Diary of a MILF in Progress

A day of ups and downs

Yesterday, while I was fighting with the shredder (we're moving to the new buiding soon, and I am purging much of the extraneous paper from my cubicle, most of which contains semi-confidential information), Natalie said, not in a lascivious way, but a possibly complimentary way anyway,
"You look like you're hot."

Then she kind of rolled her eyes and said, "I don't mean 'hot' like Hot, but 'hot' like..." and then seemed like she was frustrated with herself.  "So, are you saying I look good, or that I look as though I'm about to break a sweat?" I laughed.  Being that is was already 85 degrees at 10:00 a.m., but also that I was wearing a camisole with no bra and a sheer blouse, it could go either way, you know?

She laughed, too, saying, "Like at hottie.  That's the hot I meant  to say."

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I had my annual review yesterday afternoon.  My boss actually emailed it to me prior to our meeting, and we had discussed the bulk of it, so all that was left was to see the actual wording of the comments, the numerical rating, and confirmation of the exact amount of my raise and bonus.

The rating was what I expected, I supposed, and the raise is decent.  The comments, however, are seeming more and more condescending as I think about more.  One in particular is sticking in my craw.  The one about "interacting appropriately...given [my] support function."  So, I guess I should be fading into the background and not making eye contact with upper management or other high level attendees during meals and social functions involved with my meetings.

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Work is wicked busy lately.  It's almost time for school to start (for everyone except me, now that the Younger Son is beginning preschool, the Elder Son is in first grade, the Daughter is in fourth, and the Husband has added a first period upperclassmen course to his schedule), so life at home isn't exactly leisurly.  I've gained and lost the same three pounds since May.  I quit smoking after my last lapse and don't want to fall off the wagon again.  Booze and comfort eating will only sabotage my diet.  I think my only stress relief is going to have to be getting laid.  If the Husband doesn't get his act together and treat me a bit nicer in the next month, Casey and I are going to have to pick up where we left off last year once we get to the Fall Conference.

Rememberence of things current

I regret that I've been a bit inattentive lately, but I've been a bit overwhelmed by...

I'm sorry, what was I saying?

Oh, right. Forgetful, distracted and wicked busy. That's what I was talking about. OK, then.

I had a two-day meeting about two weeks ago, which went well but resulted in many, many follow up items. In addition, I am frantically in the midst of planning a three-day meeting with the same group in August, which is not part of the normally scheduled cadre of meetings with this group. Normally, we meet quarterly in person, and a bunch of conference calls as needed in between. Two of the face-to-face meetings are at my office, and two are in conjunction with other conferences (the Fall one during which I get myself overly involved with co-workers, and the Spring one, at which I seem to be able to behave myself). But this August retreat is necessary, and planning for it has been somewhat fluid because of upper management and committee member waffling about the scope and timing of the discussions. Oh, and did I mention that two of my bosses (the one who writes my review and the one who writes hers, one of whom is sane and one of whom is...not so much) have been only sporadically in the office? Yeah, that factors in as well, since much of what I am trying to get accomplished requires their input. Fun stuff.

Mad planning skillz have been necessary in my home life, too. The Daughter has a birthday a few days after my meeting. Do you think The Husband, who is off for the summer as opposed to working fulltime and then some, gave any thought to planning for it? If you said "not a bit, except for getting pissy about the fact that no plans were in place," you get 10 points! Oh, and July 4th- we had plans then, too.
And The Husband's birthday was last week. And although he is well into adulthood, he still expects the world to grind to a halt for him. So calling me at work multiple times during the day to ask where we were going for dinner, even though I asked him for input where he wants to go and he did not give me any. We figured it out, but it took another evening out of my own time.

I have forgotten to take my anti-depressents a number of times recently. When my depression and anxiety kick in, I get forgetful, among other things. Which sort of makes me forget to take medication. oops.

I was very cranky today. And shaky. And suffering from a headache. Which made me realize that it was almost 10:00 a.m. and I had not yet had my breakfast. oops.

There was something else I was going to post about. But I've forgotten what it is.

Happy MILF's Day

Oh, was yesterday Mother's Day? This past weekend was supposed to include some sort of recognition for me? Here were my gifts for Mom's Day:

• The chance to spend quality time with all three children while The Husband played some golf on Sunday morning
• A bonding moment with my mother-in-law, as I finished cleaning the house before she babysat the progeny so that I could get to church on time, since The Husband wasn't home from his chili-tasting contest
• Time to connect with my mother, as she and I helped my sister set the table and clean up after dinner (Sis cooked, since she was the only non-mom female in attendence)
• The Husband refrained from making a smart ass remark about my "Hot Wife" shirt (well, didn't fully refrain, in that he said "Since it's Mother's Day weekend, I won't make a joke about the shirt being false advertising.")

All joking aside, it was a fine Mother's Day. The Daughter made me a card and a cardboard/popsicle stick flower in art class, The Elder Son had a gift bag created by the kindergarten with a spot of tea and a decorated spoon (very cute), and I got lots of hugs and cuddles from The Younger Son, who is still a bit young to be expected to participate. But I do miss the days when people were surprised to find out that I was a mother, based on how I still looked like I was too young/thin/cute to have gone through pregnancy and childbirth.

Love means never having to say "I don't care"

I got a message from our head meeting planner, letting me know that the electronic registration for the September conference will be active soon, and requesting that I begin soliciting responses from my group as soon as possible.

While we fixed dinner together last night (I started the grilling, since The Husband was busy keeping the yard from becoming a jungle, but he took over because the grill is his domain), I approached the subject of his attendance.

"So, what have you decided about coming to Florida for my conference in September?" I asked. "I know you would have to miss the football game on that Sunday, so what's the final verdict?"

"I think I'll have to miss the football game regardless," he answered. "My parents would have been watching the kids if I go out of town, but they will be going to the game."

We reviewed the logistical points about the trip itself, the timing and the impact on his work and whether he would have anyone to golf with while I was in meetings. It's doable, but not ideal, and finally he put the ball in my court.

"It comes down to your decision," he conceded. "If you want me to go, I'll go. If you really don't care, I may as well stay home."

The truth is, I don't care. I'd rather save our travelling for a time when neither of us is working in excess of 12 hours a day. But, based on fifteen years with a man, you figure out what is and is not appropriate to say.

"It's not that have any objection to you going," I replied. "It's just that I would hardly have a chance to spend any time with you while you are there. When we go on a trip together, it's nice to actually be together, not just staying in the same hotel."

And apparently, that was just the right thing to say.

Phew!

Well, my marriage is back to the land of the living, but I am still treading very lightly on monetary issues. Thankfully, the taxes have been filed for this year with no surprises in store, and I have managed to remain quite the penny-pincher when it comes to household expenses.

Well, that may solve the "togetherness" problem

The Husband and I are barely speaking right now. On Monday, we got a letter from the IRS about a screw up on last year's taxes. A screw up that I take full responsibility for, but one that opens up some old wounds. You see, I got myself into some serious debt because of running up bills and trying to take care of them without the Husband knowing about it. And I got further into debt as the money snowballed because of interest and the like. And when he finally found out about it last summer, the revelation was at a tense and awkward time (i.e., during a refinance on the house, right before we were facing a major health situation). And I completely forgot that I had screwed up some of the tax reporting in an effort to slip the information in under his radar last year, so in addition to the repayment of last years overpayment (i.e., we got a refund that was too high, so that amount will be deducted from this year's refund) we also have a year's worth of interest to pay on the extra money.

I suppose that all of the words he shouted at me on Monday night probably drained him of the ability to say anything more than absolutely necessary since then. Since "Good night" and "drive carefully" are not absolutely necessary, I don't hear those. Since "I fed the dog when I woke up, so you don't have to" can be said more succinctly and snippily as "I already did it", that's all I get. As restless as both of us are as we slumber, I didn't think we could manage to go so long with no physical contact at all, but he's managed to avoid touching me at all, no matter how briefly, all week.

I deserve some of the anger. But I don't deserve the accusation that I've reverted right back to the problems and behaviors I had before we sat down in September to work this all out and fix it. I have worked hard to earn back The Husband's trust with how I handle money. I closed all of my credit cards a year ago, and he has access to my credit report so he knows if an account is opened in my name. My paycheck is now deposited directly into an account where he keeps the checkbook, so he sees exactly how much money I am bringing in and how much I spend on my share of the expenses. The only discretionary money I have is when I get paid for my freelance writing or craft work, and he told me six month ago that he doesn't want to take away that freedom. But while my friends are talking about how they need to turn on the A/C because of our recent Spring temperatures, I only need to step into a room with the man who promised to love me for better or worse in order to feel a sufficient chill in the air.

I know I said I needed time for myself, but I didn't anticipate that all those unthinking pecks on the cheek or pats on the shoulder would be so conspicuous when they were absent. I wasn't ready to live in this bubble.

Crap, he wants to spend time with me?!

The Husband is pressuring me to take a babysitter on vacation so that we have more time to "relax" (relax=lay on the beach, etc. without having to actually have an parental responsibilities). When I revisited the reasons why this is probably not a good idea (having to get a different apartment, since our current one is only two bedrooms; additional expense; the fact that he chose to have children, so he needs to suck it up and actually take them in the water or build sandcastles with them or keep an eye on them so they don't run away...) he began to pressure me about having more "alone time" vacations, like the one we took for our anniversary a few years ago. Not necessarily big trips, maybe a weekend away to see a show, or a touristy trip to one of the local historical areas. Then he remembers that I have two out of town meetings every year. And he realizes that, while the Spring meeting is never at a time when it is feasible to take time off, the Fall one may be. And it's going to be in Florida this year! He'd like to go to Florida with me!

I'll be very busy, I warn him. I will be working 14 hour days, most likely. Some of the evenings will be dinners out that he can attend with me, but I will be on-call and not just be unwinding with him. No problem, The Husband, assures me. He is happy to go golfing while I am in meetings or working the registration desk. If I have to work an evening event and he is not included, he will fend for himself.

My mother agrees that accompanying me on my business trip will not be a "grown up vacation" for The Husband and me. That it seems that what he really wants is just a break from having to be a dad and be responsible for someone other than himself. That he may have an unrealistic expectation of how much time we'll get to spend together.

But she does not understand the real reason I do not like this proposal. Only one person is likely to understand, and she is the only one I can speak to about it.
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"Natalie! The Husband wants to come to the meeting in September!"
"NO," she exclaims. "He can't!"
"I know," I reply dejectedly. "He thinks it will be a nice 'vacation' for us. That it will be fun to get to go to the dinners and stuff. That he'll just take his clubs and go golfing while I'm in meetings."
"But...but..." Natalie sputtered, "he...No! Tell him...no, you can't tell him that...Tell him...Oh, shit, I don't know."
"I know. I'm totally fine with taking a trip with him. But does he have to come to this one?!"
"We have got to talk him out of this," she said.
"Yeah, we seriously do," I agreed.

Because the conference is my time. It happy hour on a much larger scale. It's the hotel bar and the staff office and the foxhole mentality of setting up and running meetings and a booth and networking events. Work Dana is mingling and schmoozing, she's witty and flirty and poised. Wife Dana has school pictures in her wallet and rarely curses and stays away from hard liquor. She's got stretch marks under that business suit and she buys "Mom went to Florida and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" t-shirts.

Wife Dana doesn't hang out with the Marketing boys.

Newlyweds, a decade later

It was at the bottom of the drawer, since it's been awhile since my nightime attire was something other than t-shirts, yoga pants, or flannel. But the nightgown, the same one I wore on my wedding night, fit.

Things were nice last night, they were good and fun and just the way they always were. And we fell asleep with smiles on our faces.

When I woke up this morning, Husband asked me how I was doing. And he smiled again, telling me that he wanted to pick up where we left off. We locked the bedroom door, and resumed, and things were almost at the same conclusion as the night before. But some things are not the same as they always were.

"MOMMY!" came the shout from beyond the door, "MOMMY, DADDY, we need you!" said the Elder Son. "We want to show you how we made the solar system!"

"Da door is stuck," cried the Younger Son. "Open up, pwease. I need a choc-a-chip cookie."

And we put on our robes, and left the bedroom with smiles on our faces.