Christmas! Yay!

So, I love Christmas. I always have. I blame my amazing childhood with parents who loved me and my siblings, and especially a mother who always made Christmas a BIG DEAL.

As far back as my memory goes, my mother always did Christmas big. Even when we lived in a teeny apartment, my mom always made the place look like Santa's workshop had exploded in our living room. Our *tiny* Christmas tree would go up the day after Thanksgiving, without fail. She would string lights up all over our living room window and the front and back balconies. She sang Christmas carols, wrapped presents, and just went around infecting us all with the holiday spirit.

seriously, this was our *tiny* tree...

My mom also never let us forget that Christmas wasn't just about gifts and Christmas trees and lights... it was about God, about family, and about being together. It's something that sticks with me to this day... I can't begin to imagine a Christmas without my crazy family. Or a Christmas without all sorts of decorations all over the place.

The first Christmas that I was dating my darling husband, I found out that he hadn't decorated for Christmas in a few years... and that he didn't plan to that year. I was outraged. So outraged that I went out and bought him a tree complete with all sorts of ornaments, a stocking, lights for his balcony and all sorts of other Christmas decorations.

This year is our first year in our brand new house. Have I gone a little overboard decorating? You bet your ass I have. And you know what? My darling husband loves it... he loves it so much, he feeds into my craziness by buying me more Christmas decorations, and by making our little house look like a gingerbread house on steroids.

yup...our light bill is going to be a wee bit much...

There's nothing sexier than a man on a ladder stringing up Christmas lights on a cold, windy day and not complaining even once about it. God. I love my husband.

The Tick, Tick, Ticking of a Biological Clock...

I don't know when it happened. I don't know how it happened.... but I sincerely wish my biological clock hadn't turned on. Or, if it had to turn on, maybe it didn't need to be on full blast?

I have become an obsessive recorder of my menstrual cycle, of my expected ovulation days, of everything having to do with making a baby. Soon, my poor, darling husband will probably start calling me the sex Nazi... he'll be one of those men that doesn't look forward to sex, but feels like a slave to his irrational wife's desires for a baby. Dramatic? Possibly.

It frustrates me to think that there are people out there who don't want their babies, who will be horrible parents, but somehow they manage to keep having babies. It's when I stop to think about things like that, that I get angry and I want to lash out at everyone and everything.

I know I would make a good mommie... just like I know my darling husband would make a fabulous daddy. I light candles, I say prayers, I follow the craziest advice from any one of my friends that offer it up. Still, nothing. I try not to stress, and I tell myself I won't dwell on it but I know this is a lie. I know that I will still obsessively count the days until my next expected period, ovulation days, etc., etc.

I can't help it.

If anyone knows how to turn off a biological clock, please... let me know.

Rocky Horror

I've always liked Halloween, but it's never been a big deal to me. When I was little, of course I would dress up and go get candy. It's candy for God's sake!! I've never been one of those people to turn their house into a haunted house and dress all up and just go crazy overboard on this day.... little did I know, my husband is "one of those people".

I should have known something was up when he started getting really excited about all the Halloween decorations popping in stores around town. I also should've known when he started debating what costume he wanted to wear to open the door for the poor, helpless neighborhood kiddos.

Truth time? I had never even carved a pumpkin until I found myself carving one this year with my better half as he hovered over me making sure I didn't lose a digit (or two). Our pumpkins turned out pretty good... especially considering the fact that one of us had never done it, and the other one hadn't done it in years.

the darling husband's pumpkin

my little pumpkin

My darling husband lived in an apartment for years, and he didn't trust the hoodlums enough to leave pumpkins outside his door. He also didn't really decorate for the same reason, but now that we live in a cute neighborhood full of families (and no hoodlums as of yet), he can let himself get a little carried away.

Unfortunately, my darling husband had to work this Halloween, so by the time he got home alot of the trick-or-treaters had come and gone... we got a couple of older, candy hungry kids later on, but not many. His costume will have to wait for next year (I've already been warned, he's taking the day off), and I'm sure it's going to be awesome so I'll keep it to myself until I can post pictures in a year. =)

Ciao.

Babies on the Brain....

I've been married a little over a year. It's been a good year. We moved into our love nest, our first home together, and I don't think I've ever been happier.

Except....

For the last two months or so, the only thing I have on my mind is babies. White babies, brown babies, MY babies. Some switch flipped in my mind within the last few months and now the only thing I can think of is, "I want my own babies". Now, this wouldn't be a strange thought for a girl to have, except if the girl in question is me... I, who up until two months ago felt very ambivalent about the thought of a tiny human incubating in my body. I, who didn't think I wanted to share my fabulous husband with anyone else.

Now all I can think is what a fabulous father the husband would be, how deliciously cute our kids would be, how completely clueless (yet blissfully happy) I would be as someone's "mommy". I have dreams about babies, my daydreams all involve babies in some form or another... it's official: I have babies on the brain.

My biological clock took it's sweet time waking up... but now it's ticking unbearably loud. On the flip side of this, is that my paranoia has also shifted into high gear. The questions that run through my head are as nonstop as the images of cute, chubby babies. What if I can't get pregnant? What if there's something wrong with my plumbing? With my darling husband's?

The problem is, I come from a family where the women are super-fertile. Look at them wrong, and they might get pregnant. So why isn't that the case with me? Why is it that I've been off of birth control for almost a year, and I haven't had so much as a "scare"? I can't help but wonder if I'm going to join the ranks of countless women who find themselves having trouble conceiving. I've always thought that I was lucky to have the choice to choose whether or not to get pregnant... and now that it's not happening, I'm wondering if my choice has been taken away?