took this opportunity to take a nap and it was freakin’ awesome! Saturday night, we had dinner with my mother-in-law and then when we got back home I got to spend some time with some friends. We had ourselves a few beers, sat on the tailgate, and just talked. We could have stayed out there all night but we all had things to do on Sunday. So, we turned in around midnight. I'm such a rebel, huh? 

Sunday, we did some cleaning, laundry, took naps, and then finally made it into town to visit with my mother-in-law again. Once we got home, we got some good news about the job my husband has been waiting to hear back from. Turns out that the department gave my dad the “go ahead” to get a resume from my husband! The manager told my dad that he would hire my husband but that it could take up to 3 weeks before he would be able to start just because they still have to go through all the same channels as they would with anyone else. So we’re looking at a start date towards the end of June beginning of July. This is such awesome news! To say that I’m excited would be a huge understatement. This job has a great starting pay, steady raises, and some awesome benefits. These are all things that we could use right now. If things go as I would like them to, we could be completely out from under our debt by the end of this year. Yea, the job is that good. And maybe by the beginning of next year we could finally rent a place of our own. So here’s hoping we keep getting good news!

Hope everyone else had a lovely weekend!

P90X With My Husband

Ohmygosh.

My husband has been on this mission to lose weight. At first he was just cutting down on what he ate, and then he kind of started talking about how it wasn't enough. He wasn't loosing very much weight. So I told him to try out the treadmill. He did this for a week and said he definitely felt better. He was burning calories, having more energy. Being a person that loves to run, I was pretty thrilled by this. Except, then I realized we’d have to share the treadmill. LOL!  But I was just excited that he was taking this whole “working out and dieting” thing seriously. Then, someone offered to send him copies of P90X.

At first he was a bit skeptical. He watched the infomercials, and read the testimonies. But he wasn’t quite sure if he could do it, whether he even wanted to, or if it would even work. I have an uncle who did it, and he came out of it pretty toned up. He made better food choices and was healthier than he’d ever been. So after sitting a few afternoons in the kitchen listening to him talk about how he really wanted to try it out, I told him that if he really wanted to do this I would join him. Gasp! I know. The minute the words came out of my mouth I knew I was in for it.

So this past Monday, we started our journey. We cleared out all of the junk food. Stocked up on some healthy alternatives. We decided that he would do the work outs in the morning and then I would do them in the afternoons. So that afternoon Day 1 of P90X officially began. It. Was. BRUTAL. I don’t think I have ever had such an intense work-out before in my entire life. Sadly, I did not partake in the two DVD requirement for the first day. I pushed through the first one, and BARELY made it through the entire hour. I felt a little soreness at the end of it, and I was out of breath. I figured this was normal, but that I’d be good to go the next day.

Ouch.

That is all I can say for the rest of this week. My husband and I could barely get out of bed Tuesday morning. Actually, I’m pretty sure we had to take turns rolling off of the bed this entire week. I did one DVD for Day 2. But on Day 3, I was having problems with walking and getting up at work, so I took a break from the workouts that day. Yes, I know that’s not how it works, but people, I was in pain. Not just sore pain either, my entire back was on fire. I can feel that something isn’t quite right, but until my husband gets this next job, I can’t afford to go see a doctor. Yesterday I did one DVD again, and today I’m feeling MUCH better. I know that it seems like I’m cheating, but I’m not. I just switched the recovery day for this week. I’ll be back to their regular schedule next week. And hopefully, I'll be able to do at least one full DVD and half of the other.

My husband has stuck with it the entire week, though. I’m pretty proud of him! He joined this challenge group on Beach Body that he’s found to be really helpful. It’s kind of like a support group too because they give each other encouragement to keep going every day. It seems to help him a lot on days that he really feels like just laying in bed. But as of right now, we’re almost done with week one! And we’ve survived!! Woot woot! Now, let’s just hope that we can keep this up. We still have three more weeks of Phase One, and if they’re just as intense as this past week, we are so in for it!

Have a wonderful Friday everyone! 

Wordless Wednesday