Our little place, a lot of Love!

Are we still married…?

HELLS YES! Things are going really well in our little household of two. ❤Photo on 02-12-2014 at 02.48 #2

Its funny how when I am REALLY happy, how often I give him a treat. Today we initiated December by buying a teeny tiny Christmas tree,🎄 stockings, decorations and fun stuff to decorate the house. I had made a playlist which we played and I had bought cinnamon oil to put in our candle oil-burner, so the house smelled sooo Christmassy as we were writing cards for our families. For the first time signing our names together, as a married couple. How neat is that..? 🎁

The day was interrupted sometimes with Santa’s helper being a naughty girl and Santa having to have a serious talk with her, 🎅 and Santa’s helper getting her big Christmas wish fulfilled a little early, – sucking on a big candy cane. 🍭 So yeah, there was a lot of sex, and nice treats for my man, for the past few days things have gotten better. And I take it down to us working on our foreplay, and him doing more for me. Although we’re not really doing as much foreplay as we should, STILL being too impatient, I feel like he is more aware and trying MUCH harder. To initiate pleasing ME. And we are so merry at the moment that things are just gliiiiiding so smoothly.

I am so lucky! Here’s to december, and all the days of Christmas preparations ahead!

The fear

Are we still married…?

Yeah. For the past three days my husband has been distant, as he has been so tired and overwhelmed with school and work, and he has had allergy reactions that have taken over. I told him last night how I felt, really gently and just said that I needed to know that it had nothing to do with me, although I already kind of knew. It’s like that when you’re close to someone. I had been patient for days, and initiated every sex session, and not gotten much loving or tenderness. He apologized and reassured me, and the result now is a tired husband who is trying to overcompensate.. Hahah. It’s so cute. And I just told him that it’s okay and he can do what he wants to do to relax and wind down – whatever he needs, but I appreciate the compliments. He’s got the TV to himself and ordered a pizza, sitting there watching a game, happily shutting his brain off. I love him so much. We are so good.

But in my mind things are whirring. My niece as I’ve formerly written about posted a blog post last night which was disturbing but heartfelt and really well written. She was released from the hospital a week ago, where she had gotten a lot of care and therapy. But she hadn’t been able to open up. The structure and care was very comforting, so she was clinging to the warmth of that and not wanting to delve into the darkness. So again, coming home to my tired, sleep-depraved mother she fell back into a black hole. And she wrote in her blog that before the institutionalization, she had it all written down, how, where and when it would happen, – how she would kill herself. Just reading that made me shiver, she is better now, but knowing that she had gotten that far with her thoughts are terrifying, and it takes me back to when I was living with fear for 11 years, when her father, my brother was suicidal and very very sick. I still remember the day when my mum found him dead VERY very cleary. The feeling. The smells in the air. Everybody’s faces. And how my dad was NOT there for me. And my niece…. And now, six years later, I am dreading every phone call from my mother, far far away where I can’t reach them. What if this will be the call? Where she says that my niece is dead?

You might think that it’s silly to think like this, but when it happens to you, the fear is always there, and you KNOW that anyone can die at any time… you can loose anyone, it can happen to YOU. I am trying, believe me, to keep my thoughts in check. And t not let it become what I had before. I don’t want that again… The fear of my brother dying was taken over by an enormous grief of loosing him and depression, insomnia, struggle and anger. And now years down the line, I still battle all those things. Less, but still. But at least I am not living with that fear.

I fear other things. My biggest fear is to loose my mother. I can’t live without her. Not now… I need more time. I still feel like a child. And I am scared. I need her. And I am so scared of getting sick. Cancer. I am so scared of cancer. ALL my grandparents had it. And my mom hasn’t gotten it yet, she is 62. So either it’s coming or it skipped a generation. Me… is it coming for me? All this worrying about cancer might just give me cancer. Since I can remember I have been battling fear. I am sure most people are. But most people I know aren’t as scared as me. And when they are they deal with it in ways that I don’t even touch. I don’t drink alcohol, and I haven’t tasted it since I was eight. I don’t do drugs, and I don’t hide from my feelings. I confront them, and I work through it, sometimes it is almost impossible, but I have managed through a hell of a lot without any medication or sleeping pills. People are different, so I guess I am lucky to be able to do this. I’ve mastered my brain. Although I loose control of it and my emotions often, I never let go. I keep fighting. I just hope my niece can do the same. She is stronger than me, but she has also been through a hell of a lot more and WORSE than me.

Let’s all keep battling our fears, and hold on to the seconds of happiness that we get here and there. And I will keep being grateful. For not missing any limbs. For having all my senses. For not having cancer. For being married to the love of my life.

That woman in Yoga who takes off her top

Hello world!

Life has been busy as I have been working five/six different FUN jobs and there has been birthdays and Halloween. I am very happy now that I am bringing in some bacon, and my husband is cooking it happily up for us both, and is able to take some time off whenever the pressure at school takes off.

I am a roller-coaster of emotions, which can change a lot throughout the day, and quickly, and sometimes without warning. I had the day off today to lay about and do some paperwork at my own pace, while my husband was at school. When he was there I sent him such a happy message. About how happy and proud I am of our life, that we fought so hard for, and he worked so hard for. How much fun we’ve had lately, with his family and together, and how much passion and great sex. How I’m loving feeling like I am getting into a better shape, and I love how I look and how his compliments make me feel great.

He cooked up a delicious pasta dish when he came home, and I ate with him happily and rested a bit to digest the food before I headed off, to the gym, to do an hour of Zumba and then another hour of yoga. The past two weeks have been so busy I’ve only gone twice a week to the gym, when I usually try to keep the minimum to three days at least, with some cardio. I’ve been very active however, and I can tell I am getting more control over my body again, which I LOVE. I DO NOT, however, LOVE working out. I DESPISE it, and most of all…  YOGA. Yes yes yes… eeeeeverybody looooooooves Yoga. Ohh it’s so good for you, ahhh I feel so good and reenergized, Ohhh I love stretching, ah gash, I just had a granola bar and I am soooo ready for some yoga. NOOOOOT.

I’ve done Yoga for six years now, (for two years of the beginning I did it everyday as part of my theatrical training) and back then I was a lump of doughy nothing, so it took me a looooong time to progress. And After that I’ve done it (not religiously) but now and then. And trust me, I do NOT look like I’ve done it for six years..! I Do NOt have a yoga body, and never will, I am simply not built that way. Which is fine. I love how I am built. 🙂 But for the past two years I have done VERY little of it, and even less stretching, as I HATE it. it is so painful. I am really flexible ALL over my body, except my hamstrings, which are insanely tight. I can open my hips wiiiiide, and put my legs behind my neck, but I can’t for the love of me, stretch my legs out. And I am FAR from reaching my toes. This is bad, and gives me pains in my lower back. And tears of frustration comes easily when I am stretching them, as they are far more painful than in a normal stretch. So Today during the yoga, (in which I am not one of the good students that can do all the poses and moves easily) It’s frustrating and sometimes depressing feeling how I’ve gone backwards in my progress, and trying not to compare myself to others, – which is hard, when I see most other people doing the things with ease.

Than there are those women…. In this case, THAT woman, the tall slender woman, with an athletic body with long legs, stretching beautifully in front of me, that gets SO hot in there, in that big air-conditioned room with men and women posing on their mats, She gets SO hot, MORE hot than everyone else clearly, because She HAS to take of that little loose fitted top OFF to continue to practice in her little sports bra with her ripped abs and tanned skin. The man behind her certainly doesn’t mind. I felt like going; “oH Yeah! Me too man! I Am SOO hot..” And taking off my top to reveal my jiggly Buddah belly. And stand there in unflattering positions right in front of her and that guy. But no, NO ONE ELSE takes off their top. Just her. As I leave I am in need of a rant, and comes home to a husband who has no Idea what is coming to him, and sets off complaining and tries to compare it in as many understandable ways as possible. But he isn’t one of us. He is not MY kind. He is THEIR kind. He looks so good that he feels totally fine taking off his clothes in public, in fact he is frustrated that HE has to feel self conscious around the big guy who looks at him and thinks he is a douche. Ahhh…. How frustrating.

Well. Even WHEN I get my flat beautiful NON ripped belly, which is more than fine to show off in Yoga, I WON’T. Because I am totally fine with keeping my top on in class like everybody else. However, on the beach, while tanning. I am totally bare chested. Laying there, tanning my nipples. Like my mother and her saggy mommy boobs, that’s the woman I am.

Perfection

I am following in Dawn D‘s footsteps and being inspired by OctPoWriMo, and today’s word was, PERFECT. These are the thoughts that were triggered for me.

I have met women, girls and cats, that I thought were close, to perfect.

My mother always said to me, that nobody is perfect, and the definition of perfect changes quickly, as quickly as a decade, sometimes only a year.

Therefore when I met the women, girls and cats, that I thought were close, to perfect,

I knew they really weren’t and somehow that made me smile.

When I was little, there was a girl in my class. All the boys saw her and all the girls loved her, and she was so pretty, sporty and smart, she always finished her math tasks first, and had lots of friends. I thought she must be perfect, since everybody wants to copy her, but I am not like her, not one little bit, then what am I, if that is perfection?

Imperfect.

When I became a young woman, I came to know a young woman, she was a year under me in school, and she was so perfect. Her short platinum blonde hair, perfect on her perfect head. Her stunning face, with light makeup, collar bones, glowing skin, womanly beautiful body. She was funny, talented and had a unique style, I was blown away, to the point of obsession, a girl crush, the wonder, how did she do it? Why was she this flawless? Everyday?

And what was I? Next to her?

Cats are so perfect, their bodies so strong, sleek and flexible, their faces are stunning and so god damned cute. They jump and stretch and purr when they’re happy and lay in the sun with a grin on their face.

I wish I was a cat.

But I knew all along, and I still know it true.

The little girl I once knew, She wasn’t perfect, she was spoiled, she manipulated, took advantage of her assets and hurt people’s feelings. It made her imperfect, it made her foul. And now she is plane, boring and uninteresting. Maybe she’ll learn, like I did.

The young woman I still know, she had her teeth done, the two corner teeth in her pearly white smile, were crooked and made her the most unique face ever. Now her teeth are straight, and her face slightly less interesting, I loved that “imperfection” but vanity got her. I know she’s not perfect, but she is a good person. The pressure of looking like this and that, it affects her, as much as it does me.

The cat, it is dead. It used it’s nine lives. It purred, jumped, screeched, scratched, played and made my life so good. But it’s gone now, his kidney failed him, and he had to go to sleep. But he reminds me of how someone, and something can be perfect to me, to you and to all.

Perfect is a vague word, it’s flawed and ever-changing. But it’s handy for a situation, a moment, a second,

when you’re truly happy, and all worries are gone, when someone looks indescribable, or it lands, hand in glove. Perfection, I’ve felt it, I’ve seen it, I’ve stroked it. But it never stays the same.

While he is sleeping

And when I am happy…

I watch him, laying on his side. his triangular upper body, his muscular arms, his buttocks like two bowling balls. His tree trunk thighs and nice chunky legs, his head with his beautiful hair. He breathes slowly, sturdy and silent.

When I am happy, and he is sleeping, I don’t mind being awake. When I am unhappy and he sleeps, I despise him out of envy. I want that peace, but now, I am glad, I want him to rest, because I am relaxing and breathing too, slowly, sturdy and silent.

It comforts him that I am up, Like a parent, staying up late. The TV is on and I do my work, and he wakes up occasionally, muttering loving phrases, “I love you, I do.” and, “Thank you, my love.” And I giggle, as he kicks with his feet, like a dog, when sleeping. It comforts me too, when I am happily sleeping, like a parent, watching over me, silently moving around and occasionally stroking me lovingly for a second or two.

When I am unhappy, and things are unsolved, I’m torn into pieces and pulling my hair, how can he sleep after things that were said? How is he not hearing my sniffles, my fast breathing and crying into my pillow. Why can’t I relax, and let him have it, let him have his rest. It isn’t his fault, and I wish I could do the same.

When he is sleeping… I get to watch the movies I want to watch, black and white movies, and romantic ones, stupid brainless stuff, and too brainy stuff. And as the most romantic lines are said, my eyes fill with tears and I look upon him, I have that, I have that love. Now, I will sleep too. ♥

Today I want to thank him for…

My dear sweet husband, today I want to thank you for;

  • Thanking me for cooking you dinner
  • Asking me for permission to play Madden
  • Letting me listen to the WHOLE new U2 album out loud in the living room
  • Seducing me before sex
  • Great sex with naughty talk
  • Working hard and making a lot of money today
  • Discussing with me the opportunity for a possible new job, before making any desicions
  • Giving me compliments
  • Being positive to me skipping the gym today
  • Being in a great mood pretty much all day even though you Went to school and then straight to work

I’m so proud and grateful. Thank you.

LW xx