Love & Marriage

quarantinis: 1 part planning

I will admit that my drinking has definitely increased during the Covid-19 pandemic. I typically have a glass of wine every month or two but have been having a few glasses a week. Thank goodness for our wine tour trip we take in December with my friends — we are well stocked for a few weeks.

It’s not all wine and dog walks though — last night, my husband and I had what was probably the most serious conversation of our relationship. It was about what we do if 4 gets sick — what is our course of action? 4 is medically complex on paper with a slew of respiratory diagnoses; in person, you’d never know but doctors and hospitals wouldn’t be able to view our busy boy and instead would need to rely on his medical records which are not particularly encouraging when we are both reading about respirator shortages and how other countries’ doctors have had to decide what to do and who to save.

Needless to say, it was a heavy conversation but we have a couple of plans in place. This made us both feel a little bit better. We are now on day 15 of being quarantined; my husband hasn’t been at work since March 3. Wild times. Still, we are optimistic — schedules have changed but our security has not. We are thankful for this because sometimes that’s all we can really point to for relief.

In other news, I figured I’d share some random musings and goals I’m setting for the next week or two:

  1. I am really happy I married my husband. Despite being cooped up in the house, we are calm and sane and he doesn’t get on my nerves.
  2. Every night, I’ve eaten a cheese tray. I love night snacking and it’s not a habit I’m likely to break; so, I think I’m going to try to switch to smoothies or fruit.
  3. In my mind, I’m the next Bob Vila. I am convinced I can lay new flooring in my bedroom. My husband is suspect of my skills but I used 7th and 8th grade metal and wood shop projects on my resume. (See #1 — the feeling may not be mutual.)
  4. I keep finding all kinds of clothes and handbags and shoes that I love online but am actually not ordering them all because I am not sure when I’ll be able to leave my house and I oddly am not trying to impress anyone at Whole Foods.
  5. My husband and I got an old school Nintendo, thinking it would be something fun to do at night. We are both terrible at it and lost interest almost immediately.
  6. Bath bombs/salts are really undervalued.
  7. My brain has been too bogged down with thoughts to focus on reading, which has been frustrating but I felt like I could write today so there’s hope!
  8. We bought 4 a two-wheel bike and are hoping that he will be a riding pro by the time the quarantine is over.

I am thankful for the outlet of writing and it’s really nice to be able to string some thoughts together today. My goal is to get back into my swing of writing because it’s always been something I so very enjoy.

I hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy!

breaking the cycle

Over the weekend, my husband and I had the pleasure of attending an annual trip to the Finger Lakes region in NY with some of my closest college friends, their spouses, and a gaggle of other friends. There were 16 of us in total; six couples; two sisters and a friend; and another friend of the group. Ten of us are parents who were really excited for a kid-free, adults-only weekend — what a time to be alive!

We rented a limo-bus for the big wine event and spent the entirety of the day eating snacks, visiting wineries & breweries, wine tasting, and singing songs. Honestly, this is the next best thing besides a wedding reception and basically all that we have to look forward to as a time to let loose since we are all married. We capped the night off with a trip to a local bar that was within walking distance.

At the bar, we were all paired off and checking in with each other on recent moves, familial relationships, our kids, work, etc. This is not atypical. We are a group of doctors, engineers, marketers, educators, and law professionals (among other things). My friends and I seem to have similar familial backgrounds and strangely, so do our husbands — dysfunction, hurt, frustration rising to the top of the guys’ childhood experiences.

It is not lost on me that each man in this group serves as an amazing supporter of their wives, their children, and each others’ children. We are all the better for knowing one another and I cannot express my gratitude enough that within this group of men who have experience emotional abuse and more, each one of them has made promises to themselves to do better; to be better.

Each of these guys wakes up each morning, determined to be a better version of those who modeled parenting and manhood to them. Each approaches each day making deliberate decisions that encourage and better not only their spouses and children but society as a whole. Each and every day, these men break the cycle that was modeled for them — a cycle that set out to destroy the livelihood of those around them (and those including them).

My admiration runs deep for each and every single one of these guys who chooses to prioritize feelings and family over anger and abuse. We so often read about breaking cycles and statistically, we know how difficult that can be, so to be surrounded by people who looked at toxic relationships in their lives and decided they deserved better and their children will not get that exposure to such toxicity from them is really powerful.

Our bar chats were very serious, especially on the heels of a lighthearted limo ride full of wine, dancing, and scream-singing, and fortunately, our Wendy’s nightcap was also light and full of laughter, but those conversations between are so meaningful and I just cannot believe how fortunate my husband and I are to have such strong support from afar all year long and have such compassion and strength from this group of friends (most of whom we see once a year for this event and some of whom we only know because of this event).

On the drive back to MA on Sunday, I brought this up to talk to my husband about it and he noted it’s something that has stood out to him as well. We are all able to support each other so deeply because we all have respect for one another’s experiences and we trust that the support and advice given is genuine and out of care. We should all be so lucky to have such models around us and our families, pushing toward a new normal for all to see.

hot toddy

When I was in college, one of my pledge sisters had a boyfriend, “Toddy too hottie” — this made the rest of my pledge class gag. Eventually she dropped from pledging, but the reference lives on in my mind and queasy stomach when I think of my favorite fall drink.

If I’m being honest, my favorite drink on its own is actually just hot cider. I typically have one non-water drink per day and nearly every single day in fall, that drink is hot cider. I’ve also somehow managed to get 3 hooked on it. He has a little two ounce mug that he sips his cinnamon cider (microwaved for :30).

Tonight, though, my husband and I are planning to enjoy a nightcap while watching the Rays take on the Astros. We greatly bond over our mutual love of playoff baseball and my vast enjoyment of brown liquor.

Now, I haven’t always enjoyed brown liquor and even the reference takes me back to a dear friend’s wedding where we had ‘the clear and the brown’ and … I almost fell out of my seat, so I’d taken a long-time hiatus from the brown unless out at a southern restaurant.

Tonight’s recipe is simple: In a pot, we like to mix cider, lemon, and cinnamon; when it’s warm, we add 1T of bourbon (correct, it’s not even a shot but my face goes numb after half a glass of wine, so I’d like to be coherent during our baseball and toddy evening). Of course, I take no pictures because I’ve not had my phone on me for much of the day.

I’m going to search Pinterest for other fall and winter night-cap ideas but am always open to other suggestions as well.

 

infertility, pt3

I started this post back in May and was reminded of this particular experience I shared the story with a friend over dinner and drinks last week.
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With it being Mother’s Day weekend, I was thinking back to our IVF days. Those days were particularly difficult for my husband and me (and our marriage). As I was reflecting, I couldn’t help but think of our trigger shot day from our first round of IVF.

I was having all kinds of hot flashes from the hormones, so we’d been sleeping with one of our bedroom windows open (and two fans on). In February. In Boston. It was great to have the windows open for this particular experience.

My husband watched a few videos from the pharmacy’s online portal and then told me what to expect: “The video said to use a dart-like throwing motion.” I was standing in position, staring down at my phone that blared Busta Rhymes and my husband prepped the area.

Then, bam.

I screamed. The dog went ballistic, barking and growling at my husband. My husband was frantically yelling, “Don’t move! The needle came out! It’s stuck!” I stood screaming while the dog tried to protect my honor, all with a giant needle sticking out of me. Because the trigger shot needs to be timed just so, we all had to quickly calm down and try again.

Fortunately, our neighbors are the gracious types. Nobody has ever asked what all of the screaming was about, nor did anyone call the police. My husband kept repeating, “I told you it was going to be like a dart?!” and I kept responding, “I’ve never been hit by a dart before?!” This was an intramuscular shot and one of the hundreds of shots administered by my husband (fortunately, the only one with such a mishap)…

Surprisingly, after this particular IVF cycle, we continued on with more treatments before deciding to call it quits with fertility specialists, shots, and mood swings and shifted our attention and energies to growing our family through other means. ENTER, a visit to our local Jordan’s Furniture store to talk to a representative about DCF fostering/adoption and signing up for MAPP training.

While we had not planned on this particular timing; fostering youth was something we’d discussed because it was always something that I’d wanted to do. My grandparents had five bio children and, because that wasn’t enough, fostered constantly to share their home and chaos with those in need. This was important to me and soon, us.

It wasn’t long before we started our first training class, but that’s a whole other story…

#blessed

Sometimes it can difficult to navigate the social constructs of media platforms online. I oftentimes see articles/posts berating the “humble brag” and this had me thinking…

Today, I dropped 13 off at camp and then took my son for a special treat before his camp started. (Full Disclosure: I also got myself a treat and forgot to order decaf, so I consumed caffeine for the first time in over two years today. WOW! I see how why people drink coffee; I feel like I can scale buildings and cure infectious diseases all in the next 40 minutes!) After his cake-pop, I dropped him off at camp and took my skinny caramel iced latte to the beach for the next three hours. I read much of that time and also squeezed in two walks for a total of ~3 miles. Lovely!

During my walks, I was thinking about my husband. I had texted him after 13’s drop-off and told I might stop by Starbucks. His response: “You should!” This is basically his response for any idea I have that involves basically anything. It’s great and I know he sincerely means it because he is constantly telling me to do more for myself (and I, him, because this is marriage and not a one-way street). This is one way we keep ourselves and each other accountable for things like prioritizing our own health and fitness, mental health, breaks, etc. It works for us.

As I walked down the beach, I thought that these are things that I’m typically unable to share with the Twitter/Facebook crowds. I don’t want to seem like I’m bragging about my day because my glass is overflowing. Trust, there are many days when my glass is empty and is teetering on the edge of the table waiting to be broken. The thing about parenting and maybe just being an adult is that everyone complains that nobody ‘keeps it real’ and only features ‘highlight reels’ — but what happens when this is the real much of the time?

Sure, I am not posting recordings of 3 screaming at the top of his lungs; I reserve those special moments for the patrons of the pizza place next door. Still, I would love to share with people my thoughts sometimes — about how my husband is a good man and a great father but I mostly just share that with him. He works hard to provide for our family and is supportive of my many ideas (most of which involve an airplane ride and money that I don’t make being on a sabbatical); he plays with the kids but also sets boundaries; he models to three children what a father and husband should do and while he doesn’t get it right all of the time, I think he’s definitely got it right the majority.

I clearly was having some philosophical banter in my mind during this walk; maybe it was the coffee or maybe just the peaceful vitamin sea I was soaking up. I continue to wonder why it is so difficult to share what is going on in our worlds. I know that I share more on Instagram than any other platform of social media and that is because most of the people on my IG are people I communicate with regularly and they know that 3 is often on the verge of breaking me and also that I live a privileged life full of love and stability.

For now, I will keep things this way as to not rock the boat of the #parentsquad on Twitter that air on the side of parental frustrations or the #soblessed crowd on Facebook that share their many #humblebrags. I guess, largely, I wanted to share that some of us are grateful for what we have and the lives we’ve built and it’s okay to be positive about those things because our optimism/lightness doesn’t negate your dark times or struggles.

We are all in it together to rejoice and support, day in and day out.

Note: This potentially is a bit of a ramble. Caffeine really does a number on me and I needed an outlet to get my morning walk thoughts out there.

staycation: a review

My husband and I had a great staycation in the city of Boston for Memorial Day weekend. My in-laws came down to visit with the kids & dog and we took the train in on Friday afternoon. We didn’t plan much (a couple meals, a race & yoga, and a Red Sox game), which really made it relaxing — hello, daily afternoon naps.

My phone was on DONOTDISTURB the duration of our trip. I texted only a few times with friends while my husband was running his race or getting ready for bed (and when my cousin got engaged!). Taking the train instead of driving relieved some stress and let us start our trip off with ease; though, admittedly, it was not easy carting around our suitcases, so we took a taxi home.

I kept a partial log of the restaurants and the foods we tried. In my mind, I’d write restaurant reviews but in reality, I’ll just give a quick one-liner with recommendations.

We stayed at StayPineapple. It was a cute boutique hotel between the South End and Back Bay areas. We could walk everywhere, which was the best for us. The room was small and definitely wouldn’t be for everyone but we liked it.

Friday, we tried Myers & Chang for dinner. The sweet & sour brussels sprouts were my favorite. We also ordered the wild boar dan dan noodles — I’d not had dan dan noodles since my time in Wuhan and was excited to try them; the verdict: Very spicy but delicious; I’d have preferred less meat in mine. We walked to Flour near our hotel after dinner and I got a brown butter rice krispy treat — my life has been forever changed.

Saturday, I introduced my husband to hot yoga. He was a real trooper — I could tell he was struggling but he made it through! Afterwards, we tried Tatte — their haloumi & sunny-side egg sandwich with tomato is basically all I ever need for breakfast for the rest of of my life. We had breakfast in the Public Garden and then walked to the Seaport to get his bib for the Run to Remember. Afterwards, we stopped at Taiyaki NYC to try the ice cream; their cones are more like soft waffles with red bean. We split the beach, please and it was a nice, light treat.

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We then ventured to Bartaco for lunch. Admittedly, I LOVE Bartaco — I tweeted them until they put a restaurant in Boston, so we try to visit when we are on that side of town. I had the grapefruit-mint agua fresca (non alcoholic) and it was so light; I want to make this at home. My husband and I spit a few duck, shrimp, chorizo, and falafel tacos, their chopped salad (my favorite), and their salsa & guac trio. It was all delicious. We’d walked nearly eight miles by the time we reached our hotel; took naps; and then got ready and headed out to dinner. We chose MoonBar for wine and some snacks (raw oysters, smoked swordfish dip with crackers, halibut crudo, and the most amazing grilled squid salad I’ve ever had). We knew we’d need something a little more substantial later, so we returned to Tatte and got sandwiches: My husband got the Turkey BLAT  and a sandwich cookies while I opted for the mozzarella sandwich and a slice of their orange cake. Delicious.

There’s a recipe book of mine that has a smoked fish dip and I’ve been curious about it. I can’t wait to make this at home now. The dip we had was really good, so I am tabling the recipe I have for a beach-date night.

On Sunday, my husband ran a half marathon and I went to yoga. We got back to the room and got ready for brunch: Brownstone was up. It was okay; I’d probably choose a different place next time, as there weren’t many vegetarian options and I was feeling very meated-out at that point. Their pancakes were good. After brunch, we took naps and then got ready for dinner in the North End. My husband snagged a reservation at Nico.  We went to Nico on our second date and it’s one of our favorite restaurants in the city. We went all out — drinks; the beet salad with whipped ricotta, honey & roasted pine nuts; their burrata salad with prosciutto, tomatoes & artichokes (a recipe I recreate at home OFTEN), and then my favorite dinner — their rigatoni with artichokes & sausage. I didn’t really eat the sausage and in retrospect should have asked for it without. My husband had their chicken parm and liked it too.

On Monday, we had plans for the 4PM Red Sox game. We ordered delivery for breakfast from Trident. My husband had the breakfast burrito and I made my own eggs benedict with tomatoes and spinach. We hadn’t been to Trident in a while and their food was just as good as we’d remembered. We had some snacks at the game (nachos) and then stopped at CAVA on the way back for some grain and greens bowls.

We ended our trip on Tuesday with more rice krispy treats from Flour, breakfast at the Friendly Toast (we both built our own omelettes — mine had asparagus, broccoli, tomatoes, and goat cheese — YUM!) and sushi at Red Lantern for dinner.

It was a great trip and a time to just walk around and enjoy the city and each other. We walked A LOT. At the most, I logged 8.2 miles (Saturday) and at the least, 2.9 miles (Friday). We didn’t take the train or a taxi anywhere after we got there and before we came home. It was nice to be unplugged, too. I need to put my phone on DO NOT DISTURB and forget about it more often. Overall, a great time. I look forward to our next one!

 

 

staycation

My husband and I booked a hotel in the city and are heading in after work today. We have dinner reservations tonight, a half-marathon (for him) and lots of yoga (for me, though he’s going to come to a class or two as well), brunch, and a baseball game planned.

I. Cannot. Wait.

Our last overnight trip together was a weekend away in December 2017; we stayed at a hotel in Pittsburgh last summer over vacation but went down with the kids and then met them the next day for a baseball game, so it’s not the same level of kid-freeness.

Anyway, I won’t be planning any meals this week but am looking forward to recapping the restaurants and getting back to swing of things next week!

 

mother’s day

For years, Mother’s Day left me in a strange place. I was a step-mother being celebrated for my contributions to my family but yearned for a child of my own at the same time. It was difficult to be appreciative and not show outward aching at the same time. When 3 came home, that all changed of course…

This weekend, we celebrated Mother’s Day and it was all lovely. Yesterday, I was showered with love and hand-made gifts from 11 & 13. They each made me mugs that were thoughtfully painted and they were both proud to tell me that I could use these mugs for my tea. I can’t wait!

Their mom took them to Michael’s to get a craft for me, which is appreciated. She has not always been so accepting and approving. Last night, when she came to pick 11 & 13 up, she texted my husband to let him know she got to the house and to have him wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. 11 & 13 left with handmade cards from an in-town printing press, flowers, and chocolate-covered strawberries in hand.

Before that, though, we went to Davio’s and had an Italian dinner (and a glass of Moscato for me). It was a delicious meal and our server complimented all three kiddos on their behavior (and their appetites).

I also was taught a new dance this weekend. I honestly wonder what the neighbors think, as there are frequent dance parties that take place in our sitting room and kitchen space. The newest dance I learned is where I catch an imaginary ball and then look like I’m tying a bow with my fists. It appears there are dramatized facial expressions as well.

All-in-all, a great weekend that led up to today. For Mother’s Day, my husband and 3 took me to brunch at one of my favorite places, Eastern Standard and surprised me with tickets to the Red Sox game! The weather in Boston was less than fantastic today, but after a Mother’s Day winter hat purchase, I was comfortable enough to make it through the game. Fortunately, my husband got us seats under the grand stand, so we stayed dry the duration of the game.

After a stunning Sox victory, we drove home, admiring the city and recapping our day. Then, we ordered pizza and cheesecake, because is there really any other way to celebrate Mother’s Day?

 

infertility, pt2

The funny thing about unexplained infertility is that everyone is so optimistic something positive will happen and then when it doesn’t, there’s not a single answer to any of the million questions you have. I deal well with logic and statistics, so basically getting a shoulder shrug as an explanation doesn’t really much work for me. More tests were ordered and a uterine scratch, which was an non-sedated procedure that was one of the more physically painful experiences of my life.

The best part of the scratch was when the RE performing the outpatient procedure said, “Well, you want to have a baby and childbirth is more painful than this.” It was true, I did want to have a baby; I never wanted this procedure. Comparing these two things and using such casual, condescending language, I assure you, is not something anyone dealing with years of fertility struggles wants to hear. My husband was there for the procedure; he took over responding to all questions at that point and told her I just needed to focus on my breathing.

I don’t remember much after that — just a lot of discomfort. We had to wait a month for results of the biopsy from the scratch and for proper healing before we could do our next round. As you likely gleaned from from the previous post, the scratch didn’t make much of a difference aside from the mental, emotional, and physical tolls.

Alas, the struggle with unexplained infertility continues, despite the perfect little addition to our family.

infertility, pt 1

I used to work full-time as a classroom teacher and then I worked in international education where I developed curriculum and teacher training for a program that brought American K-12 education to China. I traveled extensively for this position, both to our private partner schools stateside and to various cities and communities across China. I loved the work I did and really thrived in this position.

Then, we decided we were going to try to get pregnant and it didn’t happen quite as planned. After a year with no luck, my doctor put me on Clomid, which basically turned me into a raging psychopath. (My husband can vouch for this.) I had such an out of body experience with this drug, that after the first round, I asked to never use it again. I was persuaded to give it another try the following month and when that didn’t work, I promptly made an appointment with a local reproductive endocrinologist (RE).

Both my testing and my husband’s came back with glowing review — we were perfect and primed to easily get pregnant, except for that part where we’d been trying for 18 months and not a single positive pregnancy test in sight. I had apps, we tried trips to relax — nothing worked. After months of working with our new RE, we had a long conversation about IUI and IVF.

IUI was given an 11% chance of working and IVF for us was given significantly higher numbers (38%), so we went that route. My husband watched videos on how to give shots and I made early morning appointments with my clinic for all kinds of invasive testing. I also joined a support group with a local therapist; there, I met A who was on the same cycle as me at the same clinic. We’d see each other at each early morning appointment, which was equal parts comforting and uncomfortable.

After many shots, it was time for retrieval — all of my emotions came to a head there. The anesthesiologist hooked the IV to me and I went ballistic. My husband had already been taken downstairs to leave a sample, and this poor woman whom I’d just met, was faced  with a hysterical woman. Every single emotion from the shots, the Clomid, the failed attempts came pouring out of me and there was simply no stopping it.

Eventually, I passed out and they extracted six healthy eggs; all six fertilized; we implanted one; and froze four. Two weeks later, we found out that our IVF didn’t take and I’d have the pleasure of fully miscarrying on our family vacation to Disney World.

Once we returned, we did a round of Whole30 and then waited another month to discuss next steps with our RE who suggested that I should take a step back from so much work travel, so I quit my job and focused on working part-time doing some consulting and teaching at a local community college.

We took a trip to celebrate my newfound freedom but it was hardly worth celebrating. We did a frozen round of IVF and ended with the same fate as our first cycle. It was devastating: During this round, I’d visited my best friend who also had the pleasure of giving me shots, just further humiliating me and my poorly-functioning body. (She was great, as was my husband through it all but it just was something I’d wanted to keep so private which is tough to do when you’re too chicken to give yourself shots.)

After another Whole30 blitz and the healing of my bruise belly and backside, I’d mentioned to my husband that I didn’t think I could go through another cycle. It had broken me more than I’d ever realized possible: I felt like I was in a constant haze and was one comment or look from exploding.

I’ve never seen such a look of relief on someone’s face when I uttered those words to him that night. So, we decided that we’d take a break from it all and then figure out what we’d do after talking to our RE at the next round of follow-up appointments and tests…