Posts Tagged ‘marriage’


November 8, 2010

My fb status last night: Existere Awesome has cracked 11,000 words. She’s well into the second decade of her nano novel.

TMD’s comment: Yay!

My comment:
You are the best wife I ever had, TMD.

Fast forward to a couple of hours later. I’ve just come into the lounge for something.

Me: I left you a little message on my fb status!

I know, I saw it. That’s why I came in to say hi to you earlier. That was really nice.

Me: I didn’t say it to be nice, I said it because it’s true.


Me: Though technically, I could hate you and it would still be true.


Me: I smell a blog post!!

Am I being selfish? I think I am just sad.

November 26, 2009

This has been a bad week, and so far it’s been a terrible day.

Things kicked off when I was working on GUGS. I went back and read some of my old blog that talked about working at camp, just to see what sort of gems I had hidden there. I unearthed something awful: entry after entry about how our marriage was deteriorating in the summer of 2002. That was a shitty, fucked up summer. TMD had always picked work before family from the start of things, and that summer was the ultimate in painful confusion. We came very close to ending things. We got through it, though, and that’s what counts.

But rereading all of that? Wow.

I remember being so angry when I was writing, my fingers pounding the keyboard. Now I don’t see anger when I read those entries, I see lots and lots of hurt. I’ve always been one to go all hard and angry when I am hurting.

So. That was just this past weekend that I read that stuff again. It was sort of shocking, particularly because we have the happiest marriage I could dream of. And things have only gotten better since the babies.

But Monday night TMD was really late home from work. I couldn’t get too upset about this because her work involves very vulnerable young people, and this was sort of an emergency situation. Then came Tuesday. She told me she had a meeting scheduled that would go half an hour later than usual. When that time plus another 25 minutes passed, I rang her just to see if she was on her way home. She said she was only just leaving work. I let loose some sort of rageful sigh and hung up.

When she was home, I escaped into the bathroom….but not before saying, ‘Do you have an excuse tonight? Well, fuck you.’ I know. Any little blogger crush you have on me is fading fast at this point.

Last night was fine, except I didn’t even want to talk to her.

All of these things are isolated incidents that happened to happen in a bad week. Why bad? Here is the meat of it, the bit you could have sliced directly to: this country does not celebrate a well known holiday. My home country does. This morning, people all over that country are waking up to a long weekend with their families.

This morning, I woke up knowing that TMD was working until 9 pm tonight, even though she knew it was this particular holiday and it was important to me. Now, working that late any night would bug me. By about 5 in the afternoon, my SPD is kicking into high gear and I’m in quite a bit of pain. And, I LOVE MY CHILDREN, but no matter how great our day has been, they are getting a bit rambunctious by about 5:30. Yesterday was an extra dollop because they wanted to eat at the same times and there was no appeasing them. So, you see, my mommy nerves are getting a bit wound up.

Plus I just miss my wife. I watch the clock in the afternoons, looking forward to the time I hear her keys in the door.

I am pissed she is working tonight. Yesterday I realised what I really want is her to not be working today or tomorrow; I want to establish traditions. We never really made a big deal of this holiday before. We are both veggies, so our traditional turkey day meal involves copious amounts of Indian food. And perhaps this potato and onion thing I excel at.

Growing up, this holiday wasn’t a big deal to my family either – but then, ‘family’ wasn’t a big deal to my family. Everyone was always screaming at each other, or ignoring each other, and having to sit around the table for dinner was usually quite a painful experience. I wanted this to be different for my kids.

TMD’s dad just called and left a message wishing me a happy day. He said he knew I was far away from my home country and my family, and he said he bet I was homesick on this days like this. He gets it, why doesn’t she?!?

I don’t know what she can do to make this better. I told her over a month ago how important this day was to me, and she still never changed her plans to work so late. I know she feels trapped into it. I know she just wants to do a good job at work. I know in another two months or so I’ll be getting no pay, and that she is the main provider for our house.

I know it, and I’m still hurt to be spending the most family of family holidays as a threesome rather than a foursome. I hate knowing that I have Crazy Woman Mind, and that every future year on this holiday I will be reminded that she fucking was absent for Coconut and Snort’s first one. (There, the crush died all the way, didn’t it.)

I am hurt, angry, hurt. Hurt.

And hurt some more.

She tries so hard to be so sweet, and I feel like it doesn’t matter because I have been sticking-power-mad all week, and there are no signs of these thunderclouds breaking any time soon. The last time I was this sort of mad was in that bad, bad summer of 2002. I generally don’t get upset about shit. We also very very very rarely fight, if ever.

This morning we were both screaming at each other. She then fed Coconut while weeping, while I sat on the edge of the bed wanting to isolate myself from her. She ripped up a letter she wrote me (which Coconut watched me tape back together with interest, as I explained to her the intricacies of letter surgery), and left a turkey day letter/pictures from the babies.

Christ. I think Snort just pooped. Neither kid has pooped in days, so there is going to be some ass explosion, bouncy chair staining, poop pants today. *sigh*

I am lonely on this day when I should be all cosy and chilled. I have to try to relax so at least the babies can have a good day.

23 weeks pregnant – twin bump pictures! Also I am hosting baby kickboxing tournaments at present.

May 2, 2009

25 April – 22 weeks 4 days preggo with the twinnie eggos. (Also no stretch marks at this point!)


I know this isn’t the most anonymous of pictures, and therefore I am breaking my own rules, but I thought I needed to share that every single time TMD takes bump pictures, I end up with terrible sneezing. I have to lean over and really brace myself, making unattractive grimaces, in order to minimise pain and pissing myself!!


Baby bump a dump. The day I wore this shirt is also the day that I got to ride in a motorised wheelchair around a store. I am sorry I do not have a headless picture of  that shot, because I enjoy it. If you are my facebook friend, it’s now my profile picture. If you are NOT my facebook friend but are not a crazy stalker, perhaps at some point we will be friends?!


29 April – 23 weeks 1 day pregnant with the babies.


I don’t know why, but apparently now I am obsessed with sneeze photos. As you can see, this is an action shot – hence the bluriness.


We bought this top very early in pregnancy. TMD suggested I should try it on – and it fits. Shock horror. We originally bought it ’cause I liked the pattern, though it looked completely fucking ridiculous…it was literally like I was wearing a tent. Now it is all screwy fitting – lots of room across the top back, but pretty well fitting across the bump. This top is two sizes too big AND a maternity top.


This is me attempting to convey the width of the bump. I don’t know if it truly comes across.


I have lots of pictures of vitamins, daisies, and my cat, but have decided to show you the view from my latest hospital bed. Above these curtains is the ceiling – painted an apricot orange. The whole thing is like living inside a sunset. Hopefully I’ll never need to spend longer than a night at a time in this particular ward…(not because of the sunset colours, though.)


Last night I took another bath. I’ve gone from thinking they suck to feeling like they are an indispensible part of being alive. I always liked baths, but pregnancy has made them uncomfortable. No longer. My bump is so big it happily sticks out of the water of even a totally full tub, so I don’t feel I have to worry about accidentally poaching the babies.

ANYWAY. It was awesome!

Something I didn’t tell you about the hospital stay was that the first night they listened to the babies with these special monitor things – big round circles they put on your tummy. I just kept saying, ‘How cool! This is just like those baby shows on tv!’ I think the midwife thought I was weird. Moving on…

The babies sounded like they were fucking kickboxing in there. Extreme kicking on both side. And it was SO LOUD because we could hear both at the same time, and the volume was turned way up. The midwife laughed and said we were going to have our hands full when they arrived.

The interesting thing about this is that I discovered a whole new feeling of baby movement. What I had assumed were giant, killer gas bubbles abruptly shifting (you know the feeling, admit it) was actually babies. So now I’ve got low down gas earthquakes, kicks in every direction, and general squirminess. They seem particularly active around 9-11 pm.

So back to bathtime. I was feeling primo kicks, and also saw Mano kick – my bump shot upwards about an inch!! I screamed for TMD (as you do) and she came in. Mano kicked again and there was no mistaking it as us just being hopeful – even pragmatic TMD said she saw the movement. She also put her hand over it and Mano kicked again, so she felt him! Was so happy.

After awhile she left me to my own devices (that means I was reading Make Lemonade for the fiftieth time and loving it). I began to feel the gassy feelings I’d had when the babies were kickboxing at the hospital. I looked down at my stomach and fuck if it wasn’t like some sort of deathmatch going on! Both babies were kicking – saw lots of right-sideways-bump-lurching courtesy of Torre – but with both babies going, my bump was swaying slightly from side to side and sort of slow motion rippling!

I don’t know what they are doing in there, but I don’t know if it looks fun!

I think I’m going to go now as I have to pee so badly I am sure I will leak when I stand up. Add that to the fact that I’m wearing a Fat Lady nightgown my mother sent over (with a maternity belt over the top of it), and you have one hot sexy girlie. I can’t imagine why people aren’t flocking around from neighboring streets, begging to have their picture taken with me.

I look like summer today.

March 20, 2009

Broke my non-vomit streak on Wednesday. Essentially, I’ve been thinking of part of TMD’s birthday gift for awhile now. I am crap with getting her birthday things, though she insists I always do. Well, I ordered it Wednesday and was feeling very proud of myself.

That evening she asked me point blank to buy her the thing I had just ordered that day. The next thing I know, I am sobbing – calling her a Present Ruiner, no less – and then bam. I vomited up the nutritious, delicious, and LARGE dinner we’d just eaten.

I felt like some kind of huge failure. Five full days with no food/acid bath for my teeth, and then I threw up like a fucking champion. Completely filled one bowl and had to negotiate a switch to an empty one partway through.

Still. I am now on Day 2 of a new vomit-free streak. And I just ordered her something else she will never, ever expect – I hope it arrives okay. I am back into being the Birthday Fairy, big time.

GIRL. (Also: no hallumi flair exists. Am I spelling it right?)

March 14, 2009

Back cramps: ouch.  Had ’em for just over a week now. Is this normal?

In other news, I feel human. I ate like a fucking racehorse yesterday, stayed out with friends till after 10 pm (a feat even pre-pregnancy), and woke up this morning ravenous. I am afraid to be too human and healthy, but I had two days this week with NO vomiting. One of those was yesterday – and I admit to heavy nausea throughout the day, but still.

I had a gorgeous hallumi, lettuce, and tomato GIANT sandwich for dinner alongside a portion of chips. This is the biggest meal I have eaten in four months. FOUR FUCKING MONTHS! Prior to pregnancy, I could have eaten this like three time over.


I also feel mildly energetic. Convinient as TMD is near incapacitated with cramps, but then I figure she feels so bad because I feel so good. Our relationship has always been that way. One of us is always around to be strong when the other needs it.

I am afraid to say it, but I am feeling cautiously optimistic! (Could I hedge my bets any  more?)

We also just threw away my Cyclogest (progesterone). This IS progress.

(My mother said, ‘See, everyone told you this would happen after four months. Everything gets better.’ My midwife says, ‘I think getting sick once a day is as good as it is going to get for you. This’ll probably last the whole time now, as it’s twins.’ Both are right, as while ongoing vomit is sad – ongoing LIMITED vomit is happy.)


All the women in my family piss themselves.

March 10, 2009

I am so excited to only be vomiting once a day that I forget that during normal pregnancies, many women barely vomit at all.

The other day while vomiting (sat on the edge of the bed), I peed a little bit. TMD demanded I go to the toilet. She walked backwards, holding the half full vomit bowl, while I leaned over it and clutched at my stomach while heaving. I then promptly emptied my entire bladder down my legs while still standing in the hallway.

My mother admonishes me to do my pee-pee exercises, and perhaps she is right.

Ode to wifey. (ie – should I share this, or will she kill me?)

December 31, 2008

Um, I know what I TOTALLY forgot to tell you people. When I was really, really sick, putting in my vadge bullet (‘pessary’ to civilised people) made me violently ill. I couldn’t stop gagging or being sick. So TMD started putting them in.

And that’s not all. When I had ripped every muscle in my stomach and back, I was weeping on the toilet because I couldn’t reach my ass to wipe. Yes, folks, she wiped my butt. Just the once – but jesus, is that love or is that love??

No matter what they say.

November 28, 2008

Just so I don’t forget one minute of this scintillating TTC drama.

You know I had that dream about the sperm donor? Well, the next night (the one before we got our guy) I had another dream. We got two sperm donor applications. One hand written with a positive pregnancy test taped to it (to prove his fertility?), one giant piece of artwork that had all these philosophical sayings on it. I was pleased with him.

The night after (night three, keep track now!) I had a dream about the egg recipient. She was weird, but not so weird I felt she didn’t deserve my eggs or something.

Night four was last night. I didn’t dream at all, that I remember. Except it turns out that TMD’s boss did – she told TMD she dreamed we’re going to have a little girl.

So that’s it on the dream front. This morning I  made my first IVF ‘friend’ in real life. As TMD pointed out, I don’t ever ever talk to the other women because I’m too busy talking to TMD. This lady was opposite us today in the waiting room, though, and we all launched into discussion. She was envious of our ages, and kept saying she’d waited too long. She said she wished she’d done it when she was younger.

Six failed IUIs, and on her second attempt at IVF. She said she refuses to believe her eggs are too old. She was a lovely old hippy, and all I could think was, ‘I’d give eggs to you.’ I don’t know when I turned all altruistic and stuff, but I DO know that while my crying jags seem to be suppressed since I figured out The Plan, I am in uber pain.

And so tired. Beyond tired.

I am going to leave work soon and end up magically on the same train as TMD. I am probably also going to demand pizza, because TMD keeps saying how amazing I am for doing this for us. Muhahaha. I also have the Thanksgiving card to play.

Yes, that’s a point. About TMD, I mean. The nurse showed us into the office this morning then went to review the scan with the doctor. TMD turned to me and told me how beautiful I was. She said I had appeared glowing and gorgeous through this whole thing, even when I felt mopey. TMD said I looked comfortable in my body, was at a nice weight (she likes the curves, yes she does), and repeated how beautiful I was.

When you find someone who sees your beauty at 8:30 am as you are twisting a piece of paper nervously on your lap, hair all fucked up in a messy ponytail, you have found love. And you know what? I feel beautiful.

I am all bruised and swollen and tired, and I am beautiful.

Thinky thoughts.

October 13, 2008

On my way into work this morning, I was thinking about opportunities I’ve had – and turned down. I think it’s quite natural to look at things you decided against (for whatever reason), and I’m not sure why it popped into my mind.

You may or may not know I was offered the role of Clinical Supervisor for the company I used to be a counsellor for. Their therapists/counsellors work with at-risk young people in the inner city. I’m sure I probably wrote about it here, but not quite sure enough! I think I started to think about this because TMD is considering going for a supervisory role at her job, and this led me to thinking about my past experiences as a supervisor/manager – which were not in the therapy world, though were for a very therapeutic space (camp).

My last year with camp was 2002, after I’d already moved abroad to This New Country. It’s been a long time since I was a proper supervisor, though I acted as a senior member of staff at Day Job on occasion, and I wonder when that role will step back into my life. So of course I thought about the role I’d turned down, and you know what? I didn’t feel bad.

Focusing on TMD, our relationship, and our (hopefully) upcoming pregnancy seems more important right now than wondering when or if I’ll widen my counselling sphere to include other types of work. I’ve been offered teaching roles on training courses, and I wonder what my ‘niche’ will be. Though everyone around me is a family therapist or training to be one, I have no interest in further studying this area. (Did I say ‘further’? I meant ‘ever.’)

I still puzzle – how do I like being a family therapist so much when it’s an area I don’t really care for? I think much of it is down to Joy and Green, and the whole atmosphere that we create with the people we work with. Our office is about as non-officey as you can imagine. We want the people we work with to feel comfortable in this space, for it to really be a shared, creative place. This is what I like, and of course I do love working with the wide spread of people who come through the doors.

I am definitely not a goal-oriented type counsellor – or person, really. I make my crazy list of things to do in an effort to help me ‘control’ my day, but really I am happiest when I’m  bumbling along, trusting that things will just work out.

My list for this week is pretty hardcore. I am going to have to tear myself away from blogging at this instant so that I can manage to cross something off in the next hour.

Love to you all!

‘Pajama drawer has been packed, so it is now going in with bedding and white cardigans.’ -TMD

May 21, 2008

Dear god, the internet has been crazy like a little bitch, which is why I’ve not been here much. While it’s working, I figure I’d better cram in a week’s worth of information while I can. It’s a shame, as I actually have loads to say. Strap in.

1. As of 9:30 am this morning, we have purchased our first home. We just have to go pick up the keys! Today we’re going to be moving up Things That Should Not Get Packed – ie fragile things, pictures, plants, and possibly whatever loose crap we can fit in the car. We officially move on Friday (thanks in advance to Aussie!). We have not yet informed our broadband provider that we are moving – I know, don’t judge – so I’m not sure when I’ll be back online. If I go to work (notice the ‘if’) I’ve got access there, but feel a bit worried about updating my diary on public and shared computers. We’ll see.

2. Weight Loss Wednesday – stayed the same this week. Was the same most of the week, and finally lost a pound. Then came yesterday. I was actually in pain from being hungry, and I’d had waaaaaay more to eat than is strictly necessary. Has anyone ever had this? I’d call it The Hunger. The day ended with a late and heavy meal, which is reflected on the scales this morning. Am I disappointed? Sure. But really, with the way I’ve been packing on the pounds lately, it still seems miraculous to stay the same.

3. Yesterday on the train back from my counselling gig, I was just thinking about how much I love TMD. I have been so happy lately – and I would also say WE have been happier than ever lately. I was thinking that I feel more in love than I did at the beginning, and wasn’t that just unexpected and marvellous. I think there is something to be said for sharing a life together for approaching eight years – and all the good and bad that is contained in that. To be fair, we haven’t had too much bad….but a couple of periods of general not-so-happy-ness.

We’ve seen each other in every possible light, in every possible emotion, and I love her more because of it. I think this is where the happiness comes from. It feels quite unconditional, and I can’t imagine TMD ever purposefully hurting me. I never thought I would have this level of trust for another human being, ever.

4. This is slightly related to #3. One of my adult clients said they don’t think ANY relationship exists where at least one partner has not cheated on the other, and that they doubt it is possible to have a relationship genuinely based on honesty.

I love you, TMD.

5. I’m leaving Day Job, and I got this fantastic email from a young woman I’ve been working with for about three years, maybe a bit longer. One highlight of my job is that I can now read text speak at almost the same speed as normal typing. That aside, she wrote one line that really touched me – ‘Thank you for simply doing your job, but changing my life.’

That is the power of Day Job, and indeed of every job I’ve had. Because I work with people, there is such huge potential to change my own life and help other people change theirs. By just doing what I’m getting paid for – rather spectacularly, though, if I do say so myself – this girl thinks I have changed her life. And she is probably right.

I feel so sad that I will not be able to stay in touch with her. I have really struggled with managing my own emotions about this situation, and have also questioned whether or not to give her my personal email when I know that is TOTALLY inappropriate. So I haven’t done it.

The girl said she hopes she bumps into me on the bus one day, and I have to say I hope so too.


Okay. Can’t think of anything else I really wanted to say at this point, and it’s probably better if I go and join TMD in her packing efforts. I’m hearing a lot of exaggerated sighs, so I suspect my blog time is limited anyway.

Love to you all, on this marvellous Wednesday.