Phone call and Prayers

Communication to Diego Garcia was a little bit of a hassle. It was a long and tedious procedure that if derailed at any point in between had to started all over again. The process went like this, First I had to call a number in hawaii after I got through to that number I was then given a dial tone and dialed to the island of Diego Garcia, if that call went through I again got a dial tone and had to dial a another phone number that actually called his room.

The problem with this process is that the phone number to Diego Garcia did not always go through. I would sometimes be trying to get through for about 1/2 hour. Unfortunately I would have to start the process from the beginning and dial into hawaii, which before all the cell phones and VOIT, came out to be a little bit expensive. The most unfortunate thing would be if I got through all the process and he wouldn't be home. I'd feel like I just wasted my time. Yes, I felt that he should be sitting by the phone and waiting for my phone call, ignoring hunger and desperation to go to the bathroom. 

A funny thing about these calls is that there was about a 5 second delay. This meant that if I asked a question it took about 5 seconds for it to get to him and them 5 seconds for me to hear the response. It could be 10 seconds before I heard anything. This caused for a lot of arguments at first because I would think he was preoccupied or ignoring me, and he would get frustrated because I would ask the same question over and over again. Sometimes because of the delay we would be having 2 entirely different conversations. We had to learn patience and the art of listening. 

Diego Garcia is 13 hours ahead so I would call him in the mornings when the baby was still asleep or he would call me late into his night. He would call home with the use of calling cards. We communicated almost daily. I loved hearing his voice. We would pray over the phone together. It was the new way we defined our relationship. Phone calls and prayers. 

Saying Goodbye

We moved in with my parents. He was due to leave in 2 weeks so we could take a little but of vacation before he left us. It was pleasant at my parents. My parents had recently experienced empty nest in their 3 bedroom house so the baby had her own room and he and I had another room. My parents both worked so most of the time it was just the three if us. We decided to visit his family again before he left and then did some of the local touristy things to do, take the baby to Disneyland and the monkey zoo.

 The monkey zoo refers to the Santa Ana zoo. The reason it's called the monkey zoo is that one of the stipulations of the lease of the land is that there must always be at least 50 monkeys on the grounds. The zoo does have other animals but you have to get past all the monkeys. After a while one monkey looks just like another. I know you experts can probably tell me the difference but I am ok not knowing.

The night came that he was to leave. He would fly out on a military flight at midnight. I took him to the airport and checked him in. I sat there with him waiting for his flight to leave. We sat there, no words, just holding each other. We hadn't been apart in 2 years and we were used to each other. I could not cry, it would not help. It was time for him to leave. " I love you," I whisper in his ear "And I you," he whispered back.

He boarded the plane and I watched the plane leave and disappear into the night.

Moving

We were moving out of our apartment and he was getting the movers to come pick his stuff up for diego garcia. This is the moment when it finally hit me that we would be apart for a whole year. He was only sending his clothes since the furniture would be provided for him. We would first vacate our apartment and stay with some friends for a month and then move up to my parents where I would stay while he was at his new duty station.

While packing it was amazing to see how our life was sorted into a series of boxes of all sizes. All the boxes where labeled and it was interesting to see what room held most space as far as boxes. It turned out to be the kitchen with all appliances and pots and pans and utensils. Our bedrooms, the baby's and mine, would be basically moved into my parents home and they said that we could use the garage as storage.

we packed the boxes into a friends truck and then drove it to my parents, they were only about 2 hours away. then we drove back to the apartment because now it was time to clean. Once we moved all the furniture we noticed how dirty everything looked. we cleaned all day and into the night. We were dirty people, at least that is what I concluded if it was taking us this long. We scrubbed walls, because at this point the baby knew how to exercise her drawing skills and the wall was her canvass. we got into corners and cleaned windows.

He decided to do the bathroom (sure take the smallest and easiest room) He was using bleach and some other cleaners and had the door closed, all of a sudden he ran out of the bathroom and straight to the trash. Umm yeah the man had done the one thing it tells you not to do at the bottom of the cleansers, DO NOT MIX WITH OTHER PRODUCTS! He was nauseous and could no longer work because every time he smelled bleach he went running to the trash. I think this was a ploy to have me do all the heavy cleaning. We called it a night and went to our friends home. We would turn in the keys the following day.

insensitivity

The baby was getting out of the baby stage and entering the Toddler stage. She was walking and feeding herself. She was losing that 100% dependency I complained about and I wanted it back. I wanted her to stop progressing and just lay in my arms for the rest of her life. She was great and I wanted another one just like her. We set out to get pregnant. And me Miss fertile Myrtle was granted that wish.

I had gone to the hospital to have the pregnancy test. It came out positive we were excited. We were locating to a place that did not have a military facility nearby so I had the task of choosing a doctor. this was a new concept for me for I just picked one that took my insurance was nearby and was accepting new patients. The appointment was in about 2 weeks. By my estimation I was probably about 5 weeks pregnant. We had told our families and everyone anticipated another child. Unfortunately I miscarried before I was able to go in and see the doctor.

I was sad but was able to handle it, I kept my appointment with the OB just to make sure everything was well. He examined me and then made the statement "are you even sure you were pregnant?" What a most insensitive  question. Yes I had been pregnant and yes I did know how to tell if I was pregnant. I got up and left his office.We went to visit some family a week later and a family member said to me, "I heard you had been pregnant and had a miscarriage, what is wrong with you that you can't consistently stay pregnant." I immediately rattle off statistics on miscarriages and how most women who miscarry in the first trimester are not aware that they are pregnant.

Even though I was ready to defend myself with both the doctor and the family member, I began to have doubts about my body. What was wrong with me, did I truly understand my body? He stood by my side and assured me that there was nothing wrong with me, and that we could handle it together. He supported me and held me up. and this too shall pass.

Stupid genetics

I looked in our closet and I noticed something, his clothes took up more space than mine did. I was looking through his clothes and noticed that some styles were a little dated like green jeans, definitely from the Kriss Kross era. Now that I recall he still has all the same clothes from when we were first married and this is 2 years into the marriage. He had had no need to replace his clothes since he still fit in all of it. He weighs the same he did in high school and not because of some great workout regime or because of his healthy eating (he does not).

His body type has not changed a bit, while mine has endured a pregnancy and a little bit of packing on some pounds. He looked like he could still be 16. My grandmother came over once and told me it was because I did not cook well, because if I had he would constantly be eating my food and that would cause weight gain. Wrong again. He eats all the time. Seriously he would literally eat two dinners. I made dinner for three because he would have dinner with me and then he would eat an hour later, a full meal.

stupid genetics! Even with eating junk and not exercising, he would still score well on his physicals. His cholesterol was always perfect and I was always jealous.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it

Luckily we didn't have a big wedding with a video camera so that people could not offer advice on film, but that didn't stop people from offering their two cents worth. It got worse as we had children, because the advice was no longer just about us but also about our kids. Some of it was well intended, others were just stupid. Like the never go to bed angry… why is this stupid? Because sometimes he does things that required more than one day of anger and hurt. I did like the advice of pray together every night when you go to sleep, it's a little hard to be asking God to put vengeance on him while he's beside me.

There is one piece of advice I wish we would have never gotten. During our newlywed years he worshipped me. His life revolved around me and my life revolved around him. He felt his job was to make me happy and I felt my job was to keep him satisfied. It worked perfect for us. I enjoyed the attention and he enjoyed being taken care of. He put me on a pedal stool. One day someone seeing how he was at my beck and call, which he actually enjoyed, someone asked him why he did those things. He answered about being my all and wanting to keep me happy. The man then told him that he could not put me on a pedestal like that because then I would fall. If he kept me on the ground then I would just trip and not fall.

It was advice we both thought about. It sounded true especially because it was coming from someone who had been married much longer than us. I think that day he stopped putting me on a pedal stool and I hadn't minded because well these were "wise" words. It changed our relationship, not saying badly it just changed it, not better. Looking back though I think we should have stayed with, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Presents

I have always enjoyed my birthday because I love receiving presents. One year I remember inviting everyone I knew to a party at my house in hopes of more presents. I was one of those kids that would unwrap the christmas presents before christmas and then wrap them back up so no one would notice. I always expect presents from my parents but being married I knew I would now get presents from my husband. And he never disappointed. He was great at gift giving. He always went overboard on presents and I certainly did not mind.

His birthday was coming up and I was trying to figure out what to get him. He liked clothes so I picked out an outfit for him, I think I also bought shoes for him. I had made his favorite dinner and was waiting for him to come home. He walked in and had an armful of things in his hands. I asked him what that was and he said they were presents, did they throw him a party at work and forget to invite me? Then he said they were for me for his birthday. What?!?! I get presents on his birthday? I like this. He then told me the best present I could get him was my happiness and he knew how happy I would be unwrapping all this.

I like his language of love!

going out to eat

After 2 years of marriage we thought we should have learned each others quirks and likes and dislikes. we had arranged for a babysitter because we were having a date night. nothing extravagant just a dinner and a movie. It was still early so we decided to do the movie first and then dinner. we saw some action film and then it was off to eat.

He drove and asked where I wanted to go, I had no preference so he drove to something he considered "out to eat", McDonalds. "This is not 'out to eat' in my book, there needs to be something of an atmosphere with menus that are handed to you and someone who brings you your food", I said to him.
"Oh, well we can go to Carls Jr, where they give you a table number and bring you the food." He obviously was not getting it.
"I want to go somewhere with a waiter and steak and mashed potatoes."
"Even though you're hungry now you want to go wait somewhere to get seated, then wait for a person to come take our order, and then wait again for our food. So you're saying I might not get to eat for another hour?"
"You are exaggerating, I just don't want to eat something you have quite often. I would rather have something made to my preference."
"then ask for extra pickles or no mayo."

I was getting nowhere. I think I had to let him win this one. " I'll a #2  with sprite."

Monopoly

I love playing games. It is one of my favorite pastimes. I would play solitaire or I would buy puzzle books and spend my time doing them. We would often play Gin Rummy at night or we learned a 2 man spades that we would modify the rules just to make it interesting. I would often ask him to play a game with me. I was very good at games.

We tried playing monopoly one day. I knew that in general I made savvy business decisions in Monopoly. I knew how to negotiate to get what I needed and then built up the property in order to maximize my profits. I knew I knew I was not the best  monopoly player but I could handle my own, but for some strange reason I was getting beat quite badly. Where I hadn't made a monopoly yet he had about two and they were both outfitted with hotels. I didn't think my dice rolls were that bad. He continued to just demolish me in monopoly. I could not understand it, perhaps it was just an off day for me.

 We played the following night again. He was pretty confident and smug. Again as the game took off I was on the losing the end. This is not normal for me so I started to analyze my movements and his. Then I noticed that he was spending a lot more than he was receiving from rent. I started to keep a mental tab on his money, finally I confronted him about the discrepancy. He said I was being paranoid and that he was just a better player. Then I saw it so slightly out of his pocket, and orange piece of paper. Aha he was caught red handed! That's when I realized the man was uber competitive. He apparently had been taking 500's slowly but surely from the bank and hiding them in his pocket. Then taking one out when the need called for it. Cheater!

Easter

We were so excited for the baby's first easter. Our city hosted a easter egg hunt at the park and we got her all dressed and bought her a basket. The hunt was divided into different age catagories. we would be part of the 2 and under group. Seemed a little unfair to me. Our child had just mastered standing up compared to little boys that were already running sprints. They said they would allow the children under 1 to go first.

The whistle sounded and off she went. She had no idea what to do. She could barely walk with her basket. He pointed to an egg and then tried to coax her towards it. There was one rule, and that was that parents could not touch the eggs. He pointed I encouraged. Then they released the 2 years olds. This kid ran up to the egg and took it! We pointed to another egg. this time he stood around it almost like protecting it. I grabbed her hand and dragged her to the egg. She picked it up. I don't know why but we felt like we had just accomplished something.

we pointed to another egg hoping she would understand the idea. She looked at her egg, she looked at the other egg and then just plopped down. She was satisfied with her one accomplishment, we were not. We literally picked her up and plopped her in front of another egg. we looked ridiculous. we were doing all the running around and she just plopped. we ended with 6 eggs. We were proud of ourselves.

Daddy's little girl

Our daughter was growing up so fast. I was her #1 caretaker so therefore her #1 instructor. I bathed her, fed her and did all the things I, as a mommy, should do. She had decided that she wanted to try to stand up. this was a little surprising considering that she never really did the crawling stage. I was excited for this and wanted to help her along. when she would stand up I would help her walk to her destination. We had a routine going and then I thought it was time to up the ante. I would stand her up and then move a couple of feet away and would encourage her to walk towards me. we had been trying for about 2 weeks. She would try to make that first step and then she would fall to the ground. One day her and I were practicing when he came home from work. She was standing trying to step towards me. She heard the door, turned towards it and then ran to her daddy. Ok maybe not ran but I felt like she was running away from me.

He picked her up and was very excited to see her knew accomplishment. I ran to the bedroom in tears. He came into the room confused why I was crying. I at that moment felt that I had been picked over. I felt that there was a choice and it wasn't me. Why was it that when I worked so hard toward something he got to experience the fruits of my labors.

"what's wrong, he asked"
"that is the first time she walks, and it was towards you. I've been practicing with her all week and she has yet to take a step towards me, but she just ran to you."
"She did not run."
"I felt like she did. It's the first word thing all over again. I practiced sounds with her for so long, trying to master the mmmm sound, we never even explored the deh sound but yet she said Dada first."
"I'm sorry. We can try it again and pretend the first one didn't count."

We went to the living room with the baby. we were about 3 feet apart. He stood her up and encouraged her to walk towards me, she tried and failed. I picked her up and turned her towards dad and once again she sprinted. He gave me a sympathetic look and mouthed the words I'm sorry all while being excited for her.

not teenagers

Something I don't think either one of us figured out was how to transform into Adults. We still felt like kids playing house. We didn't feel grown since at this point barely in our 20's. It was even harder as we were confused for teenagers often. We  got stares as we went shopping or questions about how it felt to have to get married because I was pregnant. These questions often made me upset for their rudeness and nosiness. I would quickly point that she was born in 96 and we were married 13 months prior in 95.

One time we were at the mall and he liked to have the baby in one of those forward facing pouches. He felt they were more personal than a stroller. This lady came up to us and said she felt sorry for us kids and offered to buy us a stroller. He fortunately was able to handle the questions and rudeness better than I could and declined the offer and told her we had a stroller at home and chose not to use it.

I think the realization of this adult transformation was when we would be at home. We had no rules, no bedtimes, no parent to answer to and we were still doing the things adults would usually do like going to bed at a reasonable hour, or doing chores to keep the place sanitary. we paid the bills and were on a budget things my parents would do. Somehow it was inevitable that as I lived the life of a grown up that I would become one, but I still feel like a kid playing house sometimes.

I'm ready to go

What is it taking him so long, I was thinking. We need to be there in 15 minutes and it's a 15 minute drive, why isn't he ready to go yet. I was sitting in the living room with the baby. we were both dressed with our hair done and I had makeup on. I had eaten breakfast and had fed the child also, he only has to get himself ready to go, so why wasn't he ready to go. "What are you doing", I yell. He comes out to the living room with his tie hung around his neck, no shoes on, and a toothbrush in his mouth. UGH!

I hate being late to anything. I feel that being on time is also late, so therefore I must be early. I like to leave myself time for just in case things like traffic and time to park. He liked to make a late dramatic entrance. I use to sit in the car and wait for him, thinking that perhaps it would get him more anxious to leave and he would hurry himself up, but I found that all it did was get me more upset. So now I just wait inside where it's more comfortable.

"Are you ready to leave", I ask him knowing the response I will get, but perhaps he will understand that I am using my I am annoyed with you voice.
 "i'm brushing my teeth", he says.
"well, I'm ready to go", I answer.
Another thing about me, when I say  I am ready to go, I mean that that at instance I am ready to go, that I want everyone to be walking out the door at that moment.
"Just one minute."

At this moment it is now 10 minutes 'til we need to be there. "I'm walking out the door, I'm gonna strap the baby in the car seat."
" I'll meet you downstairs in a second," he answers.

Just when I finish strapping her in, he comes downstairs. We finally leave and he drives like a maniac because he knows that I feel we are late and I think he wants to prove me wrong. We get there right on time, which like i said before, I find we are late. I do not say a word because I do not want to walk into church with a scowl. I guess I should have just been happy we got there alive the way he drives.

Needs of the Navy

It was that time again to play Station roulette. He called his detailer up and was given a couple of choices on where his next duty station could be. All of them were on ships in San Diego. We weren't to fond of that, I was ready for a change in scenery and he was ready for it too. He asked about other obscure places and he was told of a small island in the middle of the indian ocean. It would be shore duty but considered sea duty, and it would be only for a year, it would be unaccompanied, meaning his family could not go with him, but he would have choice of orders when he returned.

We talked it over. This was a big decision for us. could we handle being apart for so long. He would miss us but he would also miss our daughters growing up. He would miss one whole year of her life, and since she was one at the time it would essentially be half her life. There were pros and cons to either decision, a ship would mean he would leave also but for less time and he would leave more than once and frequently depending on the needs of the navy. Either scenario was a big change from having him come home every night.

We decided that we could save money if I went to live with my parents while he was gone. I was worried about being lonely and Bored, but being with my parents allowed me to have  that adult conversation I so craved. I would have my sister nearby and some of my high school friends still lived in the area. It would work out. He would be shipping out in August to go to Diego Garcia. It was still a couple of months away but the count down was painful. the decision was made and that was that. We had several people question our choice and even declare that we were making a mistake. Luckily they they had no say in the process and therefore did not understand and did not matter.

I wanted to support him in our decision but I knew that I would feel abandoned. I knew that I would miss him, I knew that when the baby was ornery I would blame him, I knew that I'd be angry at him, I knew that it would be hard, I knew that I would miss his companionship. I told myself that I knew what I was getting myself into when we married, but that didn't make it any easier.  The decision was made and set and now it was just learning how to deal with it.

do you want some of my salad?

I had ordered a salad and he had ordered a jumbo jack. I was happy with  my salad but his Jumbo Jack looked so yummy. "Do you want some of my salad," I asked.
"No, I'm good thank you."
"Are you sure you don't want some of my salad?"
"I'm fine, but thanks for offering."
" Are you sure you don't want some salad."
"No, why do you keep asking"
"I thought you would be polite and reciprocate the question."
"Oh did you want some of my burger?"
"why yes, thanks for asking."
"If you wanted some of my burger why didn't you just ask""
"I did, I asked you if you wanted some of mine."

So that began our sharing question, it was a way to not seem greedy and to feel like we were sharing. I think it gave both of us the opportunity to be kind to one another. Unfortunately one of us would always abuse the situation and ask things like… did you want some of my peas or did  you want some of my artichokes in an effort to get some of the burger or burrito. I'll admit it was usually me.

I'm sorry

How did we get to where we were? How was it possible to hate so many things about him? how could his very breathing bother me to death. I was at a loss of how we could be in the same home and not speak. How is it that we did not understand each other. I had a horrible habit of getting upset and shutting down, he had a horrible habit of being wrong.

I sat in the living room alone, he sat in the bedroom listening to music. The baby was asleep and I was grateful for that. What was my next step? It wasn't that easy to say I wanted to leave anymore, I couldn't just wake up the baby and walk out. Where would I go, I could not go home and tell mom and dad I failed at something.

"Can we talk, " he comes out and asks.
"What", I answer.
"I don't want to fight anymore."
"Neither do I and if you just stop being stupid, things like this wouldn't happen."
"you're right and I'm sorry"
"that's nice, I wish you would just say you love me."
"I did, that's what I mean when I say sorry."
"No! Sorry does not mean I love you"
"It does when I say it"
"No it doesn't, see here you are again doing stupid things again."
"I love you."
"I love you."

"you never help me clean the house, " I yell.
"I work all day I thought that cleaning was your job," he answers.
"so I take care of the baby, cook, go grocery shopping, clean versus you just go to work? It doesn't seem fair"
" I want to have time to relax when I get home."

Someone knocks on the door. "they're here" I yell at the back room. My tears magically disappear my genuine smile appears, he comes out of the back room and stands behind me as I open the door. No matter all the arguing, we portrayed that perfect family. we could hide all the bickering and knew how not to air our dirty laundry in public.

We once had a family move away from our congregation and state to us how much they looked up to us because we never fought and were always happy and satisfied with each. We could not keep the laughter in. They didn't understand what was so funny till I explained how we always fought but knew how to put our fresh faces on and our best foot forward. I think sometimes we even believed the facade because when our friends would leave we wouldn't continue our conflict, sometimes we would forget about them all together.

Boy scouts

In San diego, he worked with the Boy Scouts. He would occasionally have them over for a sleep out or would drive everyone home from the activities. I didn't mind much. Once a week he got together with these boys and do whatever boys do during these meetings.

I always wanted him to take vacation time, he always stated he couldn't for one reason or another. He would say that he didn't have enough days or that he was saving them for something special or that he could get away from work. I always accepted him excuses but not happily. One day he came home from Boy Scouts to tell me that he was going on a week long campout with the boys and would be using 5 days of vacation days to do so.

"how come you can take vacation with the boys and not when I ask you to?", I asked
"this isn't vacation honey this is more like an obligation, I need to be with this kids."
"And why are you going, can't someone else go?"
"There needs to be certain ratio of adults to kids and there are other people going, but i still need to go."
"well I'm not happy"
"Yes honey I know"

Did he understand that my whole day was spent waiting for him to come home? Did he know that I did not get adult conversation until he got home and how stressed I was taking care of our precious child? I was going to be bored and lonely, there was only so much void the TV could take up. I called my mom, "Mom can you pick me up for the week, I'm bored."

My mom being the great person that she was drove down 2 hours to come pick me up and  I was happy.

Obstacle of decisions

Our manager at our apartments told us of another unit that was open around the corner that was twice as big our current apartment and would only raise our rent about $50. we thought it could work and said yes. Our new apartment had a washer and  dryer and a balcony in one of the rooms. Both rooms were huge and the living space was very open and inviting. It was on the 2nd floor with the garage being on the first floor. I thought this was great until I went grocery shopping.

At our previous apartment, our parking space had been right in front of our apartment so unloading groceries was a simple task. Now it became an obstacle of decisions. The first decision to make was, do I leave the child unattended in the house while I walk up and back bringing the groceries inside or do I leave her unattended in the car or do I carry the child back and forth while attempting to balance the bags of groceries ( mind you our grocery store only had paper bags). Do I leave the door wide open and hope no one invades my home or do I fumble with the keys every time.

I finally came up with the perfect solution, go grocery shopping when he's home and then take the baby upstairs and stay with her and let him do all the work. I'm a genius :)

Sleep

Every saturday morning my mom would wake up early, never after 730 am and would begin to clean. She would play her music loudly and did not care about our sleeping preference. She did not care whether we had gone out the previous night or didn't have an activity til the afternoon. She was up and felt the whole house needed to be up with  her. Saturday mornings were not reserved for sleep, they were for cleaning.

On saturdays I felt that perhaps I needed to take my mothers approach and wake up to clean. Maybe not as early as 730 but definitely before 9am. He liked to use saturday mornings to catch up on all the sleep he felt he had missed all week. This was a source of contention. Saturday mornings I would wake up and then just stare at the ceiling. I would then get bored of that and try to get out of bed. He would rustle and ask me to stay, thinking he was awake and ready to converse with me, I would agree and then a minute later I would hear heavy breathing because he had gone back to sleep. I finally would be able to sneak out of the bed. I would clean and then become resentful because he was still asleep. Finally around noon, sleeping beauty would get up.

I didn't understand how he could sleep so much. Because a couple of hours later he needed a nap. I would complain that he wasn't spending time with me. So he would ask me to lay in the bed with him and nap. How is this spending time together? A rule had to be defined, sleep was not spending time together, we both needed to be aware of each others presence in order for it to count as "together time". He disagreed. He felt that being able to sense one another presence was enough.

Saturdays I would make loud noises to try to wake him up, "accidentally" drop all the pots and pans, slam the door every now and then, put away clothes in the bedroom… he started sleeping with earplugs.

Cleaning

I hated to clean. I hated all the time and effort that I put into cleaning and for it to be quickly ruined. Just because I hated it didn't mean I didn't do it. I was just resentful along the way. I hated how when the laundry was done, there were new clothes in the dirty laundry, how when the dishes were clean someone ate and it needed to be done again, it was a never ending process. Cleaning became one of those things that I felt was not immediate. Our space was livable but I discovered that if I just closed our bedroom door then all the mess could be hidden.

I liked having guests over for any reason. We often hosted game nights in our home and had people over for dinner. I like to put my best foot forward and therefore had to show a clean home. We devised a quick and easy method of cleaning. We called it the 10 second tidy. It was the concept of for 10 minutes we will do this and then move on to the next task for 10 minutes and so on and so forth till the home was clean. It was successful but only when there was a pending visit. I started inviting people over just to have a reason to clean the house.

It was a great system, as long as we knew we were to have visitors. It was that occasional drop in from a friend that would be my demise. If anyone saw how unclean  my house actually was then they might know that I was not perfect.

Music

Music has always defined a time in my life. From the spanish music my mom use to blare while she cleaned on Saturday mornings to  my love of musicals and living in their fantasy. I always wished my life had that mysterious soundtrack that always defined the scene. That music that came out of nowhere but always described what was going on perfectly.

Coming into the marriage I was heavily into Depeche Mode, Erasure, The Cure, REM he came into the marriage heavily into Ice Cube, 2Pac, Biggie, Method Man. I had tolerated his music before but that's because I wanted him to like me. He introduced me to some music that I did end up adopting as my own like Mary J Blige, but I don't think he has ever taken my music as his. When I cleaned I played my music which was fine since he was not home, but I was always home when he played his music. I was inundated with beats and bass and noise. And if that weren't enough he decided to be that soundtrack I had always wanted. He sang around the house all the time. I don't think sang describes it correctly, more like rapped. he is a very animated rapper with hand movements and emphasis. He would define our fights by giving me rap lyrics in the middle of them. Somehow he thought I was into it as much as he was… he was wrong.

I called his music crap and he played it louder. It was annoying. we compromised at some point, he bought a walkman.

For time and all Eternity

On August 3rd 1996 we decided to have a religious ceremony to covenant with God our commitment to each other. We had invited about 50 guests to help share with us this joyous occasion. My mother had made for me a simple wedding dress, nothing too elaborate or fancy. This was a happy day for me. I had been taught that this is what I should be working towards for most of my religious life and felt that I had finally met that accomplishment.

We were in one of the rooms under the spire. It had stain glass windows and a huge chandelier hanging over the alter. It was an overcast day. We kneeled at the alter and looked at each other. I could see my reflection in his eyes. I could see the life that we wanted to have. I could see our future as I gazed at him. The ceremony was performed and it was perfect. It was exactly what I had wanted when we first married.  Then our daughter was brought into the room. She looked beautiful. I had put her in a beautiful white dress to match mommy. When she was laid upon the alter to be sealed to us, she looked at us and smiled. All of a sudden the sun shone through the stain glass windows, hit the chandelier and lit up the room instantly.

She didn't cry, she was perfect. At the end of the ceremony we greeted our guests as they left the room. I remember being  happy and beaming at the commitment we had made and knew that we would fulfill it. I remember thinking that all the arguments were behind us now, that it would be smooth sailing from now on. I loved him and had expressed it as we were sealed as a family. And that should be enough.

San Diego Temple

perfect for me

We had started taken a class at our local religious institute. the class was called celestial marriage and was suppose to prepare you for when you find a mate. We were the only married couple taking class. we learned a couple of things that probably would have been helpful before the marriage. We learned on how important communication was in a partnership and how lack of communication meant two entirely different things to two different people. We learned how important it was to not walk away in the middle of an argument, (we were both guilty of that), and we learned that though we were a couple we did not need to always do things together, we needed our own outlet.

Our favorite story from class was about a couple having dinner. They are eating dinner in silence as he is inhaling the food. She is thinking that he can't stand the food and is going under the notion that if you can't say anything nice then don't say anything at all. She feels he is eating quickly so that the experience may be over quicker. Jump to him and he is thinking "Can't she tell how much I love this food by the way I am wolfing it down." It's all a matter of perspective.

That probably was the first time we realized we had a communication problem. we had both been under the notion that our view was correct under all circumstances. We were both under the guise that we were always right. We developed a new plan on communication. Instead of blowing up when either one of us felt misunderstood we needed to convey our feeling and acknowledge the other persons feelings. I wish I could say that we were perfect after that but not so.

The most important thing we learned was how being perfect was an impossible thing. That when I compared our relationship to my parents we were going to fall short, simply because they had 20 years of practice. I learned that just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder so is perfection. I needed not to look at what others deemed as important in a spouse or relationship, but more of what i saw as perfect, and that was he him. I was perfect for him and he was perfect for me.

I wanna go home

'I want to go home," I cried. It had been one week and I didn't think I could handle it anymore. I was tired of being judged and criticized and put on display and being dragged around as I spoke to no one, knew no one and felt alone.
"we can't leave" he answered "We've only been here a week and if you can deal with that you can deal with another week".
"that's the thing, I can't deal with this. I am done and want to leave. Can we at least stay at a hotel?'
"I can't do that to my mother it would hurt her feelings".
"What about my feelings, don't they matter. Shouldn't they matter more? "
"They do matter, but these are my parents and friends, I want to spend time with them."
""But I'm tired of being taken to people's homes that I do not know and just sit there and listen to you two reminisce."
"You could stay at the house, while I visit my friends."
"So you want me to stay at your house with your parents whom I am done with instead of sitting in your friends homes being ignored. Where do I win?"

He called his cousins and asked them to entertain me that night. He asked his mom to watch the baby. At least he was trying. I went out with two of his cousins who were around my age. We had fun. we went shopping, went to a bike fest where we met Shaq. Then we went to a club waiting to catch another glimpse of him. We ended the night with what apparently is the hot spot after hours… Walmart. Sure enough at 3 am in the morning, roaming around Walmart are a bunch of people in clubbing clothes not wanting to go home.

This all helped ease my mind and actually helped me enjoy the rest of week, though it wasn't an easy week. I counted down the hours till I was back in my house. The 2nd week ended and we were back on a plane to California. North Carolina was nice but I was more than happy to be back home.

North Carolina

The baby had just gotten her 2 month shots and we were ready to introduce her to his family. I had never met his family so this was going to be a very nervous trip for me. We had been married for about 1 year and four months and I had spoken to my mother in law on the phone but it's not the same. The little bit that I knew about her was very different from my family. She liked to talk and was very opinionated and voiced it with no regards. The little things she knew about me, she knew I was hispanic and had married her son. And I don't know if either one of those were positives.

I have never been to North Carolina, or the south for that matter. We landed and his parents were there to pick us up. We all hugged and perpetuated the family concept. As we were driving from the airport to his parents home I saw a deer just hopping along the side of the road. I had just fallen in love with North Carolina. It was beautiful, there were big full trees everywhere. Homes were set on the backside of the lots which gave the properties huge driveways and front yards that were littered with trees and green grass. We traveled mostly 2 lane highways and there was no traffic. Big difference from my home in California.

When we got to their home, we proceeded to sit and talk. She was asking me about my family and my upbringing. My father in law was a very quiet man and preferred to sit and listen. As we spoke different family members would casually stop by to see the new girl (that was me). They wouldn't stay long but I made the acquaintance of so many aunts and cousins that I couldn't keep track. I felt like a specimen on display.

At the end of day one, he looked pleased with himself and he gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for enduring all that."
"Of course honey, we're family," I answered. This was day one of fourteen, I was exhausted. Hopefully the rest of the week would be more relaxing.

cinnamon spaghetti loaf

I had to take the baby in for her 2 month appointment and he decided that he would make dinner since I would not have time after the appointment. We were having guests over for dinner that night and he thought that he would help, mind you he never cooked dinner for us … NEVER. I thought that the easiest thing for him to make was spaghetti. I made him simple instructions, boil the noodles, drain noodles, cook meat, add lawry's  seasoning salt, open a jar of sauce and add to meat, then add noodles.

He being the master chef that he was had decided to ad-lib a bit. He didn't like the noodles mixed with the sauce so he wanted to add the sauce over the noodles, and he thought he would experiment with my spices. What came out was a total disaster. First he drained the noodles, didn't rinse and then let it sit, while he cooked the meat. He then started adding oregano, salt, and CINNAMON. I still was not home when our guest arrived.

Apparently the noodles, because they had not been rinsed, had melded into one giant loaf. He had to slice off pieces for our guests and then added the over spiced sauce. When I got home I asked if he had made a pie because the smell of the cinnamon was overwhelming. He then told me something went wrong and he couldn't figure out what it was. He served me a slice of spaghetti loaf with his sauce. Being the great wife that I was I decided to just swallow the food. After one bite I refused to eat anymore. "what would possess you to add cinnamon?" I asked.
"i don't know, it was in your cupboard and I thought it would be interesting."
"Honey you're not a professional,please do not try to ad-lib."

Nevertheless I never asked him to make spaghetti again,

Meat and Potatoes

One night after our discussion on what a proper meal should consist of. He exclaimed that if I made meat and potatoes for dinner for the duration of our marriage, he would be happy. It did not matter how the potatoes were fixed or what type of meat. So I took that as an outline of what make.

One day I called him at work to see how things were going. I then told him that for dinner that night we were having steak and mashed potatoes for dinner. This was before I started buying boxed potatoes so the mashed potatoes were fresh and home made with butter and milk. He sounded pleased and then told me he'd meet me at home at 430. At 4 o'clock I set the table and added a small centerpiece. I had made red Kool aid the way he liked it, with the sugar undissolved at the bottom.

430 came and went and he wasn't home, not a big deal. He walked in the door at 5 o'clock with a bag of Wienerschnitzel. This did not make me happy in the least. he walked in, saw the table, and then reality struck him. "We could have the meat and potatoes for tomorrow since I forgot and bought dinner instead." So this was his excuse.

"I will be having dinner if you would like to join me", I exclaimed.
"I forgot you made dinner,  I'm sorry", he answered.
"No you did not forget, you just didn't listen, I listen to you because look what we are having for dinner, meat and potatoes. you just ignored whatever came out of my mouth"
"I did listen, I just forgot. I was trying to make things easier for you by bringing dinner. I'm sorry"
" Whatever"

I had made such a nice dinner and now he had ruined it with his fast-food. I went to my room and cried. I wondered how it was that he was so stupid to have forgotten something that was told to him hours ago. Did he listen to me when I spoke, did my actions matter to him, did my feelings matter, Did I matter. Somehow I equated this incident to our relationship. He not remembering about dinner was equivalent to the way he felt about me, he did not remember me. I felt like the marriage was hopeless and doomed.

  He asked me to come out of my room. I walked out and he had finished serving the food on the table and was sitting down ready to eat. I sat down and asked "where's the bag of food?"
"In the fridge" he answered.
"I'm still not happy."
"I know."
We sat and ate dinner in silence.

Platypus man

When we didn't have cable and our television still a fine tune dial, to get rid of the fuzzy on the screen, we were bound by our choices in Television. Our Tv did not pick up every basic channel. We had PBS, i station in Spanish, NBC, UPN and depending on where we were standing we sometimes got KCAL. I was able to watch Days of our lives during the day and even one or two talk shows and some cartoons during the weekend, but the highlight of our Television viewing came in the form of a show on UPN, Platypus man.

Platypus man was a show about a man on a cooking show and how he equated cooking to life. We would tell people about how much we loved the show and we were often faced with blank stares. We didn't have many choices on shows so perhaps with our choices this was the lesser of two evils. We found it witty and smart. The first season had ended and we were looking forward to now having cable TV we would be able to watch it with a much clearer picture. We waited and it didn't make the fall line up, maybe it would be a mid show replacement. Never happened. Little did we know it had been cancelled because it was a stupid show and people with more choices chose something better.

Goodbye platypus Man the first show to teach me not to get too attached to shows because not everyone has my same great taste in media.

first mothers day

It was exciting I had entered a new reason to receive gifts, mothers day. I felt special with my little girl who would call me mom in the kindest way possible. The dreams I had for this child, I think first and foremost, are not to be like me. She needed to be obedient and confident and strong and athletic and beautiful. I wanted the moon the for her. I felt like I had the ability to mold this little mini me.

My first mothers day started with breakfast in bed made by him. A little confession here. He is not the best cook, so I don't know if it's a present or a threat. The eggs were scramble and a little over cooked, the pancakes were a little undercooked and in noway resembled a circle of any type. It was way too much milk. I smiled, thanked him and ate my healthy breakfast.

Next he gave me my presents,  a robe, underwear, a mixer, shorts, and a gift certificate to get my hair done. There was so much. I was happy. Next we called our mothers to share this day with. I felt special. I had crossed into a new category, a mother. Wow it was a lot to handle. The best moment was when at church they asked all the mothers to stand up, that was me! I stood and waited till I got handed a rose for mothers day. This was the first of many to come and I couldn't wait for next year.

and then she smiled at me

My grandma had come over to stay with us to help me out with our baby. It was easy at first. The baby didn't do much.She cried occasionally but for the most part she was easy enough. My grandma liked holding the baby and cooing with her. I on the other hand was at a loss. How do I play with a baby. I had no idea what to do with her. He came home from work one day and I was crying. "I don't know how to play with the baby", I stated. He looked at me with sympathy and said "Honey she's only a week old you don't have to play with her."

She was a good child for the most part. She ate, slept and pooped like every other normal child. We even got down to a routine where in the mornings he would get up to go to work and change her diaper, bring her in to feed me and then her and I would go back to sleep. My grandma went back to my parents home and I was left with her alone. It was lonely. I spoke to her as she didn't respond. Some how I felt it wasn't any different from when I was home alone except that I had to care for her the little time she was awake. I was alone and miserable. Added to that he had taken a 2nd job that took him away most evenings.

I was miserable. Here I was expecting motherly instinct to take over and all I felt was what do I do with her. I was unaware that I would become a servant to a newborn child. Why wasn't this as romantic as it looks on TV. I played with her but she didn't play back. We would cry together. I felt I was failing. She was beautiful and 100% dependent on me and I didn't know how not to feel like a servant.

One day as I was holding her trying to calm her down and get her to sleep she looked up at me and then she smiled…. she melted my heart and I fell in love once again and I knew everything would be fine.