Strategic Retreat!

Mood: Neutral. Don’t laugh, that’s the best description I can come up with right now. Not good or bad, just meh.

Listening to: My Daughter play Spiderman on the PS2

One of the greatest skills you can employ when you’re married is knowing when to throw in the towel and make a strategic retreat. No, I’m not talking about leaving your spouse, I’m talking about the moment when you realize that logic isn’t working anymore and anything you say will either be misinterpreted or will lead to a much larger fight involving screaming and possibly throwing things. This, my friends, is the best time to remove yourself for a few minutes and cool down.

Yesterday, we had such a situation. Daddy G and I had a dinner with some friends of our family that had come to Bangalore. Daddy G came home from the US the day before and was still fighting jet lag pretty badly. He was, however, up all day and seemed to be up to going out to dinner. We don’t get too many friends (even new ones we don’t really know) drop by, so I really wanted to make this happen and since he had been gone for 2 weeks, I really wanted him along too. I did tell him earlier that he didn’t have to if he didn’t feel up to it. He assured me he did. At 5:00, Daddy G passed out from tiredness. I figured if he took a half hour nap, he would be fine. We roused him at 5:30 to get ready to go. He proceeded to pick on my clothing choices (and whether or not I cared if I wore a band tee or an Indian top), and his kids clothes and hair. I pretty much brushed it off because everyone can be grumpy when they wake up. 

Daddy G then proceeded to flip the hell out when I tried to call my friends and confirm and didn’t know their last names, making it difficult for the person in the hotel to confirm I knew them. They are friends of my Aunt’s, so I was only told their first names. I got a little irritated then because I hate it when Daddy G flips the hell out for little things. I yelled back a little and he backed down. As we were leaving, my daughter wanted to bring along a marker and a piece of paper to write about her evening. I think she was afraid she would be bored, as these folks don’t have kids. Daddy G told her no and she talked back. He then started screaming about nothing at all. He was super out of control.

It was exactly this moment when I realized that there was no way he could get through the evening in the state he was in. I told him that I wanted him to go back to bed and sleep it off. I wasn’t mad, but we couldn’t be out in public with him flying off the handle about everything. He stomped off muttering and cursing under his breath. The kids and I took a deep breath and headed out the door. The best option at that point for everyone was to just change the plan and just roll with how it was.

We ended up having a lovely evening (and Daddy G got some much needed sleep!). Looking back, asking him to stay home was the right choice. Had I fought with him at all at that point, it would have turned into an epic battle that would have been pointless and probably would have scared the crap out of our kids. Sometimes, you just have to beat a strategic retreat.

When I got home, I woke Daddy G up and tried to get him to eat something as he hadn’t had dinner.  He asked for coffee, which I got for him. He got up and started doing a little bit of work. When Daddy G is mad, I pretty much just let him grumble/sulk/pout until he’s ready to talk about it. Bothering him about it and picking has never done me any good at all.  He will open up when he’s damn good and ready.  The first thing he told me was that he was really mad when I asked him to stay home, even though he knew it was the right call at the time. Looking back, it really was the best call because while the evening was pleasant, it did contain several unexpected turns that definitely would have set Daddy G off. The thing was, he still seemed pissed. When I asked him about it, he said he wouldn’t have worked from home that day if we weren’t going out to dinner. He started looking a little sheepish. This made me mad and I decided to insert some reality into the conversation. I told him that people who had just flown around the world had no business being at work the next day anyway. Luckily, Daddy G had a little bit of sanity from his extra sleep and tried to backtrack and say he was going to stay home anyways.  Whatever, ya work a holic!

Sometimes, it’s best to confront your significant other; sometimes a strategic retreat is much better than World War III. I’d venture to say that if your spouse is absolutely postal, for whatever reason, in front of your kids, it’s just not worth it, no matter how much you want to scream back.

We haven’t had too many situations that have reached this level of defcon, but the negative half of the coin that is getting comfortable with your spouse is that you feel much more comfortable saying what you mean and confronting him or her when needed.  It’s happened much more for us recently. Moving to India has brought on a whole new level of comfort and reliance on each other, and also a whole new comfort level about disagreeing.

Becky

Holding me Down

Mood: Crappy.

Listening to: I’ll Be – Edwin McCain. Don’t worry, I’m not here to be weepy.

So I never understood when people said that their significant other holds them down. Please folks, no 50 Shades of Grey references, I’m sick of em. 

I’m half way through the latest stint of Daddy G flying off to the US to be around everything I miss and some specific people I miss too. I guess that sounds a little bitter – which is not what I was going for. Today has been a crappy day in that I’ve talked to my mom, Daddy G, some beloved cousins, and a friend and I feel like shit anyway. I’m lonely as hell. Talking to people you miss just doesn’t always help. Sometimes it makes the ache worse.

Thanks to some issues I can’t seem to leave at the baggage carousel at the airport, I tend to mentally freak out when Daddy G and I aren’t around each other for long periods of time. I’m not talking a weekend, I’m talking weeks at a time.  I end up in some very dark, bad mental spaces that aren’t healthy or productive for me to visit. I lasted 2 days this time before I gave in and started letting my mind wander. And just like that, I get it. If it’s just me, I tend to feel unanchored and destructive. Eating seems less important, spending time doing constructively just doesn’t seem to matter, I just float. It makes it hard for me to be a good mom to my kids. So I shove it down in a little mental compartment until they go to bed, and then it runs wild.

I get it now when people say that have someone that holds them down. That is what Daddy G is for me. He’s been an amazing influence in my life and almost always has my back. Even when we’re busy, or have nothing to say, or even are fighting, he’s there for me and keeps me centered as to what’s good for our family. He’s there to pull me out of my mental funk or call me on not doing what needs to be done.

The times when he’s not here, it terrifies me what I would be like if the good universe forbid we get divorced or he dies before we’re old. The man holds me down and I love him for it.

Becky

Boob Variations

Listening to: Silence, strangely enough.

Mood: On.

Daddy G and I were having one of our chats in bed before falling asleep recently, and got to talking about boobs. And please, no harassment about calling them boobs. If I want to talk about breasts, I’ll go find my gyno, mmkay? Anyhow, this is one of the few times when I have Daddy G’s undivided attention, so the conversations are usually pretty entertaining.

Daddy G is an unapologetic (yet very much closeted, thanks to being Indian) boob guy. He has been for as long as I’ve known him, which is going on 12 years now.  For some reason, we got to talking about how men have a tendency to look at other women and compare and fantasize. Specifically at boobs, because that’s what Daddy G is most interested in.

This has never bothered me a bit. I have a rule that as long as it’s just looking and not touching, you’re home free.  He observed that it seemed to be strictly a guy thing and wondered what women have to compare and fantasize about. He even ventured that women don’t do that, because after all, what outward body part do we have to do that with?

I looked at him amused for a minute and then said that yes, I think women do that quite a bit more often than he thinks.  “But with what?” was his stuttered, curious reply. I admitted that being ladies, we probably don’t size up every.single.last. man we see on the street. Or sometimes we do, because when you gotta have it, you look at everyone.  This brought uncomfortable laugh from him because women being overtly sexual? Makes the man damn uncomfortable. I went on to say that we do occasionally wonder what a guy is packing in those jeans. After all, no two packages are wrapped quite the same. I then countered that I didn’t see what was so fascinating about boobs. They’re not all that different aside from obvious size differences.

Daddy G looked amazed that I didn’t get this and then launched into no fewer than 15 different variations in boobs that boob guys pay attention to. I can’t even remember them all because I was rolling on the ground laughing.

Mother nature saw fit to curse me with big boobs after I had my kids.In case you didn't notice, I’m pretty unimpressed with the whole thing. The funny thing is, Daddy G doesn't get all that crazy about mine unless we’re outside and my shirt is either too tight, too low cut, or see through, and not in a good way. In a quietly hissed “Why did you wear that shirt outside? All the guys on the street are staring!” way. Boob guy indeed.

What do you think ladies? Am I the only one who wonders occasionally what a guy is packing in those slacks? Gentlemen, are there really that many variations on boobs, asses, and legs?  Weigh in.

Becky

All the Things that Should Remain Unsaid

Listening to: Night Train – Guns N Roses

Mood: Trying my best to chill the heck out

Hello, sorry for the disappearing act, life has been keeping me busy.

So as I mentioned last time, Daddy G is headed abroad to the US for 2 weeks in July. I am still unenthusiastic (which is putting it nicely) about this development. I got to thinking of the ways two people deal with living with each other on a long term basis and all the things that aren’t said in the name of keeping the peace. I know not all people have this coping strategy. Some people prefer to get it all out there and let it fly fast and furious, but Daddy G and I are master avoiders of conflict and confrontation. 

Except when we aren’t, like the past few weeks. It’s been interesting. It’s not all about his trip, and most of it has to do with a little hormone imbalance problem that I’m having. Don’t be fooled by the skin people, there’s a veloceraptor hiding just under the surface. In some ways, it’s good. No one at the hospital gets to tell me that they just “accidentally” charged me wrong and now I have to pay lots more money. Oh hell no, sugar, your logic for that one was convoluted at best, circular at worst. Not paying. Unfortunately, Daddy G has had to avoid all of the flying objects (and I wish I was being hyperbolic here) that I find when my inner Tasmanian devil surfaces for some retarded reason. I feel awful about it, but it is really hard to control. I’m hoping a second visit with the doctor tomorrow and possibly some medication can help me feel a little more sane. Or at least tame the rage.

So what do you do with things that you either can’t say, or it won’t do any good to say?

I find the fact that you have a work spouse in Minneapolis that you talk to way more than me a lot less amusing than you think.

You are a grown ass man. Pick your towel up off the floor. Now.

No, it is not funny to generally act like I’m being a baby because I don’t want to go to the hospital here by myself even if you are busy.

Daddy G is an awesome guy and he’s excellent for me. This isn’t an attack on him in any way. It’s about 2 people who have to shelve certain thoughts and ideas because it just doesn’t gel with the reality of someone else. I’d give some examples that he can’t say, but Daddy G has always been smarter than me when it comes to leaving things unsaid and doesn’t say them. Living with someone else, even someone you love and generally get along with well, is hard yo. 

I’ve learned the hard way over the years that some things just aren’t worth saying. If I have to ask you for the 7^th time to please take out the gawd damned trash, it probably won’t happen unless I do it. You’re not my son. There are no consequences if you don’t do what I ask. I know it’s a down side of Daddy G seeing me as an independent, capable person – he doesn’t really have to do something he knows I can do. You want a drying rack? Sure, let me just procrastinate until you do it yourself.

I spent almost 8 of the 10 years of our marriage not saying much at all to Daddy G that would disturb the peace. This was my hang-up, a leftover of all the daddy issues I have. After I hit 30, I started feeling a little more secure that we were in this for the long run together and have become more vocal about what I want and what I need.  This has been intensely uncomfortable for Daddy G. In general, he has dealt with it with some grace and humor, but it’s hard to deal with someone who has generally become more outspoken when you’re used to someone who just goes along with what you want.

I don’t want to be a bitch, or a nag, or generally cow him into being a pussy. Definitely not. I detest that kind of thing. But I don’t want to walk on eggshells either. I’m not a fan of people feeling helpless and unable to change things that need change. Hiding from issues never solves them.  On the other hand though, there are things that aren’t going to be solved in my marriage. Daddy G’s work ethic is an issue that I’ve been over many times. This will never change. Nagging and harping on him will not only not change anything, it will make him resentful that he has to listen to said carping.

His insane need to sharpen what I said into pencil point accuracy? That will never change, it’s just his style. It’s not even worth a sharp retort because it will just cause us to fight. Will he listen if I come to him nicely and tell him it bothers me? Absolutely. Will it change? Eh, most likely not. It’s just a part of who he is. I think it would be good for me to remember that a little bit of serenity for the things that we can’t change about each other is necessary when advocating for what we need. After all, we’re going in the same direction and want to continue together. We have the rest of our lives to live with each other’s foibles. No point in letting small things grow into mountains.

How do you deal with the things that you just can’t change about your partner? Do you solicit your partner's help, or do you just manage yourself on your own?

Becky

The One in Which I Warn You of More Whining Coming Your Way

Mood: Aggravated. I hate when stuff disappears

Listening to: Some Beautiful Silence

Daddy G came home the other day with a more serious than usual expression on his face. I was sweaty (from the weather), exasperated (from the children) and hormonal (from, well, hormones. Girls have PMS hormones, let’s let it go already). This is never a good entry for a scene, but it does set the state for what comes next.

Daddy G: I have some news that you really won’t like, but I have to tell you.

I froze and got that deer in the headlights look that says I’m about to hear about an affair, a lost job, a death or something similarly serious. Daddy G of course took his sweet time continuing. This drives me nuts, but he does it all the time. Daddy G hates breaking bad news to me because I inevitably overreact and he hates confrontation.

Daddy G: I have to go to the US in June.

Me: No.

Daddy G: And September.

Me: Are you fucking kidding me? No.

Daddy G: Yes. My boss says blah blah blah I am needed in the US. (I honestly can’t remember what he said, I was trying to remove half of the red from my vision and stop my blood pressure from rising any further)

Me: Was something about “no” unclear?

I knew I was being bitchy, but I really didn’t care at that time.

Daddy G: Don’t be like this Becky.

Me: And why the hell not? You told me twice a year. Already once this year you’ve been gone for almost 2 months.  

Daddy G: It won’t be that long this time. You know that was for citizenship purposes.

Me: I think you’re missing the point here. We both know I am able to do it, but I don’t WANT to be left here to deal with life, the kids school, and the kids craziness all by myself.

Daddy G: I know.

Me: Not only that, both the times you are going are times when the kids and I can’t come with you. They have school.  I was looking forward to going to the US on your company’s generousness.

Part of the draw of Daddy G’s company is that they will fly us to the US with him when he goes, but we have to arrange the trip when our kids have school vacation. School starts in June and there are no holidays in September.

Daddy G: I know. Look Becky, I just brought you all to Sri Lanka for a family trip that we all enjoyed.

Me: I will not be bribed. Or shamed into being quiet.

Daddy G: I know.

Me: You better stop sayin I know, mister.

Daddy G: Sigh. I’m sorry it’s worked out like this, can you please stop pouting and talk to me about this like 

a grown up?

Me: Danger Daddy G, Danger.  It is not my fault that you spring this shit on me when I have PMS and am least able to deal with it like a mature adult. You should count yourself lucky that the shoes are two rooms away. I really, really feel like being super immature and chucking some shoes. At you.

At this point Daddy G started laughing and hugged me. As usual, my tantrum about anything related to his work is acknowledged, but really doesn’t ever change a damn thing.

Me: You do know that if you leave again without buying a car I will get extremely stabby and probably not be here when you get back.

More laughter. Sigh. At least I can have the bed and the fan to myself.

Becky

On Why I'm Glad I'm Not the Girlfriend Any Longer

Mood: Aggravated. I hate when stuff disappears

Listening to: My daughter getting Hindi tuition

Daddy G and I were watching TV the other day. A mushy boyfriend/girlfriend make out scene came on as we watched. As is his way, Daddy G proceeded to laugh his ass off at the scene and make fun of it. And you people said romance is dead. Hah! He’s never been the romantic type. I was placing bets in my head about whether they would be sex involved (none, unfortunately) and if so, how many naked body parts (oh come on India!) would be blurred out.

It got me to reminiscing about the good old dating days with Daddy G and how new and exciting everything was. I was missing it for a while, but then I started thinking a little more objectively. At that time, life was hard; both for me and for us as a couple. I was struggling to make it on my own as a semi-adult. Daddy G and I had a long distance relationship in which we only saw each other every 5 weeks. We weren’t even sure if we would last, so even our emotions were held in check a bit.

Now that I think about it, the time Daddy G and I had dating did have its own magical quality and I’m very thankful for the time and experiences we had. However, I would never want to go back to doing life like that. I really don’t ever want to be the girlfriend again. I’ve said many times before that I hope I never have to create a relationship of this type again. I never want to have to put in the crazy time and emotions it takes to get to know someone that well and marry them again. I can just see myself analyzing every little thing and thinking about how this is so not the same as last time – I want it the same!

I’m glad I’m the wife because for me, that comes with a good deal of permanence and security. The longer Daddy G and I are married, the more comfortable we are with ourselves, each other, and the relationship we have.  I love the way I can talk about uncomfortable things with him without having to walk on eggshells for fear of saying something wrong and chasing him away. Well, maybe I do tread some thin ice occasionally, but you’re stuck buster.

Yes, I do miss the excitement a bit. I miss things being new and being a fascinating creature to Daddy G. I have been known to occasionally whine when he no longer reaches for my hand when we walk together. Even with that, I know we’ve had our season for that type of thing. I’m continually learning to appreciate the man he has become and the direction our relationship has taken. For everything there is a season and all that good jazz. Most of all, I’m glad I’m not that same insecure, scared 19 year old who is terrified that I will do or say something to chase him away. I’ve grown to learn how silly that philosophy is.

Yep. I’m glad to be the wife.

Becky

A Recent Conversation

Daddy G: Becky, what did you buy on Amazon on our US credit card?

Becky: Erm….mumble mumble something DaddyG. I won’t do it again, promise. (Daddy G gets paid in rupees, so spending in dollars is expensive for us)

Daddy G: Seriously, what was it?

Becky: Mumble mumble… 50 Shades of Grey.

Daddy G: You spent 2,000 rupees on Trash Lit?

Becky: Yes.

Daddy G: Why???

Becky: I’m not apologizing. It was worth it.

Daddy G: Why was it worth it? It’s not even good writing!

Becky: I agree, the writing was absolutely awful. The good scenes were pretty hot though. That directly 

benefits you, you know.

Daddy G: Why didn’t you just buy it on Flipcart? (The Indian equivalent of Amazon, where books are 

much, much cheaper)

Becky: Well, first things first, I really didn’t think I would find it there.

Daddy G: I checked, it’s there.

Becky: Well, ahem. Second, I knew you would flip if I bought an actual book where our kids could get their hands on it or it could accidentally embarrass you in front of company.

Daddy G: Hmmm. Point given there. There will be no erotic literature on our bookshelves.

Becky: I’m sorry, I won’t buy stuff from Amazon anymore.

Daddy G: Wait a minute. Is this why you call me Sir?

Becky: Absolutely not. Number 1 I started calling you that long ago. Number 2, you’re totally not a dominant personality.

Daddy G: You really have to stop calling me that. People are going to think we’re all kinky.

Becky: Oh no. We can’t have that. (Eyes rolling so far back I can see the back of my head)

Daddy G: Seriously, I’m an exec now, you can’t be putting shit like this on the internets.

Becky: I call you Sir because you insufferably bossy sometimes.

Daddy G: This is not helping your cause. At all.  No Sir.

Becky: Damnit.

The Fighting Philosophers

Listening to: I’m Walking Away – Craig David (A coincidence, I swear! Not walking away from anything.)

Mood: In a serious procrastination funk. I have family coming over tomorrow and I’m pulling an ostrich

I got to talking to the hubby the other day about a health initiative in his company to get people talking about seeing health care providers to get checkups. To be sure, I have no part in corporate anything. I work but I’m a contractor, so the only office politics I have to deal with are my own. When my husband was telling me about this initiative my nose immediately wrinkled up in distaste. Why would a company care at all if people saw a doctor. I’m not talking about caring about their bottom line if employees are ill, I’m talking about actually caring as this was how it was being passed off as. My dear husband argued that the company did care about people. My husband is a corporate suit (and I love him for it), so he kind of has to drink the Kool-aid, for which I tease him on a regular basis. I called bull. We had a very spirited discussion about corporate motivations and being aware of others’ motivations. It later morphed into a discussion on social responsibilities.

I love having these chats with my husband. He is one of the very few people that I can have adult type intelligent conversations. We can disagree without anything being thrown, even though our views on things are quite often opposite. I am constantly reminded that my husband and I see eye to eye on many practical things like child raising, money, etc. Once we get into theoretical and philosophical territory, we couldn’t be more different on many, many things.

During our conversation, my husband looked at me in surprise and said that he couldn’t believe how much of a cynic I was. I looked back in equal surprise and wondered how we had been married for this long without that being glaringly obvious. I do believe I was born a cynic who grew into a realist. I replied back that I couldn’t believe that for an educated realist, he wasn’t more of a cynic. In this case ladies and gentlemen, a half empty glass on one side and a half full one on the other doesn’t equal a balance.

I’m glad we can have these discussions, even though the only things we walk away with are a better understanding of each other and the pleasure of having a good brisk discussion.  I always feel blessed when I’m reminded that I have a husband who respects me for who I am (well, most of the time anyways!) and that encourages me to always be better.

How do you deal with these kind of differences? Ignore them? Have rousing fights where you’re both throwing things and yelling? Discuss calmly and academically? Tell me, I’d love to hear your stories.

Becky

Getting Back in the Saddle

Listening to: Bad Obsession - Guns N Roses

Mood: Calm, for now

A caveat: This post has sexual content. If you know me, are my mother, or are embarrassed by sex in general, you may want to skip it.

As I mentioned, my lovely ball and chain left for the US to take care of some urgent business. He has since returned to our home. As I also mentioned, it is taking us quite some time to get back on the same page
.

I am a member of the loud and proud group when it comes to sex. I love it. I have never had any physical problems related to sex.  I can count on 1 hand the number of times I failed to get it up since I was 16. Yes, yes, I’m a girl, but we do have the equivalent. Not being able to get wet enough to enjoy it and not reaching climax counts as not getting it up in my book.

Let me tell you, people, we had a Sierra Desert situation going on the first time after he returned. It was just bad.  I’m not afraid of a little lube now and then, but that didn’t seem to help either. We awkwardly laughed it off as a hormone issue, even though I usually greet my husband much more enthusiastically after we’ve been apart. As I mentioned, I was apprehensive about his return. 2 months is a LONG time to be apart yo.

The next night, I decided we were going to try again. It was worse. My poor husband was sure that I wasn’t attracted to an old fart like him anymore (harumph, the man is 37, not 87) and I was freaking out that the sexuality that had so defined my post-puberty life was missing.  I’ve had 2 kids with very little drop of libido – in fact there’s an argument to the exact opposite – and I am desperately afraid of becoming the woman that loses her sex drive to kids and getting older.  The worst part of it, was that I wanted to want it, but just couldn’t. I felt much too estranged from my husband to get into it.

As I stewed and my husband pouted, we decided to go away for the weekend to spend some much needed time together as a family. I was anxiously googling all of the things that could be the cause. Ok, I get it, stress is a factor, but I needed solutions people, not just advice to relax! Looking back, this break was probably a good thing, but at the time it was a problem that needed solving, and how could we do that with all of us sleeping in the same room? We spent a great time together and I got to spend a little no-pressure time with the husband (he went back to work the day after he landed, so we really didn’t spend much time together until that weekend). After we got back home, I decided that I needed a little help catching my mind and body up to where I wanted them. Literotica is my go-to resource. I spent some quality time with that web site and was ready to go that evening. While it wasn’t as smooth as some of our encounters, we both counted it as a success.

We’re still not back to where we need to be with each other, physically or mentally, but we’re working on it. 2 months apart doesn’t disappear in a day.

What do you do to feel connected to your spouse after you’ve been apart? Any fun stories like mine to tell? I’d love to hear it.

Becky

Where in the World

Listening to: A Matter of Trust - Billy Joel

Mood: Happy

Today is not the day that I discovered Blogger’s stat features. I have been occasionally throwing an eye around there for quite some time.

As of late, this has especially fascinated me. I’ve found out that I have readers from Latvia (!), Malaysia, Iran, Russia, Romania (!!), Slovenia (seriously?!), Turkey, China, The Netherlands (holla back Dutch folks!), France, Nepal (!), Ukraine, Brazil, and Laos (again, really?!)

All I can say is wow folks. I appreciate every single last one of you. Please, please, please come back often. I’ll do my best to continue providing you with entertaining reading. I also love comments, so let ‘em fly people. There are convenient following options also if you want me all up in your email inbox or RSS feeder. All of my goodness delivered to your (virtual) doorstep. The email following instructions are on the left, the RSS subscription at the bottom of the page.

I have some options for those who want to read something different. I regularly keep 6 blogs. Some get written in more than others, but the content is all different. Check out the links below for more of my content.

Politics: While I don’t get around to blogging here nearly enough to suit my taste – I feel that some of these articles are my best. Since I grew up in the US, but live in India, both will be included:

 http://becky-politicalrants.blogspot.in/

My take on a mommy blog:

http://guardingthecouches.blogspot.in/

Life in India – good fun with pictures:

http://followingthemasala.blogspot.in/

My main blog with life musings:

http://beckyispassingthrough.blogspot.in/

For what I’m reading and Recommending:

http://searchingforedification.blogspot.in/

Thanks for reading!

Becky

Battle of the Influences

Listening to: Allah Alek Ya Seedi (Love me some Arabic music!)

Mood: Wired, thanks to some extra strong coffee today

When I was a young girl (and indeed, a teenager and young adult), things used to excite me. I used to anticipate something fun for days in advance, weeks if it was something spectacularly fun. I thought this was awesome and part of the fun too.

After I grew up a teeny bit and got married (like 23), things started to change for me. My husband is not what you’d call the excitable type. He’s at best Buddhist type calm.

Over the years, I have noticed how his sedateness has worn off on me. A Lot. Or perhaps that’s just a theory. Perhaps people naturally get a bit worn down by life and don’t get quite so worked up by the small things. After a while, I found myself being a bit more guarded about excitement. This was a direct result of some pretty large disappointments and things falling through. I suppose it’s natural to pull back a little from the jumping up and down when the disappointment isn’t worth the excitement if something falls through.

Just one of the things that wandered into my mental space this morning. I’ve heard quite a few people say that spouses rub off on each other. I’ve noticed it quite a bit in myself – I’ve gained some of my husband’s traits over time (I’m much more apt to plan things out ahead of time rather than just fly by the seat of my pants). This isn’t always a great thing (spontaneity – I miss it!), but it does make for a smoother marriage if you ask me.  If you put a planner and a non-planner together, there are bound to be some pretty steady disagreements on how life should be. On the other hand, sometimes it is life that changes you and the spouse just happens to have already traversed that path or was even born like that. 

A little bit of a variant on Nature vs. Nurture. My husband likes to claim that he helped me become who I am today. There is no doubt at all that this is at least partially true. I also think it can’t be the whole story.  I refuse to think that had I been married to someone else, I would have been a completely different person. Perhaps it’s my ego speaking here, but I like to think that the person I am today is a combination of MY experiences. Obviously, a husband will be a pretty regular part of my experiences after I get married, but the core should remain the same.

What do you think? Is it more a person influencing you or just life?

Becky

Re-Acclimating Myself to Someone Else in My Bed

Listening to: Rolling in the Deep  - Adele

 Mood: Veloceraptor-ish. Seriously – duck and cover.

So I’ve had an epiphany. I cannot write anything (blogs, manifestos, grocery lists) with the TV on. My ADD (no, I do not have ADD, more like a micro attention span) brain simply cannot process the two at the same time. I inevitably get sucked into the TV. And then I turn on Spider Solitaire and all hope is lost. Seriously. I am a boss at the Spider and get sucked into that ridiculous game more than I’d like to admit. On the other hand, some of my most brilliant ideas have come from some freethinking time on Spider.  Tough break TV. Lesson learned. For some reason, my ipod doesn’t do the same thing to my brain. I can be listening to (and indeed to my children’s chagrin, singing along) music and it enhances what I’m writing, not the other way around.

My long lost (well, as long and lost as 5 weeks can be) other half is coming home. Did I tell you he was going away? No? Yes? I never remember what I tell anyone, including the masses on the internet. My apologies if I’m repeating myself again. Anywho – the hubby had to go get his citizenship and do some work for the large multinational company he works with. This company will remain unnamed in the event that they actually want to remain unnamed and I’m not looking to get the husband fired here – that would suck.  He has been location-ally absent from our lives for the past 4.5 weeks. I say that because it is 2012, we have these handy things called telephones and Skype, thank the Spaghetti monster. Still. 

He’s coming home very late on Sunday.  I’m not sure how I feel about this, which is freaking me the hell out. I am nuts about my ball and chain. I have missed him sorely. The thing is, it has been 5 weeks – which is an awfully long time to get used to someone not being around. Namely – I have become accustomed to sleeping alone in my bed. I haven’t slept alone for more than a few days at a time since I got married 9 years ago. Its addictive people – you get used to the warm body next to you, even if that thing steals the covers when it’s freezing out and lays on you when it’s 90 bazillion degrees out.  It took me a full week to get used to sleeping alone and it is glorious. I would never wish to sleep alone if I had the choice to sleep next to the hubs – but wow. All the covers are mine, the fan is cranked up as far as I want it. I can sprawl out as much as I want. If I want all 4 pillows propped under various limbs, I can! 

As fun as it is to rhapsodize about bed space being mine, what concerns me most is readjusting to living like I’m married again. There is something insidious about physical distance while being in a relationship. It worms into your thinking and all of a sudden, you wake up one day and you’re separate entities living separate lives, connected by the tenuous strands of your relationship and your children (if you have them).  One of the most threatening things to a couple is growing apart. How much more easy is it to grow apart when you’re not actually together? The fact that I have not slept with my husband (in either sense of the word) in a long time sits uneasily in my mind. You forget the little idiosyncrasies (both the good ones and the bad) that come with someone else sharing your life. The past 5 weeks around here have been downright hellish as the crazy came out. These have been my battles to face. My husband, as much as he loves and supports me, has not been here to participate. He has been living his own reality in the states; one that only includes me and our kids when we Skype or he thinks of us. 

I compartmentalize what is probably more than healthy. Compartmentalization: The defense mechanism of champions. I missed the husband more than a reasonable the first 2 weeks. I pined, and pouted, and went off into some unhealthy, destructive mental space. The thing is, I still have a life to run here. Engaging in this type of thing when you have kids to raise, live in a foreign country, and have an employee to manage is generally very bad all around. So I did what I’m best at. I shoved it all in a mental box, shoved it on a brain shelf and decided to deal with it later. I believe this is known as putting your big girl panties on and dealing with it. Whatever. It wasn’t the soul crushing type of sad that comes with getting a divorce and being permanently separated…it was more like an involuntary relationship hiatus, only it wasn’t entirely involuntary. It definitely wasn’t wanted, it just happened to come along with a responsibility my husband had.  If there’s anything I’m really, really excellent at, it’s putting one foot in front of another and just moving on. So that’s been the mentality here. Just get through the day. Tomorrow will be one day closer to this being done. I’ve become exceedingly used to the dichotomy of noise at our house. During the day, I listen to nonstop monkey chatter from the girls. At night, it’s silent around here.  I have the feeling it will be odd to have my husband around, even though he’s not much of a chatterbox anyhow. It’s almost like we have to realign both of our separated lives back into one.  I’m really quite puzzled as to how military families and those who choose to live separately for whatever reason (career, etc) do it.

I know, I know, it’s only been a month and 1 week. I’m pretty sure this pervading sense of anxiety and  separate-ness  would only increase as time went on and make it hard to readjust to being a team again.

Hopefully we’ll never have to find out.

Becky

Flying Solo...For a While

Listening to: The Lumberjack song – Monty Python

Mood: On

I’ve been married for just shy of 9 years now. Every year since Daddy G and I got married, we have spent about 1 month of the summer apart; sometimes a week longer, sometimes a few less. It wasn’t a negotiated, or even decided thing, it just kind of evolved. I took the kids back to my mother’s house for a visit. We socialized with my family and lots of old friends. I have always loved my visits, but by the end of the 4 weeks, I’m missing Daddy G a lot and aching to be in my own house again. I never thought much about how he would feel about it because it was vacation and I had too many things to do to sit around thinking.  I’ve since come to realize that he hated it. Daddy G spoils me quite a bit in that he encourages me to do things I want to do (like visit my family) and he does it selflessly for the most part. Likewise, if he wants to go out with the boys (or on a boys weekend even) I’m the last person in the world to complain.

Recently, we’ve had the situation reversed a bit.  Daddy G has gone back to the US for 5 weeks to wrap up his citizenship (Finally!) and obtain a US passport/Indian PIO card.  We’re halfway through it now, and I hate it. I know part of it is living in India and feeling a bit isolated without the person I count on most, but it’s been rough.  I’ve come to the conclusion that I would really rather not spend another vacation in this way. Anyhow, now that we’ve moved to India, my days of disappearing off to my mom’s house once a year have come to an end.

I’ve heard a lot of propaganda about couple’s taking separate vacations and how it can be a good thing. After all, it’s great to have a bit of a break from someone you’re around ALL THE TIME, even if you do love them. I suppose for some couples this is true.  If you have no common interests, it may be rather boring to vacation together.  It is easier to remember what you enjoyed and appreciated about a person after you’ve been away for a while.

The thing that bothers me most about this idea is longer vacations. A month is a long time to be apart from someone else. When Daddy G and I were dating, his job took him to a city 6 hours away from mine. He could afford to fly over and visit me every 5 weeks. I can still remember how exasperating those 5 weeks were and how long they stretched out, even with daily phone calls. I can distinctly remember the point when I realized that I didn’t want to live this way any longer. I was actually contemplating a move to his city when I found out I was carrying my elder daughter. We obviously got married and the rest was history. The thing about living apart from someone else is that you drift apart, even if you’re trying your best not to. Times have changed quite a bit since those phone calls. We have Skype and the girls and I try to talk to Daddy G every day or two so we all feel connected. It’s still hard though. Unless you make a distinct and heroic effort to include the other person in your life, it’s easy to feel like you’re leading 2 different lives, which leads into dangerous territory. In my opinion, some of the best and happiest marriages are where people feel that they have a common path and goals. This is pretty hard to do when you’re not actually spending any time with the other person.

Then there’s the question of getting back on the same page after your spouse or you return. I’ve talked to quite a few people who have told me this is a problem, as well as experiencing it firsthand. There’s a bit of awkwardness that appears as you try to both get back on the same path together.  It can definitely put a space in your emotional and sexual connection. I’ve found that the longer two people are apart, the longer it takes them to sync back up when they are back together.

Another thing to consider is how your children will react to the situation if you have children. My children have been unsurprisingly unhappy about the whole situation. They are very close to their dad, which I am very thankful for. There has been a bit of acting out though. My hat once again goes out to single parents. I’m not exactly sure how you do it without a partner backing you up. For all we talk, it’s hard for Daddy G to be involved in managing the kids. Because we are both in separate time zones, it’s not always easy to have him help with something going on with the kids. He can’t be there to back me up or discipline the kids when a problem is happening.

We’re wandering into sappy territory here, so you’ve been warned. As I get older, I find myself wanting to spend time with Daddy G.  We don’t’ have all that many interests in common, but I do enjoy spending time with him and talking with him. That’s pretty much why I married him, so why stop now?

I don’t think I’ve reached any conclusions right now about separate vacations. If it works for you, fabulous. Do it. If not, why make yourself and be miserable. I will say this though. I think families function best when they are together unless they have some divorce worthy drama.

What are your thoughts on separate vacations/spending time apart?                                                    

Becky