Friday, April 25, 2008


When I was in college, I attended two spiritual/religious retreats. A special part of those retreats were letters called "Pallancas." They were meant to be pulleys/levers to bring up the spirit. I guess a part of me is seeking that with my Wondering post.

I thank all of you who responded and for those who didn't but have left me comments in the past - you have provided me many pallancas, unknowningly, for all most two years. I value your words more than I can say.

The other reason for that post is that lately, I feel slighted, judged, and misplaced. Not by anyone has commented here. But, in other blogs, with family, by life and I don't know where I belong. I am far from over this thing called infertility. And yet, I don't belong with people deep in the trenches. I didn't go as far as IVF - eventhough I feel like I've felt my fair share of pain. My problem is when anyone tries to compare or quantify pain - I tend to loose. But, alas, isn't that my problem.

My mind keeps on going back to last August and my Grandfather's funeral. My Aunt was talking to my Grandfather's sister-in-law (his second marriage). They were talking about her pending grandchild. How she waited a long while for her daughter, and my Aunt chimes in "It took my daughter a while too." I couldn't help it, my eyes bugged out of my head and I was nearly yelling, "Really that was a long time! She has a beautiful boy in her arms in less than a year. But that was a long time!" But instead I stayed quiet and I let the quantification occur because she had an early miscarriage.

Later the next day, when we were burying our Grandfather, we passed a beautiful statue. (I wish I had a photo.) It was in memorium of all children who were miscarried. My cousin made a comment because she wanted to vocalize her pain.

I yearned for a place to mourn the children of my dreams. But did it in silence. Those scenes replay in my head. I sometimes feel that they are in constant replay.

This blog, from its creation, has been the place for my mourning. Please don't take this offensively, because I am very appreciative of this space. But I am only allowed to mourn with strangers. I've never been allowed to have a service or even talk about it with my mother and not have it all about me.

Goodness, what was suppose to be a post to thank, it has turned into a post of "woes is me."

Sadly, I can't explain it - but here I don't have too. Here I can say, thank you for listening to me. Thank you for being my pallancas in this place of great solitude. Thank you for allowing me to grieve without quanitification or judgment.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

So funny I had to share!

The Wife's Bill of Rights
By Jill Adler
We, the wives of America, love being married to the husbands of America. We know we have our faults, but with our ever-morphing roles these days, there's a lot of pressure on us to be superhuman. We care for our families, manage the home, keep ourselves attractive, and even bring home our shares of the bacon. We know we sometimes lash out, but we really do want to "live happily ever after" with you. Our mutual acknowledgement of these amendments can go a long way toward achieving that.
Amendment I
We have the right to dislike your buddies.
We know it's important for you to have your guy friends, but you should know by now that we're not turned on by your stories of the good old days at college, your sexual exploits, or which relief pitcher the Red Sox should trade. Disappear for a while and be boys—it's OK, go chug beer and high-five—but please don't expect us to be happy when your friends come over and put their feet on our coffee tables or leave their beer cans on the floor.
Amendment II
We have the right to experience PMS in all its glory.
Either give us our space or accept the consequences. We know it's unfair, but some of us just can't rein it in. You knew that before you married us. We may shout, cry, belittle, act irrationally. It lasts a few days each month, so please deal with it. Or even better: Bring home dinner, clear the dishes, and give us a big hug.
Amendment III
We have the right to demand you finish a household job.
We're not your mothers, and we loathe having to act like them. If you wash the dishes, do them all and clean the sink, too. Don't just bag the trash, take it outside to the bin. If you start a load of laundry, put it in the dryer and fold it too. We don't like nagging any more than you like hearing it.
Amendment IV
We have the right to an honest answer to "What's wrong?"
We admit guilt in this area too, but "Nothing" says nothing. If we ask, it's not because we're trying to make casual conversation. It's because we love you and need an honest answer. If there truly is nothing wrong, then ask why we think otherwise. Yes, this could open a can of worms, but remember when we dated and talked about everything?
Amendment V
We have the right to keep our secrets.
Not marriage-ending ones, just small secrets we choose to hide from others. If we don't want to speak our age or share our true hair color or reveal the cheesy TV shows we watch in private, it's not your place to reveal them to our friends, your business partners, or your ex-girlfriends/wives. We're not asking you to lie for us, but we would appreciate your discretion.
Amendment VI
We have the right to clean air.
You may think it's funny, masculine, or natural to pass gas anywhere and anytime you please, but when the smell drives us to gag, it's uncool. There is something inherently wrong in the relationship if you must walk over to us and fart, or if you intentionally set a bad example for the kids. We fart too, but we do so discreetly for a reason. You may not like our potpourri and scented candles, but they're infinitely better than toxic and flammable methane.
Amendment VII
We have the right to keep and bear tons of girly bathroom products.
You have your tools; so do we. These items are expensive and to be used sparingly. It brings no joy to see our $15 bath bar shrunk down to the size of a quarter after two passes on your chest and legs.
Amendment VIII
We have the right to speak to our girlfriends every day.
About whatever we want, whenever we want. Please don't eavesdrop or criticize. We know you're not that interested in gossip or psycho-analytical interpretations of why some people do what they do, so we turn to our like-minded female friends for instant gratification. Yes, we do talk about you—a lot. It helps us work through issues. This keeps us happy, sane and, usually, off your case.
Amendment IX
We have the right to flirt.
Not the kind that makes you jealous, but the healthy practice of connecting with another person on a non-sexual level. Light banter is fun, quick-witted, and encouraging to our self esteem. It might even remind you of why you feel in love with us. And if it gets us a smoking deal on that new furnace or a free stay for the family at a million-dollar ski chalet, so much the better.
Amendment X
We have the right to foreplay.
A fine bottle of wine, soft music, deep looks into each other's eyes, compliments, holding hands, cuddling—these are all forms of foreplay, and we insist on them. Please don't reach for our crotch or breasts and expect us to melt into a porn kitten. It didn't work when we met, it most certainly doesn't work now. Sure, we women are strong and independent, and appreciate an inspired quickie when the moment strikes, but we also have an inner soft spot the size of Texas that needs squeezing and cherishing. We appreciate you more when you think about how it feels to us rather than how it feels to you.
Jill Adler is a freelance writer based in Salt Lake City. When she's not researching relationships, she edits a bi-monthly sports publication in Utah, is a film and television actor, and is a PSIA Level III certified ski instructor. You can reach her at

The Flip Side

The Husband's Bill of Rights
By Craig Playstead
We, the husbands of America, do not claim to be perfect. We're far from it. While we love being married to the wives of America, we have a few things that we'd like to straighten out. We're not asking for the world here. We understand that things like following our college football team to every away game is out of the question, as are after-dinner cigars. However; there are a few minor things that we'd like to clear up to make our marriage a happy one.
Amendment I
We have the right to go out with our friends at least once a month.
A man's relationship with his buddies is a bond that should never be broken. It helps keep us feeling young, connected and sane. It also helps us break the routine just like nights with the girls do for you. Even as we reach middle age, we like the fact that we still have a "crew."
Amendment II
We reserve the right to dislike your friend's husbands.
We promise to give the guy a fair shot, but when he starts acting like a moron, we can no longer authorize events with that family. And yes, wives have the same freedom to blackball when the tables are turned. It doesn't mean we like your friend any less, it just means that in her haste to have a big, fancy wedding, she chose a jackass that we don't want to spend our rare time off with. Listening to stories about how "wicked" he was on the French horn in his bitchin' ‘80s band is just too much.
Amendment III
We have the right to have a few things of ours in the house.
Everything we hold near and dear to us shouldn't all be in the garage. While we understand that our framed KISS concert poster might not make it on the living room wall, at least throw us a bone. The scene in "Juno" where Jason Bateman realized that everything he held near and dear was in a 200-square-foot room was a gut-shot to us all.
Amendment IV
We have the right not to be scolded by you.
We are your husbands, not your children. We don't mean to track dirt onto the carpet or get chips on the couch, but it's not like we just got a lap dance. Don't treat us like your children and we'll do our best not to act like them.
Amendment V
We have the right to teach our sons how to burp and fart.
Sharing bodily functions with our offspring is as much about life as it is about jokes. It's also something that can help brings kids and dads together. Believe me, kids and guys always laugh at farts—that's how we're wired. And we're not talking about being totally gross and inappropriate. We vow to teach them that there is a time and a place for behavior like this—and that the early service at Church is not one of them.
Amendment VI
We have the right to teach our children how to defend themselves.
Fighting is barbaric, terrible, and scary. But it's also part of growing up. We want our kids to be able to get out of a bad situation, not be bullied, and be able to take care of themselves. One of the plus sides of learning how to take care of yourself is that the more you know, the less you have to use it. Teaching our offspring how to defend themselves in a scary world is one of the basic duties of a father.
Amendment VII
We have the right to as much reading material in the bathroom as we need.
Sometimes we're in there a while, we can't help it. And no, we're not hiding … most of the time.
Amendment VIII
We have the right to watch the big game.
We care too much about our teams. We know it's not rational, but it's who we are. No one can explain the love men have for their teams, but you may as well embrace it because that love will not die. If you don't believe this, just remember the Boston Red Sox had the most loyal fans in sports and didn't win a World Series for 86 years.
Amendment IX
We have the right to the remote when we're on the couch.
This is something that's in our DNA. We know it, and you know it. If there's any doubt, watch us surf at top speed while knowing if a show is worth watching after stopping on it for .2 seconds. It's a thing of beauty.
Amendment X
We have the right to still use chivalry.
Yes … we know women are strong and independent, and we dig that. But allow us to open the door for you, or give up a seat and act like a gentleman once in a while. The world will be a better place because of it.
Craig Playstead is a freelance writer and happily married father of three living in the suburbs of Seattle. In the past he's also been a sports writer, online editor, and talk show host. You can reach him at

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Donating feels good :).

Last week, I saw a version of this story on the T0DAY show. And I thought to myself – WOW - they are right. (Love articles that validate a good thing.) It feels good to do something for others.

So I donated here and here.

Both causes are near and dear to my heart. If you feel inclined, I invite you to do the same.

Feel good while doing something good.


I may be kicking a gift horse in the mouth (Who made that phrase up?). But, why do you read me?

I have a stat counter and am always baffled as to why people read. When I was deep in the trenches - I could understand. I had something to say. Now, I think I'm boring. My thoughts are so far different. And I am often at a loss at what to post. OK, so I guess I would appreciate some delurking. And honest answers. Maybe I can spice this thing up a bit. My blogging habits have been very poor this year.

On other news....

T has gotten back from Argentina. He had a fabulous time and is trying to convince me to buy a place there. The poor man is dilusional. Love him to pieces, but CRAZY! Where does he think we have extra money?

While he was away, I did the following:

1. All Spring cleaning.
2. Collected 6 trash bags of clothing for donation.
3. Ton of shopping. (I guess some good deeds are rewarded!)
4. Started to shred old paper work. (Yeah I don't think I need receipts from 2002.)
5. Transfered savings accounts to a high yield online bank - becoming addicted to transferring money into savings.

It was a very productive time. But, I am very glad that T is home. I missed my sweet.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

The Damage

Well ladies, since I dragged you into my quest, I think I should notify you of my loot. Everything was on sale!

The loot: 3 pairs of jeans (Mavi, DKNY, and Seven), pair of sneakers, 3 pairs of khakis, a purse, and 6 tops.

I think I'm not allowed to go shopping for a long while. Good thing that this is unusual for me.

So much for not owning designer jeans...but when they were on sale and cheaper than no name was hard to pass up on the deal!

Thursday, April 03, 2008


T has gone on his boy's vacation to Argentina. So what is a girl to do? I went shoe shopping. Actually it was unintentional. I went to P*yless at lunch and struck pay dirt (three pairs). I love cute flats. Perfect for work in my very casual office.

So, a question for you ladies/gents. (Not discriminating - I'll take all the help I can get and from anyone.) I am in desperate need of new jeans. And the ones I swore by (J. Cr*w) are no longer working or that they are just worn (too many washes). But, since the internet has helped me in the past, I thought I'd ask you all. What are your favorite brands for jeans?

Especially if you are 5 feet 9 inches, average weight, with no hips, and plenty of butt (baby got back!). :)

Thank you in advance for your help!