falling short.

I've been MIA lately. For those of you who actually read my blog, I apologize. Work has been a bit hectic lately and we've been redoing our living room/dining room and trying to get some sleep in between.

On to the title of this post... falling short. This is a sentiment I've been feeling for quite some time, 6 years to be exact (just after my dad died and I felt like the world had come crashing down on me), and while I'm usually pretty good at not letting myself over think this feeling, I've had a lot of trouble doing so lately. When nothing is going right, when you feel like you're trying to do everything possible to live up to these crazy expectations you've set for yourself and you're never quite able to, when you see other people accomplishing their goals and living their dreams (even if you've accomplished some pretty amazing things yourself) you start to think to yourself, why can't I do that, and it becomes difficult to refrain from being hard on yourself, and thinking constantly that you're not good enough and you're always falling short.

So here I sit on my Pottery Barn sectional (I've always wanted one of these because 1. they are the most comfortable things in the world and 2. because I wanted to be able to say that I have a Pottery Barn couch - this is one of those crazy expectations I set for myself, I'm willing to admit, because having one seemed like a right of passage, and I wanted to be in the club - absolutely ridiculous right?) in my running clothes (somehow I mustered enough mental energy to take that step) wondering how I'm going to convince my depressed, over emotional self to go for a run and wondering how to pull myself out of this funk.

What am I doing wrong? Why does it seem like I can never anything right? Does my PB Comfort really make me as happy as I thought it would, especially since it's a lot lighter than what I really wanted (fail). Why does weightloss on my part require eating pickles and celery and working out for an hour everyday - to see a .5lb weight loss at the end of the week and why does it matter how much I weigh? Why do I have to care so much? Why is there something wrong with just about everything in my house? Why is that just when I start to feel good about myself and start to have the feeling that something is finally going right, something goes wrong? Why does it see like in everything I do, I fall short?

On top of all of this, my in-laws are not speaking to me. That is one hell of a long story which I won't bore you with but to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what I did to deserve this treatment especially after being verbally attacked by them and having them question my upbringing. It hasn't been pretty to say the least. It's complicated and hubs and I have been going to counseling to deal with it - that's how difficult it's gotten. This situation obviously wouldn't make anyone feel that great, and has only added to the self-inflicted stress I'm feeling about all aspects of my life.

Why can't I just be happy. I know that no one can be completely happy every day of their life but I would say that I'm unhappy more often than not. I just can't seem to do anything right. It's always almost right, but not quite right. I don't want to be unhappy. I want to enjoy myself, my house, my husband, my friends and my family but that is extremely difficult when you feel like you just don't measure up, you're always falling short.

Thanks for listening (reading). I apologize that my first post in weeks is something so depressing. Hopefully soon I will be able to post pictures of the living room/dining room re-do... that is, if nothing else goes wrong...

this is the year.

This is the year. I can feel it... or I think I can feel it. I'm hoping it's the year. The hubs and I have spoken quite a bit about the B word this past month. He's gotten slightly more comfortable discussing it though I think it's probably overkill for me to bring it up every day. I don't mean to, but it happens. I see an etrade commercial with the talking babies or our neighbors walking their baby around the neighborhood and I can't help but think about what it would be like to have one of our own. A friend of ours just posted belly shots on facebook and another friend went into labor last night. We're babysitting another friends newborn next weekend, I'm attending a baby shower the following weekend, and two of my cousins are pregnant, due around the same time. Needless to say, there are babies everywhere I turn.

This is the year. We're not getting any younger, I know we're not that old to begin with, but we're not getting any younger! I'm ready. I can feel it, mentally and emotionally that is, physically... well, that's another story. I'm not where I hope to be weight-wise (I hope to be 20lbs less when it happens) when I get pregnant knowing how much on average a woman gains when pregnant but I'll get there before it's time to start trying. I'm certainly emotionally ready. In the past I've felt pangs of anxiousness and nervousness at the thought of having a baby and though those emotions will never completely disappear, I've never felt so calm and ready. Sure it's a big change. Sure it's demanding, but I'm ready.

Is a guy ever ready though? Very rarely do I hear someone say that their husband is ready for a baby but they aren't. More often than not, it's the woman pushing for a child and the man constantly resisting. Hubs isn't so much resisting as he is trying to push it off into the unforeseeable future. It doesn't help that his mother continues to state her opinion that we are too young (we are both 27 - she had her first when she was 27...). Sticking to my timeline, we will have been married 2.5 years and we'll both be 28 by the time baby number one arrives. This feels really comfortable to me in that we didn't rush into having a baby (the hubs couldn't rush into anything if he tried... 10 years of dating before popping the question...), we enjoyed 2.5 years of wedded bliss sans child (and doesn't the birth of a child only make the love of a family grow that much stronger and greater?) Also, by the time we're ready for #2 and #3 (hubs wants 3 mind you...) we will be around 30 and 32 which seems pretty perfect to me.

I'm filled with joy at the thought of starting a family. The nervousness and anxiousness that I feel lies with my husband. I want him to feel ready. I want him to tell me he's ready. I don't want to feel like I've pushed this onto him; that I've pushed a baby that he's not yet ready for, onto him. I'm almost certain that this would ahem, ruin the moment, you might say... the time comes (no pun intended) and all I can think is "he doesn't want this, he doesn't want this" - doesn't seem like the way things should go, if you ask me. But how do you help a man prepare himself and feel ready? Is this how the majority of men think? Do most women ignore the un-readiness of the man and just go for it when they know they are ready? I almost feel like I have to push him in order for it to ever happen. If I didn't push and I just waited for him to come around, I'm 99.9% sure that I'd be in my late 30's, early 40's before having #1, and I don't know many women who want to wait that long.

I'm ready. I hope this is the year and I hope the hubs shares the same sentiment...

stay-at-home-momdom.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, especially as more and more friends have gotten pregnant; what will happen once we have a baby on the way? (Yes, this is vague, but I swear this is going somewhere) I've always viewed myself as fairly independent, monetarily that is, emotionally... not so much. I've rarely asked for financial help, took out loans to pay for my education and am now paying on those loans and will be for quite some time. I've always been academically and career driven. As an enthusiastic undergraduate student, I was ready to conquer the world. I knew what I wanted and I was determined to get it. I continued my education, earning a Master's degree and landed a position at an amazing design firm. I wanted nothing more than to have a strong career, doing what I love, and to work my way up in the design field and be featured in popular design magazines. After graduate school I hit the ground running. I was so excited about what I was doing and my future goals and successes in the field.

Now, not that I am not still passionate about my job, my feelings have sort of changed. In school my family sort of, unfortunately, took a back seat - they were always in my peripheral vision, but after my father passed away, I dove head first into my work and let it completely consume my every minute (making for an even more mentally unstable and unhealthy individual). Now that I've regained time during the week and have free weekends, and now that my head is screwed on a bit straighter, I've been able, thank God, to make my family a priority and many things have started to dawn on me. Family is absolutely #1 in my book. This, I have always known, and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do for them. This leads me to my current dilemma (not that it's really a dilemma) of wanting a family. My life plans have been altered and it's left me with an uneasy feeling. I want nothing more now, than to have children and be a stay at home mom. Nothing seems more rewarding than that. I'm torn because I do love what I do but at the same time, I'm feeling less fulfilled by it because thoughts of stay-at-home-momdom have infiltrated my thoughts. What has really gotten to me is that I worked so extremely hard in school (my family will tell you that they were actually worried about me and how serious I was about school - I'm serious when I say I let it consume me), I'm paying off school loans that I took out so that I could attend graduate school, further my education and have an easier time advancing in my career... all so I could become a stay-at-home-mom??? It's pains me to think it could have been for "nothing".

I did a little researching on this topic, which I found there is lots, and found this quote: "My children are only young once; I can get a career later." I have to admit that this does make me feel a little bit better. There will always be time later in life to accomplish other goals you may have once had and sometimes some goals need to be put on hold while other goals are achieved.

Those school loans are going to be there for a while... and though I've told him that it's my debt, and mine alone and that I wouldn't think of asking him to help me pay them off (that's the independence speaking) the hubs will have to pick up some of that slack which leads me to wonder how finances will work... that's a whole other blog though...

in-laws.

Family is extremely important to the hubs and me, especially after both losing our fathers. We are both close to our families and spend as much of our time with them as possible. I'm absolutely grateful for his family, who raised such a wonderful, genuine, caring, loving man, and after dating the hubs and getting to know his family for the past ten years, I certainly knew what I was getting myself into. Or, so I thought.

The engagement and wedding planning offered me a completely different view of his family; one I'm not sure I ever wanted/needed to see or want to see again.

His mother questioned our decision to get married "so young" (we were 25 when we were married) instead of working to establish our careers and continue our educations (at this point, I already had a Masters degree, hubs was finishing his Masters and we both had stable, professional careers). His unmarried, older sister, in her role as the maid of honor, took the bull by the horns so to speak, and eagerly attempted to get her way in many aspects of the wedding though she'd say she was only trying to help. Unwarranted and confusing criticisms were made on flower decisions, seating arrangements, and dress and veil choices. I was told that I wasn't thankful enough for a bridal shower thrown for me. Harsh words were spoken about members of our wedding party and the way that we were planning the wedding and I was actually reprimanded for trying to make everyone happy.

At first I had an extremely difficult time trying to figure out where all of this seemingly pent up anger was coming from as it seemed to be quite a bit more than just the little tiffs that are expected during wedding planning. I spent many nights sitting on the couch in tears going back and forth with my fi and mom about whether we should have the wedding. The arguments and harsh emails and voicemails continued until one night when my husband decided enough was enough. We've always tried to tiptoe around his mother and sister to keep things as calm as possible (both have not yet fully coped with the loss of their husband and father, respectively, and these emotions have deep roots which present themselves in different situations) but the fi had reached his boiling point. After many arguments with both of them we suggested that we all go talk to a counselor, a third party, to get some input and insight on what was happening. (Yes, that's how bad it got.) Both refused however, saying they didn't need any counseling and that we weren't considering their feelings (this after being told that I shouldn't try to make everyone happy) and we were left wondering whether our wedding, one of the most important days of our lives, was going to be ruined and if we should just elope.

Fi's mother finally admitted that she felt like she was losing a son and that she thought I wasn't being understanding enough (My mother on the other hand, from day one, said she was happy to be gaining a son. Not once did she feel like she was losing a daughter).  Fi's sister, although she never exactly admitted it, appeared to be a bit jealous that her younger brother was getting married before her and did what she could (some of it even subconsciously) to focus some attention on herself in her important role as the MOH.

It was very difficult for me to feel much support from his side of the family. It was sad to me that his mother only felt like she was losing a son and not gaining a daughter. It wasn't until after the wedding (which magically went off without a hitch, minus the rain) that she actually referred to me as her daughter, with joy. I understand where his sisters pangs of jealousy were coming from since I'd felt the same way when many of our other close friends were getting married. And what seemed to make all of this worse, adding fuel to what could have been small, controllable fires, was the fact that neither of our fathers were there.

Things have settled down and the smoke has cleared (for the most part) since after the wedding but I can't help but worry about what will happen when hubs and I decide to get pregnant. I worry that the jealousy will resurface, that we will have difficulty enjoying the pregnancy, choosing names, paint colors, and strollers and that they'll feel like they don't get enough time with the babies.

It's been exhausting dealing with our families, especially after moving a few hours away from our home towns, but we can't help but love them to pieces.

We certainly worry about what will happen in the next few years as we reach more milestones in our lives, and we're back to tip toeing as gently as possible to avoid a similar situation. What can I say, ya can't live with them, and ya can't live without them.