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

Mood: Aggravated. I hate when stuff disappears

Listening to: Some Beautiful Silence

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

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

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

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

Me: No.

Daddy G: And September.

Me: Are you fucking kidding me? No.

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

Me: Was something about “no” unclear?

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

Daddy G: Don’t be like this Becky.

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

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

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

Daddy G: I know.

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

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

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

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

Daddy G: I know.

Me: You better stop sayin I know, mister.

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

a grown up?

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

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

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

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

Becky

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

Mood: Aggravated. I hate when stuff disappears

Listening to: My daughter getting Hindi tuition

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

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

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

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

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

Yep. I’m glad to be the wife.

Becky

A Recent Conversation

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

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

Daddy G: Seriously, what was it?

Becky: Mumble mumble… 50 Shades of Grey.

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

Becky: Yes.

Daddy G: Why???

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

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

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

benefits you, you know.

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

much, much cheaper)

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

Daddy G: I checked, it’s there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky: Damnit.

The Fighting Philosophers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky

Getting Back in the Saddle

Listening to: Bad Obsession - Guns N Roses

Mood: Calm, for now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky

Where in the World

Listening to: A Matter of Trust - Billy Joel

Mood: Happy

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

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

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

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

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

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

My take on a mommy blog:

http://guardingthecouches.blogspot.in/

Life in India – good fun with pictures:

http://followingthemasala.blogspot.in/

My main blog with life musings:

http://beckyispassingthrough.blogspot.in/

For what I’m reading and Recommending:

http://searchingforedification.blogspot.in/

Thanks for reading!

Becky

Battle of the Influences

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

Mood: Wired, thanks to some extra strong coffee today

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky