Moving on... Maybe?

Baby Dalia is here! And our whole little world knows it...

I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep up with blogging on this site for a while. My parents have asked me to start a blog so they can keep up with Dalia since they live so far away (here's hoping they finally gussy up the means to move closer!) In the meantime, here's the blog I made -- just for Dalia's far away grandparents.. but if you're so interested, you can keep up too! 

http://growingdalia.blogspot.com/

 

The Best is Yet to Come

So many wonderful things happened in 2012 that I'm sad to say goodbye.

Of course, I did not know how wonderful it would be. The year started with me knowing that I would have to leave the Apple for a good long while, and that depressed me big time. But, like a fierce and independent woman, I threw on a pair of stilettos and got myself a great job in the Bean. I made the most of the cards I was dealt.

I won the whole darn game.

Bebe consumed most of the year (and my belly) this year. By far she was the game changer. Now that we're only days away from her arrival, and the start of the new year, I can't help but think that as good as God has been to us this year, surely the best is yet to come.

As I make my annual 100 resolutions for the new year, I can't help but think about what I've learned this year:

• Nothing, NOTHING in life is just handed to you. So quit complaining and pitying yourself and fight for what you want or change the situation you no longer want to be in. Even if it's hard. 
• No does not mean No. Every no is a future yes.
• Everything EVERYTHING happens for a reason. The good, and the not so good. Just because that reason isn't revealed to us right away, doesn't mean there isn't one. 
• Actions always speak louder than words, and most times spell clear writings on the wall. 
• My least favorite word is "busy." Because that concept doesn't exist. And the fact that I can say that with three jobs and a baby on the way means it's true. Busy is bull and a word worth eliminating as much as the people in your life who use it.  
• Just because you're married doesn't give you the license to drop the ball. Marriage spoiler alert: the bar is set higher for a spouse than for a date. Putting the marriage first is not easy and chances are you're not good at it. Like many things in life, it's a WORK in progress.
• I'm emotional. I'm sentimental. I like surprises when I don't have to hint at them. And I like the yucky love stuff. This year I was certainly short-changed. (Besides crying my eyes out at the gender reveal ultrasound).

2013 will certainly bring on big changes -- some obvious, but many that will seem unexpected.

Let's do this!

Nesting Mode is On!

It's been a while since I've peeked in to update you. 

We've had an amazing month of friends and family -- a wonderful baby shower (where it finally hit me that we're having a bebe!!!!!!), and so many wedding and baby announcements. Superman learned to swaddle and change a diaper in our birthing class, and my whole world changed in a way I can't quite explain.  

I secured a new writing contract which has pulled me in a new and exciting direction. I won another journalism award and immediately thought of how important it is for bebe to know that as a little lady she can do whatever she puts her mind to. She can have a career and raise a family and be happy -- after she learns to crawl and walk, that is. It won't be easy. It may require sacrificing date nights for three months, especially since a forgetful husband may not take initiative to pick up the slack of decisive planning and execution. But she can be a woman who's got her own "thang" and can manage to pick herself up from her bootstraps when things aren't quite perfect. She can be the opposite of dependent.   

Every day last month, I couldn't help but think of how the day would be different once bebe is around. Our house is not clean enough. Our nursery still looks like an office no matter how hard we've tried to revamp (mainly because our furniture hasn't arrived). We're working over-over-time to be able to afford those diapers. More than once, we've (seriously) discussed private school and college options for bebe. Mind you, she's still breathing amniotic fluid.  

In short: 

We're in nesting mode. Big time. 

I have never before experienced this feeling of "I can't wait" and "I can wait" at the same time. For instance -- I can wait for labor pains. I can't wait for bebe.

Once the rest of our furniture arrives -- which has been promised to us in a few weeks -- I think we'll be good and ready.

As for the labor part. Well, I've got to buck up (maybe on meds). A girl can't be pregnito forever. (Thank goodness!)

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!

Structure

A slew of new endeavors in my life has forced me to realize (and act on) the fact that I need to structure my time. I'm juggling four jobs and two new big Big BIG projects and I've been learning the hard way that doing everything all at once isn't going to work. I need to carve out time and devote that time to one thing and nothing else.

I'm glad that bebe is still in the pouch while we're learning this lesson. Right now, she's quiet and goes wherever I go. But in a few months, that won't be the case. That's why I've got to hunker down and create some structure.

Every parenting book talks about the importance of structure for a baby. The more a baby knows what to expect and when to expect it, the less fussy baby will be, and the easier our lives will become.

Let me tell you -- if it wasn't for bebe, I would brush off the idea of structure and just focus on trying to keep all the balls in the air at once, even if it kills me.

I think having bebe in our life has really taught us the importance of creating structure, respecting time, and sometimes saying 'no.' That's saying A LOT for the Super couple who does everything, all the time, every day, no matter what.

Today, I was scheduled to work 16 hours. Normally I don't quantify the hours spent working, or really talk about what I do "negatively", because I love every minute of it. But forget the part about working. Here's the bigger picture. Those 16 hours comes after working 6 days straight, oftentimes on up to 6 different projects.

• The only sun I see is from an office window. Don't ask me about my vitamin D levels. 

• Superman decided to have the landscaper put a new lawn in. All I see is a new green whoosh as I'm either leaving or coming home. Now he's having heart palpitations because our untended-to lawn is dying. 

(Superman has clearly violated soldier handbook rule #4897345789 - "Do NOT start a big project that you cannot complete prior to leaving your spouse for a long time, expecting her to clean up after your mistake... the woman has a life ya know. And it doesn't revolve around going down YOUR to-do list during every phone conversation. Show your household commander-in-chief some respect. Ya Rookie.")

• I live on peanut butter and cream cheese and cereal. The most extensive cooking I've done has been turning the knob on the oven and sticking some leftovers in there. Don't ask about that one time I left the knob turned even though there wasn't any food in the oven. Don't ask for how long it was left turned on. 

• Don't even ask me how many days in a row I've worn the same pair of socks. Don't ask me where all of Superman's socks have gone even though he hasn't been home for a month. 

Today, for the first time, I said 'no' to the scheduled 16 hours. I don't feel as guilty as I thought I would.

So thank you bebe! Thank you for coming into existence so we can learn to structure and simplify!  You may just turn me into a over employed, vitamin D enriched, full meal cooking, laundry doing superwoman who does it all in its structured and scheduled time. Let's hope. Or this is going to be a long 18 years.

Deployments & Giving Birth

While I didn't know it then, I know now that nothing has better prepared me to give birth than going through a deployment.

Why's that? Well, nothing I explain can say it better than this post over at Household 6 Diva. So enjoy reading her insights!

Wearing my heart on my Pinterest board

It's not so difficult nowadays to know what's on someone's mind. All you have to do is check out what they've been pinning lately on Pinterest.

Although Superman defines Pinterest as a whole bunch of random STUFF that threw up on a website, I tell him that only multitasking overthinking women like me know that there's a method to the madness.

A few months ago, all I could pin about was home renovation ideas. Now that we've OFFICIALLY entered our nesting phase (more on that another time), it's all Bebe. 

I don't consider myself crafty, or a DIY expert. I've done a little, but nothing to brag (or blog) about. Besides, that's what Superman is here for. I point. He does. Sometimes he lets me hold a tool or two. But not the scary ones. 

Still, Pinterest stirs my imagination of all the fun things to do with Superman... even someday with Bebe... even some amazing party ideas for the future pregnitos in my life...

Admit it, ladies. You too wear your hearts on your Pinterest boards. 

In the works

I just returned from a week-long stay in Michigan visiting my parents. It was a much needed break from the hustle of daily life in the Bean, and has definitely shaved some days off from Superman's time away without me feeling it too much. My parents also appreciated seeing the bump and feeling Bebe kick for them for the first time. We even snuck into one of my dad's checkup rooms in between seeing patients, so one of his tech's could perform an ultrasound. I love being able to check in on Bebe every once in a while just to make sure she's behavin' in there.

Now that I'm back, there's a lot happening. A LOT. All good things.

Most of it is "in the works," so I won't count the eggs. But soon there will be more reasons to wake up earlier so I can take a few extra minutes to get polished for work. (Even though few and far between, my rolling-out-of-bed-look must now be sealed in everyone's repressive memory forever).

I know. I hate when people are vague, but lately I haven't been able to sit still long enough to make it all real here yet. But I will.

All I know is that I'm blessed. Blessed blessed blessed blessed blessed...

Soon, I will share the blessings with you.

My new favorite word(s)

So far, I have loved every minute of being pregnito. Trust me, I can say this because based on the stories I've heard from other women, I've had it really easy so far.

But there's one part I'm not looking forward to. I'm sure you can guess that part. I'll give you a big hint. It's the part when it's time for the pregnancy part to be over. I think you get it.

As a woman, I have every right to be scared, nervous, and to get those meds on speed dial.

As for Superman, he doesn't quite get my reservations. Come that fateful day in January when I'm squeezing the life out of his arm and yelling worse obscenities than all the boys in Southie, he'll get it. I'll make sure he gets it, real good.

One night before dinner he said to me, "But I thought you love baby!"

Honey, I love baby. I don't enjoy the daylong rough 'n tough process of bringing baby into this world.

There's a difference.

Later that night, we were flipping through a pregnancy magazine and I came across an article about an emerging trend where the husband gifts his wife with some serious postpartum bling. A thank you for nine months of her not being able to recognize her own body, and an additional I-love-you-so-much-for-pushing-baby-out-of-woo-woo. It's called a "push present."

Push Present. 

And there you have it. My new fave word.

This trend is familiar to me since in the Middle East husbands typically gift something shiny to their wives after baby is born. I don't think Superman took it seriously when I told him the tradition because.... this is the red white and blue, baby.

Well, the fact that we saw it in an American magazine as an emerging trend just sealed that traditional deal.

Face it, Superman. You cannot deny me the fruits of my labor.

The ideas are flowing... So, what are we thinking ladies??

Park it

I love our town for recognizing that I need a parking spot of my own. Granted, it's right next to the handicap spot... 

Still, my waddling self appreciates it. 

Word to the mothers (to-be). 

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.

Happy Day Trip-aversary to Us!

Superman knows I have a soft spot for day trips. He has taken me in a WWII plane, beach hopping on a bike, a river cruise to an Oktoberfest... 

But that was all so long ago. Like some new bling, we were seriously overdue. 

Luckily, Superman gets it. And so off we went for a surprise day trip to a tiny town in southern Mass. 

He called this, the "October Surprise" haha! I'll take it. 

Scratch that

Remember a few days ago when I said all this? 

Well, scratch that. I take it back. Forget the idea of getting that bike back...

Yesterday I witnessed a motorcycle smash into the back of a car. The driver crashed through the back windshield. If I hadn't swerved, I would have sandwiched that motorcyclist in. This isn't the first time I'd seen a bike crash, but it was by far the most horrific as-it's-happening crash I had ever witnessed. I'm not sure what ended up happening to the motorcyclist, whether he lived or died. He really looked in bad shape. Half of his body flew right into the back seat of the car. The other half hung over the trunk of the car. The sound of his body pounding keeps replaying in my head. It shook me. Hard.

It was God's way of saying that we enjoyed that bike while it lasted. For me, that's now good enough.

An Old Stem, A New Leaf

Every year in my twenties has been completely than the year before. Different state, different job, different schools, different point in my relationship with Superman. Friendships have come and gone... 

But no life-changing year has been as radical thus far as the transition from Apple to Bean. 

Some days, I miss the Apple girl. I miss the rush and the attitude and the style of the city. 

And while a part of the Apple will always be with me, I can feel the Bean creeping its way in. 

For instance, in the Apple, if I saw a shady looking women yelling obscenities on the street, I would just walk by. She's shady. She's loud. She's in the Apple. So what. 

Last night, I saw a shady woman on a street corner close to my home and called 911. Even though she wasn't loud, she's a stranger and she's in my town. I was more scared of that than anything I had ever encountered in the Apple. Really. 

In the Apple, a weekly brunch date at a new spot was a must-do. Now, the only apple living I do is go apple picking at an orchard.

Don't get me wrong, I'm embracing the here and now. But I'm fighting to transform on my own terms. There are some things I just won't give up. And at the core, you can see I'm still an Appleite through and through... 

This photo is a bit old, but the sentiment lives. Maybe next year, I'll be in a completely different place in life, but today I say: 

Rock on, domestic diva. But don't let the comfort of the Bean suck the fun out of you.  

Here we go again...

Our military hiatus is over. 

Just when we had slipped into a routine of together and work and home and TV and relax and bed... the military has ordered Superman away for a month of training. 

Better now than when bebe's here, we say. 

Last time Superman was sent to this particular locale for training, I was sent the following picture of him: 

All I kept thinking to myself... besides, I HEART THIS VISION OF A MAN... is, I hope to hey-zeus he did not go out and get himself all of these toys. 

Because Army wives, we all know that when our husbands leave for prolonged periods of time, you can almost guarantee they'll get the toy itch. 

And you can bet your life that they'll scratch it. 

Luckily he only scratched one of those three itches. This: 

At first, I was nervous and scared of the dang thing. But soon enough it became a staple in our relationship --  an integral part of our dating adventure. We even featured it in our engagement photos. But in our quest for financial freedom before tying the knot, we sold it. That's when I realized how much I loved it. I think I cried more than Superman. I loved that bike and everything it stood for with all my heart. 

As long as I'd known Superman, he owned a bike, so seeing it go was like a losing half a person. He felt the loss too I'm sure, but not as hard as I did. 

Now, I've got the itch to get this toy back, and ironically Superman is not having any of it! It's certainly not the financial freedom this time. I think being a part of the Blue and seeing what these bikes can do to you when something goes wrong coupled with baby on the way has turned him into a no-thank-you. 

Nonsense! Let the record show that I want one. I want to ride all over town with one. I want to join in the bajillion motorcycle runs for charity and  be a raging motorcycle riding philanthropist. 

I'm just saying that if Superman decides he wants to scratch that itch at this locale again, I wouldn't be mad is all. 

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...

On Board with Bebe

I'm not sure if (and when) is the appropriate time to announce that you're expecting.

Of course, the easiest people to tell right away are family and close friends.

In fact, we announced it in a really fun way --  see our great photographer's blog post about it.

But what about the next circle? And then the wider circle? And then the even wider circle? And then your workplace!????

While I'm beyond excited about bebe, I had (and still have) some serious dread about telling my boss and coworkers that I'm expecting. Would everyone else be just as excited? I dreaded being looked at as dead weight who's going to take substantial time off and will need to be replaced even though I have no intention of quitting. I dreaded being looked at as someone who didn't take her job seriously. I dreaded being passed up for a promotion. I dreaded. And dreaded. For five pregnancy months I dreaded.

Until I came back from Costa Rica with some cajunas, and an unmistakably bigger bump. I forced myself to just get comfortable.

I'm glad I did. Work has been nothing but supportive (and EXCITED!). I'm glad I also waited until I was semi-comfortable to accept whatever the reaction may be (though it's been infinitely better than the dragon breathing fire reaction that I conjured in my head). I definitely have not told everyone at work. I figure a few people knowing will get that conversation started (I mean, it's a "news" room people).

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever look back at this first pregnancy and think about how stupid it was that I was scared to share the great news! Maybe I would wish I'd have gussied up the nerve to just share sooner. It's a natural process of life, anyway!

It just took me five months the first time around. Many people definitely have told me that five months in is a little late to be making that announcement.  But really, what is considered the "right" time?

These past few months have taught me that I am jaded by the certain "good ol' boy" mentality in my career field. That I have taken to heart all of the pieces I read and the circumstances I've seen first hand that, in some workplaces, women are definitely NOT treated equally in many respects as men.

But what am I going to do about it? All I can really do is just stay honest with myself, love my body and God for this miracle, embrace my beautiful growing family, and keep my nose to grindstone in my career.

Because it ain't ovah. 

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!!!