The first person that introduced me to this song was Just Jules and I loved and laughed so hard I played it over and over while I was cleaning my room.
A few weeks ago Blogging Mama Andrea sent it to me and told me I should post it, since it DOES deal with relationships!
Well I'm here for you, I listen...
And this is a very inspirational song... don't let it fool you... sometimes it's better to pray for those who do you wrong :)
Hope you guys have an incredible weekend to celebrate our wonderful country, The United States of America!
We will continue posting again on Tuesday with relationship things.
Just one post in between to honor the holiday! So until Tuesday... I'll pray for you ;)
Shelle
Friday, July 2, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A Difference of Religion
Shelle Edit: H.K. is one of my favorite people and a long time blog friend. Her blog is about her family and her life. The post about her personal struggle with a recent loss is one of the first posts I remember crying over. She connects when she writes. She writes for solely herself. I thank her so much for writing this post. After you read her here, you should go and check out her own personal blog H.K. Weighs In.
When I first met my husband, we instantly clicked. Our first date didn’t have those awkward silent moments, where you wonder what you should talk about-we never ran out of things to say. We were constantly amazed at how many things we had in common, except for one thing; I was Mormon (member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) and he was a member of the
Pentecostal church.
However, we didn’t make the differences of our religion a prime focus on our relationship; instead we made a point of learning about each other’s beliefs and took turns going to each other’s churches on Sundays. And we continued that tradition even after we got married.
Some of our friends and family thought it was an unusual arrangement; there were a few who voiced their concern that I would leave the Mormon Church and my husband’s friends from his church voiced the same concern about him. It was an arrangement that worked for our relationship until I got pregnant.
I knew that continuing the arrangement of going to two churches that differed in their beliefs would be confusing for a child. We made it work when it was just the two of us, but would it work with our child?
I thought I had it all worked out and felt so proud that our relationship was strong despite the differences of our religious beliefs; would it continue to be strong if our child preferred one religion to another?
After many discussions, we came to the conclusion that we would continue with the arrangement even after our son was born. We wanted what was best for our child. We saw much good that came from each other’s religions and though we may have not agreed with some of the doctrines, in the end, we believed that what ever happened from our arrangement was meant to happen.
Several years into our marriage, I became very ill and it took me a few months to recover. When I became better, I was too weak to drive, so my husband decided that we would go to my church for awhile. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement- until my husband wanted to learn more about my church and asked the missionaries to teach him.
After several missionary discussions, my husband was converted to the Mormon church and a year later our family were sealed in the LDS temple (to understand more about LDS temple sealings go here)
I did not go into my marriage thinking that I would eventually convert my husband to my church nor did my husband. We loved each other very much and we knew that if we wanted peace and harmony in our marriage, we needed to make a more concerted effort to understand each other’s religious beliefs and most importantly, to respect them- even if we disagreed with some of the doctrine.
I’m not sure how our marriage would be if we were still practicing different religions. However, I’ve seen marriages still thrive even with different religious backgrounds and I’d like to believe that our marriage would have been one of them.
Do you think it's possible for relationships or marriages to be successful despite religious differences? How would you handle it?
H.K.
When I first met my husband, we instantly clicked. Our first date didn’t have those awkward silent moments, where you wonder what you should talk about-we never ran out of things to say. We were constantly amazed at how many things we had in common, except for one thing; I was Mormon (member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) and he was a member of the
Pentecostal church.
However, we didn’t make the differences of our religion a prime focus on our relationship; instead we made a point of learning about each other’s beliefs and took turns going to each other’s churches on Sundays. And we continued that tradition even after we got married.
Some of our friends and family thought it was an unusual arrangement; there were a few who voiced their concern that I would leave the Mormon Church and my husband’s friends from his church voiced the same concern about him. It was an arrangement that worked for our relationship until I got pregnant.
I knew that continuing the arrangement of going to two churches that differed in their beliefs would be confusing for a child. We made it work when it was just the two of us, but would it work with our child?
I thought I had it all worked out and felt so proud that our relationship was strong despite the differences of our religious beliefs; would it continue to be strong if our child preferred one religion to another?
After many discussions, we came to the conclusion that we would continue with the arrangement even after our son was born. We wanted what was best for our child. We saw much good that came from each other’s religions and though we may have not agreed with some of the doctrines, in the end, we believed that what ever happened from our arrangement was meant to happen.
Several years into our marriage, I became very ill and it took me a few months to recover. When I became better, I was too weak to drive, so my husband decided that we would go to my church for awhile. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement- until my husband wanted to learn more about my church and asked the missionaries to teach him.
After several missionary discussions, my husband was converted to the Mormon church and a year later our family were sealed in the LDS temple (to understand more about LDS temple sealings go here)
I did not go into my marriage thinking that I would eventually convert my husband to my church nor did my husband. We loved each other very much and we knew that if we wanted peace and harmony in our marriage, we needed to make a more concerted effort to understand each other’s religious beliefs and most importantly, to respect them- even if we disagreed with some of the doctrine.
I’m not sure how our marriage would be if we were still practicing different religions. However, I’ve seen marriages still thrive even with different religious backgrounds and I’d like to believe that our marriage would have been one of them.
Do you think it's possible for relationships or marriages to be successful despite religious differences? How would you handle it?
H.K.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
How NOT to deal with a Depressed WIFE!
How Not to Deal With A Depressed Wife
~ Anonymous
My husband has a set way of dealing with the bumps in the road of life:
1. Ignore it. It will go away.
2. Get angry with it.
3. Make a joke about it.
4. Repeat as necessary.
These techniques do not work when dealing with the bump that is depression. They especially do not work when the depressed bump is me.
I’ve had episodes of depression since 1977. I suffered with post-partum depression after my daughter was born. At that time it was just “baby-blues” and not much was thought about it. Difficult financial situations, the rigors of working full-time, caring for home and child and that my husband had to travel for his job, all took their toll.
During the years between my daughter’s birth and 2004, his techniques for dealing with life were accepted and somewhat dealt with by me. After all, I was busy! Since my depression came and went and wasn’t really interfering with my own life, his attitude, his inability to communicate on any quality level didn’t really cause me much concern. You can get used to anything after awhile, I think.
It wasn’t until 2004 that I started to become clinically depressed. It was this year that my husband quit his job of 18 years, started his own business, against my very adamant objections, my pleadings and my well thought out 2 year plan. I began to realize that his less than adequate communication skills extended to listening and/or reasoning skills as well. In 2006, I was diagnosed with clinical depression by the psychologist I started to see in desperate need of someone to talk to and who would talk to me.
During the intervening years, as our 401K’s, retirement funds, home equity, credit, and quality of life were decimated; my depression became deeper and permanent. His way of dealing with me and life never wavered. Numbers 1 through 3 are in constant rotation. Getting angry with a depressed person will only cause the person to become more withdrawn, more hopeless and increasingly angry. My anger is ever present and many times irrational. Living with a depressed person can be trying for the most
compassionate, understanding human being. But if you lack empathy and you cannot/will not try to understand what the sick person is trying to cope with, getting angry or dismissing the person’s condition will only produce more resentment and anger.
If you joke about depression to someone who is sitting at the bottom of the abyss, they don’t really get it. I can’t tell you how many times his silliness has made me consider punching him right in the nos. After trying to get across the seriousness of any random situation I might encounter, his attempts to lighten the atmosphere isn’t well received – ever!
Before you think that I am just sitting around wallowing in my misery, let me assure you, I have sought help. I’m on medication. Being on anti-depressants helps in many ways but has side-effects. One of the side-effects I have is that I’ve lost all sexual desire. Decreased libido is a common complaint from people on anti-depressant medication. I cannot say if it’s because of the medication or because of my loss of respect (love?) for my husband. I’m thinking it may be a combination of both. This also causes anger.
His anger because I’m not interested in sex and my anger because this pleasure has been taken away from me.
My husband’s ability to ignore things and act as though life is fine is probably the most irritating trait he has. Part of that attitude, I believe, is that if you don’t do anything, you don’t have to accept responsibility. This means, that I must make the decisions. Therefore, if a decision isn’t correct, I take the blame. Adding guilt and a sense of failure to an already depressed, ill-coping psyche can only exacerbate my dread and hopelessness.
Because of my husband’s inability and/or unwillingness to understand my problem, his #1 Dealing with Life Rule is going to prove true. I will go away.
*Image was taken from this site.
~ Anonymous
My husband has a set way of dealing with the bumps in the road of life:
1. Ignore it. It will go away.
2. Get angry with it.
3. Make a joke about it.
4. Repeat as necessary.
These techniques do not work when dealing with the bump that is depression. They especially do not work when the depressed bump is me.
I’ve had episodes of depression since 1977. I suffered with post-partum depression after my daughter was born. At that time it was just “baby-blues” and not much was thought about it. Difficult financial situations, the rigors of working full-time, caring for home and child and that my husband had to travel for his job, all took their toll.
During the years between my daughter’s birth and 2004, his techniques for dealing with life were accepted and somewhat dealt with by me. After all, I was busy! Since my depression came and went and wasn’t really interfering with my own life, his attitude, his inability to communicate on any quality level didn’t really cause me much concern. You can get used to anything after awhile, I think.
During the intervening years, as our 401K’s, retirement funds, home equity, credit, and quality of life were decimated; my depression became deeper and permanent. His way of dealing with me and life never wavered. Numbers 1 through 3 are in constant rotation. Getting angry with a depressed person will only cause the person to become more withdrawn, more hopeless and increasingly angry. My anger is ever present and many times irrational. Living with a depressed person can be trying for the most
compassionate, understanding human being. But if you lack empathy and you cannot/will not try to understand what the sick person is trying to cope with, getting angry or dismissing the person’s condition will only produce more resentment and anger.
If you joke about depression to someone who is sitting at the bottom of the abyss, they don’t really get it. I can’t tell you how many times his silliness has made me consider punching him right in the nos. After trying to get across the seriousness of any random situation I might encounter, his attempts to lighten the atmosphere isn’t well received – ever!
Before you think that I am just sitting around wallowing in my misery, let me assure you, I have sought help. I’m on medication. Being on anti-depressants helps in many ways but has side-effects. One of the side-effects I have is that I’ve lost all sexual desire. Decreased libido is a common complaint from people on anti-depressant medication. I cannot say if it’s because of the medication or because of my loss of respect (love?) for my husband. I’m thinking it may be a combination of both. This also causes anger.
His anger because I’m not interested in sex and my anger because this pleasure has been taken away from me.
My husband’s ability to ignore things and act as though life is fine is probably the most irritating trait he has. Part of that attitude, I believe, is that if you don’t do anything, you don’t have to accept responsibility. This means, that I must make the decisions. Therefore, if a decision isn’t correct, I take the blame. Adding guilt and a sense of failure to an already depressed, ill-coping psyche can only exacerbate my dread and hopelessness.
Because of my husband’s inability and/or unwillingness to understand my problem, his #1 Dealing with Life Rule is going to prove true. I will go away.
*Image was taken from this site.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Raising children on a united front? Not really...
For the longest time I never wanted to have children, so much so, that it was one of (the many) the deciding factors in my first marriage ending in divorce. Having a baby was something I never envisioned myself doing. Being a mother was not something that I thought I could do. I had a mother who was detached and unavailable my entire young life. She could not be bothered with me. Have you heard the expression benign neglect . . . this would be a fitting description of her treatment of me. Because of her, I never wanted to have children. I never wanted to have children because I thought I would be like her. I had numerous friends and mentors tell me that it would not be the case. But still I was adamant that I would never have a child.
Until I met my husband . . .
I fell instantly and deeply in love with my husband and he with me. We had a whirlwind romance, engagement and marriage all happening in a two year span. We traveled, we laughed, we had loads of fun and through all of this, I did everything for him. Literally . . . everything. I made him
breakfast, I packed his lunch, I made gourmet dinner (almost every night), I washed and folded and put away all his clothes. I cleaned up after him and his messes. I packed for him on every business trip and he traveled a lot! He never had to worry about one single thing. If he needed something; I was at his beck and call.
I got pregnant shortly after we were married and our first child was born before we even celebrated our first wedding anniversary. I was 34 years old and my husband was 39. I had a horrible birth story and ended up having a C-Sect and a very slow recovery. My husband remained home the first week to help out and my best friend (from FL) came to help me out as well. My new husband was not used to me not at his 'beck and call' but at this new baby's beck and call. He was mad that I invited my best friend to help me instead of his 68-year-old mother. And I discovered that my husband didn't even know where anything was in our house. We had our first disagreement over our son during that first week home from the hospital. My best friend left after two days and I banished his mother from my house. She came over for 6 hours and wouldn't let me have my son when he was screaming his head off because she could not stop messing around with him (up, down, unwrapped, rewrapped, hat on, hat off, up, down and repeat). . . it was traumatic to watch.
After the one-week was up, my husband returned to work. The night prior as had happened every night since we were home, little baby boy screamed his bloody head off if I set him down. I was exhausted since this had been going on for one week already and hubbie had been sleeping
peacefully each of those evenings. I was never able to nap during the day with new baby because everyone kept calling and 'dropping' by (before MIL banishment). If I did happen to fall asleep, everyone thought it was perfectly fine to march right into my bedroom and wake me up. I was exhausted!
So baby boy was screaming, I was rocking him and my husband stands up and shouts at me to get the hell out of our bedroom because he had to work in the morning. Our second argument began that evening. I kicked him out the bedroom and said a few choice words to him in the process.
Thus began our new daily routine of me worshiping this new baby and my husband taking a back seat . . . a place where he was not used to sitting. He was resentful and jealous of the baby and I was mad at him for not trying to bond with our new baby. We quickly discovered that we did not have the same parenting ideas and notions mulling about in our heads.
The first year was tough for us, this self-discovery of parenting skills . . . I discovered I absolutely was nothing like my own mother and I couldn't get enough of my son. I discovered having a baby was the best decision I had ever made in my life. My husband struggles quite a bit the first year of parenthood. He had notions about the sleeping arrangements that didn't match mine. He had ideas about breastfeeding that didn't match mine. His notions and ideas came from his mother and mine came from reading books and my own instincts.
My mother-in-law told me that I was letting our son win every time I picked him up when he cried or didn't put him down at night in a crib and that I should never let him sleep in my arms throughout the night. I just agreed with her, as I learned was the best route for my sanity. But frankly, I didn't think I was in a competition with my newborn son. If he wanted me to hold him, I was going to. If he needed me to hold him, I was going to. If he
cried, I was going to pick him up. I didn't think my baby was winning anything if he cried to be picked up. He was crying for some reason and he stopped when I picked him up. He was happy and I was happy to do it!
By the time my son celebrated his first birthday my husband and I had sort of come to an agreement. He was swaying more towards my parenting ideas and less towards his mothers. I was pregnant again and we were settling into parenthood. My husband still struggled with being a father and a husband. It was difficult for him to distinguish himself as both and it was very difficult for him to share his wife with his son. I did my best to make him
feel as important as I used too, but it was not as easy for me. I stopped making him breakfast, I forgot to make lunches a lot, gourmet dinners were replaced with quick easy dinners and I had him help me pack for his numerous business trips.
When our second child was born, a daughter, I thought my husband would ease into this baby much better. He did not. Simply put, my husband is not comfortable with babies. We were still having issues with his very intrusive mother and he was caught in the middle. I felt bad for him but stood firm in my beliefs that we were the parents and not his mother. I loved having a new baby again and a small child at home with me. I was probably the happiest I had ever been in my life. I was with my children 24 hours a day. I never let them out of my sight. I never allowed anyone to babysit for my children and was happy to change each and every single diaper. My husband still struggled with being a parent to not just one baby, but a toddler and a baby. We discovered that he was a one-child parent and this broke my heart because I so wanted another baby.
My husband traveled so much with his job that he was only home about two weeks out of every month. The parenting decisions were really my decisions and since he was not ever home I really didn't consider any of his input, not that he really offered any parenting input anyway. We moved to China when our daughter was a year and a half and we saw even less of him. I was basically a single parent with two small children in a country where no one spoke any English and it was basically sink or swim for me. I dove headfirst into the expat community and found a niche for my small family. During this time, my husband grew estranged from our children. He was virtually a stranger to them and acted as such. It was a very sad thing to witness and I was constantly after him to do this or that with our son or our daughter, but he just simply didn't have the time and I thought he didn't care.
I became pregnant again while residing in China and we returned home, as I didn't want to have another baby in another country. I forced my husband to take another position within his company, one that did not have any travel. No traveling . . . none! The first year home was a wonderful year, we were happy to be home, I was over the moon to be pregnant again and the children loved having their father around. My husband really focused on being a good father to our children that year. He re-bonded and reconnected with our son and our daughter.
Our second daughter was born that summer and once again I had a slow recovery due to C-Sect number three. My husband really stepped up and helped out with this baby. He discovered new babies are not as hard as he thought they were. He discovered babies stop crying if you hold and snuggle them just right. He discovered a newfound love he didn't know he had for this new little baby, our third child.
Over the past couple of years, my husband no longer takes a back seat with parenting. The parent who now struggles is me . . . I had the sole responsibility of parenting our children and now sharing that responsibility is not easy for me. I am a marshmallow. My husband is not. He yells. I do not. He sets punishments that are too strict. I undo those punishments. When the children do something wrong he is off shouting and lecturing. I am holding my babies, trying to protect them from his rules that I think are entirely too strict. He is firm and I am silly. He expects his requests to be followed immediately and I will tell my children all day long to do one simple task and later end up doing it myself. He thinks I spoil our children and I
think you can't love a child enough. He thinks I am too soft and I think he is too hard.
If the children do something, I try to hide it from him. I know this is wrong, but I just can't listen to another lecture from my husband about what a wimp I am. I don't consider myself that in the least. I just choose to speak to my children in a tone that is completely different from his and my punishments are much different from his. We are at an impasse right now in regards to our parenting styles. I don't think we will ever meet in the middle. People are different. We are different. Parenting may be one of the toughest jobs in the world. My husband and I are not a united front in raising our children. I don't know if we ever will be.
Tiaras & Tantrums
Until I met my husband . . .
I fell instantly and deeply in love with my husband and he with me. We had a whirlwind romance, engagement and marriage all happening in a two year span. We traveled, we laughed, we had loads of fun and through all of this, I did everything for him. Literally . . . everything. I made him
breakfast, I packed his lunch, I made gourmet dinner (almost every night), I washed and folded and put away all his clothes. I cleaned up after him and his messes. I packed for him on every business trip and he traveled a lot! He never had to worry about one single thing. If he needed something; I was at his beck and call.
I got pregnant shortly after we were married and our first child was born before we even celebrated our first wedding anniversary. I was 34 years old and my husband was 39. I had a horrible birth story and ended up having a C-Sect and a very slow recovery. My husband remained home the first week to help out and my best friend (from FL) came to help me out as well. My new husband was not used to me not at his 'beck and call' but at this new baby's beck and call. He was mad that I invited my best friend to help me instead of his 68-year-old mother. And I discovered that my husband didn't even know where anything was in our house. We had our first disagreement over our son during that first week home from the hospital. My best friend left after two days and I banished his mother from my house. She came over for 6 hours and wouldn't let me have my son when he was screaming his head off because she could not stop messing around with him (up, down, unwrapped, rewrapped, hat on, hat off, up, down and repeat). . . it was traumatic to watch.
After the one-week was up, my husband returned to work. The night prior as had happened every night since we were home, little baby boy screamed his bloody head off if I set him down. I was exhausted since this had been going on for one week already and hubbie had been sleeping
peacefully each of those evenings. I was never able to nap during the day with new baby because everyone kept calling and 'dropping' by (before MIL banishment). If I did happen to fall asleep, everyone thought it was perfectly fine to march right into my bedroom and wake me up. I was exhausted!
So baby boy was screaming, I was rocking him and my husband stands up and shouts at me to get the hell out of our bedroom because he had to work in the morning. Our second argument began that evening. I kicked him out the bedroom and said a few choice words to him in the process.
Thus began our new daily routine of me worshiping this new baby and my husband taking a back seat . . . a place where he was not used to sitting. He was resentful and jealous of the baby and I was mad at him for not trying to bond with our new baby. We quickly discovered that we did not have the same parenting ideas and notions mulling about in our heads.
The first year was tough for us, this self-discovery of parenting skills . . . I discovered I absolutely was nothing like my own mother and I couldn't get enough of my son. I discovered having a baby was the best decision I had ever made in my life. My husband struggles quite a bit the first year of parenthood. He had notions about the sleeping arrangements that didn't match mine. He had ideas about breastfeeding that didn't match mine. His notions and ideas came from his mother and mine came from reading books and my own instincts.
My mother-in-law told me that I was letting our son win every time I picked him up when he cried or didn't put him down at night in a crib and that I should never let him sleep in my arms throughout the night. I just agreed with her, as I learned was the best route for my sanity. But frankly, I didn't think I was in a competition with my newborn son. If he wanted me to hold him, I was going to. If he needed me to hold him, I was going to. If he
cried, I was going to pick him up. I didn't think my baby was winning anything if he cried to be picked up. He was crying for some reason and he stopped when I picked him up. He was happy and I was happy to do it!
By the time my son celebrated his first birthday my husband and I had sort of come to an agreement. He was swaying more towards my parenting ideas and less towards his mothers. I was pregnant again and we were settling into parenthood. My husband still struggled with being a father and a husband. It was difficult for him to distinguish himself as both and it was very difficult for him to share his wife with his son. I did my best to make him
feel as important as I used too, but it was not as easy for me. I stopped making him breakfast, I forgot to make lunches a lot, gourmet dinners were replaced with quick easy dinners and I had him help me pack for his numerous business trips.
When our second child was born, a daughter, I thought my husband would ease into this baby much better. He did not. Simply put, my husband is not comfortable with babies. We were still having issues with his very intrusive mother and he was caught in the middle. I felt bad for him but stood firm in my beliefs that we were the parents and not his mother. I loved having a new baby again and a small child at home with me. I was probably the happiest I had ever been in my life. I was with my children 24 hours a day. I never let them out of my sight. I never allowed anyone to babysit for my children and was happy to change each and every single diaper. My husband still struggled with being a parent to not just one baby, but a toddler and a baby. We discovered that he was a one-child parent and this broke my heart because I so wanted another baby.
My husband traveled so much with his job that he was only home about two weeks out of every month. The parenting decisions were really my decisions and since he was not ever home I really didn't consider any of his input, not that he really offered any parenting input anyway. We moved to China when our daughter was a year and a half and we saw even less of him. I was basically a single parent with two small children in a country where no one spoke any English and it was basically sink or swim for me. I dove headfirst into the expat community and found a niche for my small family. During this time, my husband grew estranged from our children. He was virtually a stranger to them and acted as such. It was a very sad thing to witness and I was constantly after him to do this or that with our son or our daughter, but he just simply didn't have the time and I thought he didn't care.
I became pregnant again while residing in China and we returned home, as I didn't want to have another baby in another country. I forced my husband to take another position within his company, one that did not have any travel. No traveling . . . none! The first year home was a wonderful year, we were happy to be home, I was over the moon to be pregnant again and the children loved having their father around. My husband really focused on being a good father to our children that year. He re-bonded and reconnected with our son and our daughter.
Our second daughter was born that summer and once again I had a slow recovery due to C-Sect number three. My husband really stepped up and helped out with this baby. He discovered new babies are not as hard as he thought they were. He discovered babies stop crying if you hold and snuggle them just right. He discovered a newfound love he didn't know he had for this new little baby, our third child.
Over the past couple of years, my husband no longer takes a back seat with parenting. The parent who now struggles is me . . . I had the sole responsibility of parenting our children and now sharing that responsibility is not easy for me. I am a marshmallow. My husband is not. He yells. I do not. He sets punishments that are too strict. I undo those punishments. When the children do something wrong he is off shouting and lecturing. I am holding my babies, trying to protect them from his rules that I think are entirely too strict. He is firm and I am silly. He expects his requests to be followed immediately and I will tell my children all day long to do one simple task and later end up doing it myself. He thinks I spoil our children and I
think you can't love a child enough. He thinks I am too soft and I think he is too hard.
If the children do something, I try to hide it from him. I know this is wrong, but I just can't listen to another lecture from my husband about what a wimp I am. I don't consider myself that in the least. I just choose to speak to my children in a tone that is completely different from his and my punishments are much different from his. We are at an impasse right now in regards to our parenting styles. I don't think we will ever meet in the middle. People are different. We are different. Parenting may be one of the toughest jobs in the world. My husband and I are not a united front in raising our children. I don't know if we ever will be.
Tiaras & Tantrums
Friday, June 25, 2010
What Would You Rather Episode 7
What Would You Rather--I know sometimes it's hard to choose. But play along and try and choose one and explain why you chose that one in the comments!
1) Would you rather marry someone who is funny OR someone who can sing?
2) Would you rather have really awesome friends OR your dream someone?
3) Would you rather run into your spouses ex OR yours?
Now tell us in comments--comment on other peoples comments--and feel free to say it Anonymously if that is more comfortable!
p.s. All questions were found on THIS website.
1) Would you rather marry someone who is funny OR someone who can sing?
2) Would you rather have really awesome friends OR your dream someone?
3) Would you rather run into your spouses ex OR yours?
Now tell us in comments--comment on other peoples comments--and feel free to say it Anonymously if that is more comfortable!
p.s. All questions were found on THIS website.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
From Spreasheets to Mom Sheets
Sage here, re-posting because this post got very few hits and is so well written we were not sure if y'all had seen it, so if you haven't read up, if you don't Shelle will hunt you down and do a titty twister on you.
Shelle Edit: Tiara's and Tantrums writes so well. You will confirm this after you read this piece. As I engrossed myself in her blog I love that she does reviews and giveaways, but has still not lost her personal touch on her blog. Also... on her profile pic... she has the most beautiful red hair... you know the color I try to get out of a bottle? Yea, beautiful. I appreciate her so much writing this piece! Please go follow her over at Tiara's and Tantrums.
I was a Senior Financial Analyst awhile ago . . . I used to manage budgets in the billions, to the exact penny. I was involved in negotiating corporate call-outs. I could create a Balance Sheet like no other in my department. My P&L reports were flawless . . . every single time. I would balance budgets across the nations, throughout North America, South America, Europe, and Asia-Pac. My turnkey reports were some of my finest works and my automated financial reports were amazing and I am sure are still being used. I could quote you GAAP and FASB rules verbatim and my Financial Roadmap was set.
I learned early on to take the maximum percentage out of my paycheck and put it into retirement. I invested any extra money I had and used the just rewards to purchase my first town house. I was house poor for a couple of years, but I still put away 15% of my salary. I never splurged on anything and during that poor house period, I did not purchase one pair of shoes or any new clothing . . . at all. I bought only necessary items and my bank account grew. I was pleased with myself for being diligent at work and at home with my finances and my employer's finances.
When I met my husband, he was like minded as myself with money. Even more frugal than myself I would say. We complemented each other. Neither he nor I had ever had a late payment; we each went through our bills and paid them in a timely manner. When we married, I moved into his duplex and sold my townhouse. The money was put into my savings account for the new house we were looking to purchase together.
We found a lovely site to build our dream house on. Because we had each lived frugally, we were able to purchase the lovely home of our dreams. The profit from the sale of my townhouse and the sale of his duplex gave us a large down payment on the home we now reside in.
My husband had a wonderful job. I had a wonderful job. I was pregnant and had no plans to leave said wonderful job. Until the baby was born, my son. I couldn't return to this company that I had worked so hard for and leave my little baby. Thankfully, my husband agreed that I would stay home. Obviously our finances took a huge hit and our lifestyle changed drastically. No more impromptu trips to where ever we wanted to go for a long weekend. No more following my husband to Europe on a holiday after a business trip. No more weekend trips to the city with delicious dinners being devoured. There simply was no excess cash flow as there had been with two good salaries.
Through all of this my husband and I had maintained separate bank accounts. He paid all the household bills and I took care of groceries and myself and our son. I was able to live off my savings for a year after I quit my job. I recall when the time came, I needed to tell my husband that I didn't have any more money and that he would need to start giving me some of his. I was not happy about this moment in my life because I had always taken care of myself. But ask him I did. He was happy to add me to his bank accounts and give me a credit card and an ATM card. (or so I thought)
During the first month of use I felt guilty spending my husbands money but my best friend told me to (literally) suck it up and spend away. My husband agreed to take care of me when he married me and that I had every right to purchase (within reason) what I needed and desired. I bought a new pair of sandals. What I didn't know, he was checking on line with the credit card to see what was purchased (what I was purchasing). He called me at home one afternoon to 'review' some purchases I had made (the sandals and some baby stuff). My best friend was there and witnessed this conversation. I was embarrassed and she was angry.
We obviously had a few discussions regarding this new money position that we were in and it took us awhile to get in the groove together . . . this sharing of 'his' money. He still refers to our bank account as his and states that everything is purchased with his money. But I can live with that.
My husband decided that since I was once a Financial Analyst that I should take over the balancing of accounts and such. Since that moment he has completely forgotten how to write a check (unless for himself), record a check, record ATM withdrawals or balance a checkbook. This is aggravating and frustrating to me, as I don't think the financial responsibility of our household should be 100% on my shoulders just because I have a degree in Finance.
However, I was quite diligent in my household with regard to our finances. I had forecast sheets for everything . . . literally, everything. We were still (and currently are so as well) saving the maximum amount for retirement and putting more away for stocks, college fund and savings. I had another baby and still my spreadsheets prevailed. We moved to China (in 2005) and we had to make due with a cash only country. In yuan(Chinese currency) no less. My spreadsheets were doomed . . . my forecasts were forgotten. I couldn't keep track of the money I spent because I barely knew what amount I was spending.
We returned to the US after residing in China for one year and (literally) living a cash only life. It is a strange adjustment and interesting lifestyle, but a good one I might add. I had another baby and never quite picked up my spreadsheets again. I haven't balanced my checkbook in almost a year. Sadly, I haven't opened any bank statements of any sort in over a year as well. I couldn't tell you how much money we have in stocks or IRAs any more unless I dug through a drawer. Frankly, it is too depressing. We have lost more money in stocks than I care to ever think about again. I know my husband doesn't even know what drawer to look in for these unopened statements. He doesn't even know the password to our online bank account.
All our bills are set up to auto pay because if they are not, I forget to pay them. I once paid the phone bill the amount I was to pay the cable bill and that was already three months past due. My phone bill was paid in advance for one full year and I was still over due on my cable bill! I sent my last property tax bill to the correct address, but the incorrect zip code. It went unpaid for three months without me even knowing it! I laughed about it because, really, who does that? (the only reason I found out was my bank deposited the amount back into my account because the check was never cashed).
It's shameful and I keep telling myself that I must get back on my financial game plan personally. But I lost interest in numbers somewhere along the line while having babies. I hope that I can find my numerical groove again soon. I need to for my children's sake. Because I have little regard for money matters these days, they do not as well. This is bad, very bad. Here I am . . . a former Senior Financial Analyst turned SAHM who can't balance a checkbook anymore . . . how sad is that?
Tiaras & Tantrums
Shelle Edit: Tiara's and Tantrums writes so well. You will confirm this after you read this piece. As I engrossed myself in her blog I love that she does reviews and giveaways, but has still not lost her personal touch on her blog. Also... on her profile pic... she has the most beautiful red hair... you know the color I try to get out of a bottle? Yea, beautiful. I appreciate her so much writing this piece! Please go follow her over at Tiara's and Tantrums.
I was a Senior Financial Analyst awhile ago . . . I used to manage budgets in the billions, to the exact penny. I was involved in negotiating corporate call-outs. I could create a Balance Sheet like no other in my department. My P&L reports were flawless . . . every single time. I would balance budgets across the nations, throughout North America, South America, Europe, and Asia-Pac. My turnkey reports were some of my finest works and my automated financial reports were amazing and I am sure are still being used. I could quote you GAAP and FASB rules verbatim and my Financial Roadmap was set.
When I met my husband, he was like minded as myself with money. Even more frugal than myself I would say. We complemented each other. Neither he nor I had ever had a late payment; we each went through our bills and paid them in a timely manner. When we married, I moved into his duplex and sold my townhouse. The money was put into my savings account for the new house we were looking to purchase together.
We found a lovely site to build our dream house on. Because we had each lived frugally, we were able to purchase the lovely home of our dreams. The profit from the sale of my townhouse and the sale of his duplex gave us a large down payment on the home we now reside in.
My husband had a wonderful job. I had a wonderful job. I was pregnant and had no plans to leave said wonderful job. Until the baby was born, my son. I couldn't return to this company that I had worked so hard for and leave my little baby. Thankfully, my husband agreed that I would stay home. Obviously our finances took a huge hit and our lifestyle changed drastically. No more impromptu trips to where ever we wanted to go for a long weekend. No more following my husband to Europe on a holiday after a business trip. No more weekend trips to the city with delicious dinners being devoured. There simply was no excess cash flow as there had been with two good salaries.
During the first month of use I felt guilty spending my husbands money but my best friend told me to (literally) suck it up and spend away. My husband agreed to take care of me when he married me and that I had every right to purchase (within reason) what I needed and desired. I bought a new pair of sandals. What I didn't know, he was checking on line with the credit card to see what was purchased (what I was purchasing). He called me at home one afternoon to 'review' some purchases I had made (the sandals and some baby stuff). My best friend was there and witnessed this conversation. I was embarrassed and she was angry.
We obviously had a few discussions regarding this new money position that we were in and it took us awhile to get in the groove together . . . this sharing of 'his' money. He still refers to our bank account as his and states that everything is purchased with his money. But I can live with that.
My husband decided that since I was once a Financial Analyst that I should take over the balancing of accounts and such. Since that moment he has completely forgotten how to write a check (unless for himself), record a check, record ATM withdrawals or balance a checkbook. This is aggravating and frustrating to me, as I don't think the financial responsibility of our household should be 100% on my shoulders just because I have a degree in Finance.
However, I was quite diligent in my household with regard to our finances. I had forecast sheets for everything . . . literally, everything. We were still (and currently are so as well) saving the maximum amount for retirement and putting more away for stocks, college fund and savings. I had another baby and still my spreadsheets prevailed. We moved to China (in 2005) and we had to make due with a cash only country. In yuan(Chinese currency) no less. My spreadsheets were doomed . . . my forecasts were forgotten. I couldn't keep track of the money I spent because I barely knew what amount I was spending.
We returned to the US after residing in China for one year and (literally) living a cash only life. It is a strange adjustment and interesting lifestyle, but a good one I might add. I had another baby and never quite picked up my spreadsheets again. I haven't balanced my checkbook in almost a year. Sadly, I haven't opened any bank statements of any sort in over a year as well. I couldn't tell you how much money we have in stocks or IRAs any more unless I dug through a drawer. Frankly, it is too depressing. We have lost more money in stocks than I care to ever think about again. I know my husband doesn't even know what drawer to look in for these unopened statements. He doesn't even know the password to our online bank account.
All our bills are set up to auto pay because if they are not, I forget to pay them. I once paid the phone bill the amount I was to pay the cable bill and that was already three months past due. My phone bill was paid in advance for one full year and I was still over due on my cable bill! I sent my last property tax bill to the correct address, but the incorrect zip code. It went unpaid for three months without me even knowing it! I laughed about it because, really, who does that? (the only reason I found out was my bank deposited the amount back into my account because the check was never cashed).
It's shameful and I keep telling myself that I must get back on my financial game plan personally. But I lost interest in numbers somewhere along the line while having babies. I hope that I can find my numerical groove again soon. I need to for my children's sake. Because I have little regard for money matters these days, they do not as well. This is bad, very bad. Here I am . . . a former Senior Financial Analyst turned SAHM who can't balance a checkbook anymore . . . how sad is that?
Tiaras & Tantrums
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
What a Cluster...headache.
Shelle Edit: RedNeck Latte is new to me. The time I spent on his blog, however, I became much more educated. The guy knows his history and it's entertaining! Can you believe it? I didn't even snooze... not once! I'm so happy he wanted to write on such a tough subject. So take the time to read his blog and see what he has to say over at Red Neck Latte. After you read this well written post on his blight with depression.
But after the initial bout with depression, the cluster headaches started UP. I suffer from Horton’s Syndrome. It is a form of Classic Chronic Cluster Headaches usually found in men. In the rare cases when women have them, they often say it’s as bad as childbirth. I won’t make that claim, I’ve never given birth, I’m a man, and that would be presumptuous.
Ah, depression – anger turned in on oneself.
Seriously, that’s what the ‘experts’ say.
And there are days, I agree.
I suffer from depression from time to time. The first event was immediately after my first heart-attack. I’ve had four. Apparently fried foods and cigarettes are bad for you. Who knew? There should have been a report back in the 60s or something. You know, some advice from a doctor or panel of them. Hmmm.
At any rate, depression hits me from time to time. After the first HA, I was terribly depressed and didn’t realize what was going on. No one, not one doctor, nurse, aide, tech, no one – told me, “Hey, you’re gonna feel like crap.”
But I did.
After speaking to my cardiologist, he realized what was going on and sent me to a counselor. It helped.
Depression comes in many forms, and from many places. This is my story, it may not be yours. You alone can decide where yours comes from.
The pain is excruciating. And comes out of nowhere. No real warning, just a slight burning in the nose and then Bang! There they are.
They are unilateral, one side of the face and all. And they are really not headaches, but face aches. My teeth hurt, my nose burns, my tongue burns, and my head throbs.
I have one now. It’s slight, and it’s under control, but I caught it fast.
The real cause isn’t known. But there are things that exacerbate them. All the things that are supposed to be healthy for me do the trick. Avocados, walnuts, strong cheeses, DARK CHOCOLATE, coffee, all the things I love, many of the things that are good for me. They make them kick in.
And stress.
Some last for a few minutes. I take OTC pain killers, a mix of Excedrin, Tylenol, and Advil along pure oxygen from a tank and with an ice pack on my face, and I can usually get them to go away.
The worst one lasted for 57 days. It was horrid. I wound UP in the ER.
The headache pain and experience is depressing, and we Cluster heads call it “dancing with the devil”.
You have suicidal thoughts. It would just be easier to die than live like this.
After the headaches subside, or go away completely, the depression kicks in. I don’t know if it’s that way for everyone, but for me, it’s deep, dark, and devastating.
The anger gets turned inward. For years, no one, and I mean NO ONE believed I was in as much pain as I was.
I was “emotionally fragile”, overstating it, being weak. Faking it.
But I was in pain, and I was depressed.
And even now, when they go away, I get dark, I get depressed.
Therapy helped. The doctor I saw showed me a few “tricks” to use on myself to bring me out of the funk that the headaches leave me in. I refused medicine. I have an aversion to alcohol or any possibly addictive drug, so I steered clear of all that.
Walking helps. With cluster headaches, a dark room, quiet, solitude: they don’t do the trick. There has to be light, noise, action, movement. So I walk, I read, I write.
And I talk. Talk to anyone who will listen, keep company, and keep the dark thoughts away. I usually try to steer clear of telling the listener what’s going on with me, it just scares them off. And I need them.
I need the interaction. I need the company, I need the comfort. I need to avoid the anger. I need to keep from turning on myself.
So, talk to me, tell me your story, hell, tell me a lie. I don’t care. Listen, and talk.
See, the headache is gone. Time for some happy thoughts!
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