Back to Normal

After a month of living in sunny 80 degree weather, Superman was greeted back home with a snowstorm.

He ignored all signs of a Nor'easter and took a hose to his precious lawn. Only to have it freeze over.

He shoveled and salted the whole driveway.

He took one look in the refrigerator and pitched and restocked.

He took one trip to the bathroom and grabbed the cleaning brush.

He changed the flat tire and installed a new battery so the car would start.

Then he mentioned that in his phone favorites, I've moved up the list to number one on his "most called." Even surpassed the military and the Blue. This won't last for long since we'll actually see each other, which is just fine by me.

I say, everything is the way it should be again!

Gone

Superman left early this morning for a month-long military training. And I'm totally inconsolable.

A month in military family standard time is equivalent to a day or even less in civilian time. A walk in the park.

But for some reason, this time I've been feeling it harder.  (How did I do this for a six month period last time? Or even a year in a combat zone? What has happened to me?!)

Maybe it's because we've gotten used to seeing each other around (somewhat). Or maybe it's because of baby-related hormones. Or maybe it's that I've been feeling a sense of completeness lately with our little growing family...

I have a new found respect for women who go through an entire pregnancy, even babyhood, all while their husbands are deployed. You are all better women than I. Or perhaps you have more balanced progesterone levels...

The worst is that I've been feeling this way for weeks before today. Anxious, nervous, worried, fearful anticipation.

Oh military, you have a sneaky way of just knowing when things are going really good. That's when you figure it's best to throw a wrench in things. And you never forget to throw in that added punch of insomnia, just to put it all even a little more off balance.

As much as I'd love to just sleep away the days, I can't. I can't make us Army wives look weak...

That and seriously, I have some major work deadlines coming up that I can't just wallow away into MIA-hood.

But for the record, it never gets easier -- as much as I'd like to think and say it does.

One month. Here goes.

Anniversary

Happy Anniversary to the man who would walk through fire -- and under swords -- for me. 

You squash spiders, even though I know how much you hate them. 

You make everything look better with some sweat, paint, and a hammer.

You don't take no for an answer, even if it's the easy way out. 

You may just be a bigger go-getter than me. I said "may," so don't jump to conclusions.

You make me believe I have it all, because I have everything I have ever wanted.

You make me feel safe. Not because of your wide array of weaponry and martial arts capabilities.  

You understand my unconditional love for Gatto. And secretly I know you love her just as much. 

You put a lid on all my crazy thoughts. I know, I'm a lot to handle. 

You're my baby daddy. Consider yourself lucky.    

You have given me everything. EVERYTHING. The funnest and happiest years of my life.

You give me so much to look forward to because the best is yet to come.  

Keeping it Together

There will certainly be a few years in your 20-something's where everyone around you will be putting a ring on it. And I mean, everyone.

Well, for those of us originally from the Middle East -- you can drop the 20-something. I've been attending at least 3 weddings each summer since I turned 14. And each year, I've had different ideas about wedding and marriages... everything from: someday-my-prince-will-come to I-never-want-to-marry to maybe-arranged-marriages-do-work (?) .

Well, we all know I'm married now, so we can put the kibosh on those crazy ideas.

Still, I have to admit that in all my years of observing marriagehood, this year has definitely been the craziest.

Just as there will certainly be a few years in your 20-something's where everyone around you will be putting a ring on it -- There will certainly be a few years in your 20-something's where many many around you will begin to fall apart.

I'm always totally shocked to hear about it. In some cases, it hasn't even been a year!

And of course, if you know me, I totally take personal situations to heart even if they have nothing to do with me. Example: I can no longer watch MTV's 16 and Pregnant. No, I'm not 16. No, I have not been in any of the crazy scenarios these girls are finding themselves in. But still, I can't help but just get wound up in all the crazy emotions.

Confession: One time I legitimately called Superman to ask him if he would yawn and say "hurry up" while I was in labor, and leave me immediately after delivery because got a text that his friends were going golfing and he wanted to go too. (No Joke: an actual 16 and Pregnant scenario).

Superman then proceeded to ban me from all trashy TV. This house no longer has cable.

Anyway, same overall deal on these marriagehood scenarios. Maybe it's because I'm hormonal and have more of an emotional opinion about things. Certainly it's difficult to see behind the scenes of anyone's relationship. Especially nowadays when there's such an outward display through Facebook, etc.

But really, can anyone really sum up why some marriages last and some don't? Certainly no one will submit themselves to the wedding planning bruhaha knowing things may go sour. So why after just one year call it quits? Or sometimes, even after 25 years! Facebook gives us the puppy love, but it certainly doesn't give us much answers!

I read recently that "the Blue" has the highest divorce rate. Higher than the national average. A whopping 80%! I was surprised. But then I wasn't. Because almost every law enforcement story I've covered has had a nasty divorce back story. Almost every conversation has had an "ex-wife."

I mean, every 20/20 and Dateline episode has been about love gone sour!

And of course, all this if followed by me projecting the crazy scenarios on my own life.

Fortunately, reality is different. I love being married to "the Blue" (minus the sleepless nights and constant safety checks and worrying). But maybe that love is not because I'm married to "the Blue," but because I'm married to Superman. That probably makes a huge difference.

And I definitely think I have given Superman a run for his dowry thus far... I find a new way to drive the man crazy daily. But somehow I'd like to think that if he were in charge of writing the rest of this post, he'd write some insanely great things about me.

...which is all why we keep it together.

Superpower Envy

There are many reasons I admire Superman -- I won't bore you with all the sappy deets.

I tell you, the man is a superhero. And while I don't envy many of his super powers (i.e. the ability to fight crime all day and all night, the ability to stand in formation for incredibly long periods of time, etc. [not interested!])...

there is one power that I'd love to have...

That is, the ability to wind down and shut off completely. Unlike me, the man can sleep anytime, anywhere.

As for me, it could be the middle of the night, I could have worked 16 hours and have been hours into a deep sleep, but the minute the phone rings, or I get an email notification, I am wide awake. I've got to answer that phone at all costs. I've got to see what that email is all about. I have to make sure everyone and everything is okay and taken care of.

Not Superman though. He's got such a good wind down routine, that once he's down, there's no getting him up till he's good and ready. A loud phone call may stir him, but he is perfectly content going right back to snoozing. In fact, I don't think he even remembers the phone even went off. For the last half hour of the day, he has so shut down that I don't even think he even processes half the things I say...

How does he do this!?? I have studied long and hard. I have tried to emulate. I have tried to turn off all electronic communications to see if I too can achieve this super power. No dice. I'm just left feeling antsy. I must know everything at all times. I must be awake, even if I am asleep.

Maybe it's a female thing?  A journalist thing?

A bajillion thoughts are always running through my head...

Hunger Games

The Super household has been handed another mission from Household 6 (a.k.a. ME!)

Mission: Feed Superman.

Sounds simple enough. I mean, give the man a cookie and feed him for a lifetime. (Isn't that how the saying goes? Anyway....)

It's not that simple. Not in this household. A few days ago was a prime example -- we came home with four handfuls of bags stuffed with food. Delicious, nutritious food for a week's worth of meals. I stocked the goodies in the front of the pantry so Superman could eye all the goodies. I even placed the need-to-stay-cool goodies in a nice neat row in the fridge so it's within eye level of the superhero.

But this morning, when I went into the kitchen to pack my own lunch box, I noticed everything still neatly arranged in the pantry and fridge. NEATLY! ARRANGED! The way I left it yesterday. This means he didn't even pick it up and think, "maybe I'll pack this for a snack..." and then set it back.

NOPE.

He didn't do a honest to healthy goodness thing. In fact, he's probably reading this while shoving a McD's burger in his piehole instead of the variety of cold cuts I bought. It doesn't take night vision, Mister!!!

This is the dilemma. How do I get the man to eat!?

Superman is not eating (decent food), because he just refuses to grab the food we have! Even though we went to the food store together and he got to pick whatever he wanted!

Hence, this mission will be unlike any other food-related operation that troops under the Super roof have ever endured. It will require intelligence gathering (which won't be too difficult considering the fast food greasy receipts are typically crumpled on the dresser), strategic planning, numerous drills and dry runs, counterinsurgency tactics if the man decides to rebel against the healthy snacks.

Translation: It will require me waking up at 4a.m. to make breakfast and pack lunch because I've realized that's the only way this is going to happen.

Potential counterinsurgency tactic: Spoon feedings while he takes a lunch break in the barracks. Let's hope it doesn't get to that. But just so we're all clear here, that's NOT out of the question!!!

Home

Tonight I'm sitting on our bed, writing my weekly column. The bedroom has a dim glow from our lamps that now have a home on our brand new side tables. I hate overhead lighting and for the first time since moving in, I don't have to turn it on.

Today, I comfortably worked from home in my office, finished all my errands, cleaned, wrote a column.

Superman worked his magic on the kitchen tile, put on his blue, and went off into the night.

The bedroom is new. The kitchen is new. Being "married-married" is new.

This morning, Superman crept into my office while I was staring at a blank Word document, wondering whether I was really going to write something worth reading, or even have the brains to write anything at all (the usual feeling of a writer). He sat next to me in my chair, held down the SHIFT key and typed this:

:) 

And now, more than ever before I feel at home. The lease doesn't end. The movers aren't coming. The deployment is over. There are no life-altering dates to look forward to, or to not look forward to. We're high on family and friends.

This is home.

Saving the World

Ever wondered why I call Superman, Superman? I know we all think our husbands are our own superheroes. But besides being the personal superhero, this Superman is also out to save everyone else.

This image here happens at least once when we're out on the road...

Yes, that's Superman helping pushed a stalled car away from oncoming traffic.

Having a seizure?... check! Car about to blow up?... check! Experiencing a potential public domestic violence situation?... check!

Did I ever tell you about the time he saved a couple from a burning car? Okay, it's not as dramatic as you think, but it's definitely the closest I've gotten to a car on fire. That's a story for another day...

We may not have band aids in the house for the little boo boo, but we stock enough combat duty gauze to save a person who may suffer a lung puncture -- however the heck that might happen.

That's What He Said

I know you've been missing these.

So by know I hope you know that Superman is the definition of Alpha male. Case in point: he spent most of last weekend's Christmas party talking about different gun brands. His solution to all my problems is to "mace liberally."

He's the protector, the provider. Him Tarzan. Blah blah. You get the point. (If you need any more justification: Read This.)

He's no shmoosh.

In fact, even in the beginning stages of our relationship into our engagement, Superman was not a "public display of affection" kinda guy. We've always been super private.

But lately, a few things have changed. Drastically. So I present to you the (I-can't-believe) that's what he said/did:

(At a very public diner, which we frequent very often, so the folks there know us very well):

Me: I'm the best business partner you're ever going to have. 


Superman: You're the only business partner I ever want. 

**Sappy smoochy face; hand holding, melting ooeeyyy gooeyy feelings of warmth and butterflies and rainbows and circus animals and...** Okay, I'm pushing it.

But you get it.

The truth is, damn right I'm the best business partner. Our business is doing pretty darn good while you're on your mini-deployment, Captain! Getting the credit I deserve is pretty good. But the private moments spilling over into public-hood -- in a way that's not disgustingly uncomfortable for other people -- is just way better.

We keep it classy, people.


So cute you just want to barf. I know. We're turning into the shmooshy couple that is super too in love that we're starting to love each other in public all the time.

I. Love. It.

(Minus the booty pinches. Seriously though. Those hurt.)

Holiday Hold Up

When you live in the Apple, it's hard to believe that the holidays are considered the "slow" period.

Everyone's working overtime to make sure that the store fronts have the most magnificent scenes to date, the world's largest menorah is ceremoniously lit 8 nights in a row, there are at least 7 tree lighting ceremonies all within 20 mile radius, and the Nutcracker, the Rockettes, and Hansel and Gretel all go off without a hitch at least three times a day. More Appleites are choosing to rent-a-Santa instead of waiting in the long line at Macy's (yes, I heard this fact from a few moms I went out to lunch with a few days ago), not to mention there are more Scrooges than Santas running this town -- meaning that those of us who live here year round are still working overtime.
 
There's no slowing down in Manhattan.

I've got two chapters of a book to wrap and a contract to seal, while still feeding the daily work beast. So it's been difficult for me to believe that people aren't responding to emails, returning calls or replying to applications because it's "just the slow period," or "everyone's on vacation." Am I delusional to be taking this non-communication personal?

What's the holiday hold-up people!?!? (said the true Appleite.)

The Apple is spinning, and I'm trying to keep up and stay productive while still counting down the days to see Superman this weekend.

I think that maybe once Superman comes around I'll be able to focus and bang out those two chapters, and get that script written -- all in a days work, right?

But secretly I know that when we're together the world can spin all it wants.

I won't give a hoot.

Hope your holidays also hold you up from the demands and deadlines!

Leave a Message

Week one of the Academy is over for Superman, and I've already learned my lesson:

Superman will be unavailable for at least the next six months. It may look like he's around. But don't be fooled.  Don't depend on Superman for any plans and decisions. The fort shall be held down with the power of one.

Leave a message that may or may not be answered after six months... after the beep.

... It's times like this I am so glad I've got my own thing going.

Sleepless in the Apple

I must have tucked away a few experiences from Superman's deployments that only now are starting to resurface.

Insomnia.

Looking back I always think, how did I ever endure? I think, could I ever do it again?

(Deployment powers-that-be, that was a rhetorical question, okay!? thanks.)

I think deployments nowadays are so much easier -- soldiers have social media, skype, gchat... whatever. And they always seem to be so available! We didn't have that. Superman had work to do. I had work to do. And somehow I dug up the foresight in an at least twice a week phone call to know that it would all work out.

This time it's different. It's been a while since Superman's deployment, but a part of me is beginning to think that Superman's mini-deployment (a.k.a. the Academy) is way more difficult. No communication allowed during the week. I got more phone calls while Superman was in IRQ than within a few hundred mile radius. So we don't talk.

But sleep.

Sleep. That's what I miss the most this week. That experience of deployment pseudo-sleep is coming back to me now.

My mind is always racing a million miles a minute with endless thoughts, task lists, anxieties...

So what's an Appleite to do when her thoughts won't let her rest her head, and the double digits on the clock that signal bed time have transformed into single digits that signal a new day?

Get out. Literally. Get out of the apartment and go to the wonderful Greek diner a few blocks up. One of the hundreds -- no, thousands -- of places in the city that are open 24 hours. And not just open. But occupied. Full of sleepless-in-the-Apple people who are on a date with themselves. The diner is more than just a place for a midnight snack. It's a cult of people who have no idea who the heck Superman is, but they get why I'm there. Because they have the same symptoms.

The best place to have insomnia is in the city that never sleeps.

Oysterfest 2011

Superman lost alot of weight these past couple of weeks. I've been feeding the man, I promise. But I can't seem to keep enough food in him to counter all the training he's been doing for the Academy.

Thankfully, this weekend -- our final weekend together before he starts the Academy -- we quit the running around, took a few days off from training, and laid back with our friends and family. This weekend also happened to be Oysterfest on the Cape. So what better excuse to hang with my old roommate Julie and her fun fam, and just...

EAT.

AND EAT...

AND EAT...

I think we did a proper sendoff for Superman as he embarks on the toughest 5 months of his life. 

This trip to Oysterfest was a year in the making. Julie and I planned my presence at Oysterfest since last October, and I really wanted to make good on that deal. The added bonus was that Superman was around to experience it too.

Oysterfest was everything I ever hoped it would be and more... and as always, the Ferro fam did not disappoint.

 I don't think we could've asked for a better way to spend the last free weekend we'll have in a while!

Dear Apple Autumn, Welcome

Oh Autumn, how I've missed thee. How my wardrobe has missed thee!

Apple Autumns are so beautiful. Central Park. Back to School. Sweata Weatha (even for the doggies).Cider donuts at the Farmers Market two blocks up. Upstate getaways. It's the season I live for here.

I know. You're thinking I should have photo documentation of this magnificence. My photos have been lacking lately. Autumn also means fall television lineups, sweeps, and the arduous stretch of nose-to-the- grindstone and no-days-off-until-Christmas. So today, Autumn for me can only be summed up as...

Salted Caramel Mocha. A lot of it. On my desk. Next to my to-do list.

I've actually decided to take on an overnight shift tonight so I can get all of my work done and then kick back and enjoy the first Apple Autumn weekend.

In fact, Superman asked me out on a date this weekend when he comes home. After thinking long and hard... I figure I'll give the guy a chance. (Who am I kidding! I'm totally in love!)

Dear weekends of Central Park, swanky dinner date, yoga, and "I Don't Know How She Does It," (story of my life!) in theaters now. Here I come!

Hope your weekend will be just as fabulous!

When Superman's Away

I hate it when Superman goes away for the sole fact that whatever that will never go wrong in his presence, will absolutely go wrong in his absence.

In less than 24 hours since Superman left for training... Gatto has managed to throw up all over our bedroom floor. And now, my heart is aching for this cat because she just looks so uncomfortably sick and there's nothing I can do.

This has never happened before and I'm convinced that it never would've happened if Superman didn't leave.

Which makes me wonder what else is in store for me in these coming days...

Friday Roundup

Can't wait for this weekend to begin! It'll be sunny all weekend and my parents are visiting! But before that happens, let's recap the madness that was, "this week."

I pondered life as a SAHW, and decided -- no thank you. Not for me, not right now. I've got too many goals and deadlines at the moment. I haven't done enough yet to put my feet up! Okay, maybe that's a poor excuse. I'm just scared to death of  that uncharted territory. 

I concluded that in my mind, at this moment, I'd be free to be a SAHW if I was a SAHM.

But of course, Superman says N-O to everything. Ah, yes. This is life, married to the military.

That's What He Said!

If you don't believe that there are enough of these to start a series... then you obviously don't know Superman.

This morning, as I was getting ready for work, I wanted to ask Superman for a favor. But before I could complete the sentence, Superman said: "no, babe."

Me: What?! You always 'no' me. I mean, N-O me.

Superman: I N-O you because I K-N-O-W you.


We've been married for less than a year and we already have our own "married-speak." This is crazy talk.

Run to Home Base

Tomorrow's the big day!

The whole day today Superman was practically non-stop eating (carbo-loading, he calls it), and randomly running in place out of pure adrenaline. Something tells me he's going to knock it out of the park tomorrow. Fenway park, that is...

Work it

Lately Superman and I have been on a duo gym kick. I'm not a big gym person -- about 1 hour is all I can tolerate, and then I start to think about all the germys that are lurking on all the equipment and need to come home asap and shower.

But Superman and I have been taking some classes together. First spinning, and now kettlebells. And it's been no walk in the park for either of us. But it's so awesome, and has motivated us (especially me) to push my limits.

I drag my feet to the class and give Superman grief, but once our trainer gets that Jay-Z going, I'm totally in.

At first I was nervous that Superman -- the gym connoisseur -- would find these classes to be a breeze. But by the end of class, the man just looks completely worked out.

My sexy sweaty hubs!

And that justifies my feeling completely sore and worn out.

"The Other Woman"

If you're married to a Soldier, you know that the inner circle you think you've created, also known as "marriage," is really a triangle. Because just as long as your Soldier is in it, the military will always be, "the other woman."

In fact, there will always be one person in the military -- whether it's an XO, a battalion commander, or even just a good buddy -- to whom your Soldier will beckon at every call. And in the military, that "call" most likely means no spouse allowed.

We definitely have one of those. Let's just call our triangle completer... C.B.I.

Superman describes C.B.I. as almost inhuman. At first, I thought Superman was a little loony. Until a couple years ago when I met C.B.I. I realized - it's no lie. The man walks with purpose. And when he speaks to you in a crowd, the whole room disappears. Many times I wonder what his wife must be like. I mean really now, it's one thing to be married to a Superhero, but an X-men?

The good and bad of it all is that C.B.I has taken Superman under his wing.

(No, C.B.I. doesn't really have wings... I think.)

Every so often, C.B.I will appear back in our life, and give Superman an offer he can't refuse. And the bad part is sometimes, Superman doesn't. A few times, it landed us in a relationship conundrum because the decision was made before I could even chime in. I thought the "other woman" should just be quiet background noise, but initially it started to have more clout than the Superwife! You betchur bottom that didn't last too long.

Still, every now and again, when the phone jingles with the special C.B.I. ring -- or during a public event when C.B.I. scoops Superman away to talk business -- I can't help but get a little anxious about what new obstacle course adventure "the other woman" will be throwing our way.