Coming Right Up: The 7 Year Itch

Yep, it's upon us. Our seventh wedding anniversary is only a few months away. It came up the other day in a conversation with my mom and sister and my mom said, "oh, you know what that means- the seven year itch!" I could only laugh and say that I'd gotten it a year early and experienced the six year itch.

I've been familiar with the term nearly as long as I can remember. As a big Full House fan growing up they did a parody episode called "The Seven Month Itch," where Uncle Jesse had been living with and helping raise the girls only to crave his bad boy college life again. A completely understandable desire now that I'm an adult.

Then there is the famous movie, Marilyn Monroe and all. The wife and kids are shipped off for the summer and she moves in the building and naively tempts the man. And in case you haven't seen it or don't know, it's the one with the famous white dress scene. It's slow like older movies can be, but still quite good and entertaining.

My interpretation of the modern seven year itch has nothing to do with being tempted by another relationship, but has everything to do with an anxiety to just be free. Free from the responsibilities of marriage.

I have to admit, I have it pretty damn good. I think if people are in fact "meant for each other," then we are (although I personally don't believe in it). Still, I feel like we chose wisely and have reaped plenty of rewards for it.

So I have a great marriage.

But still.....

At six years I was grateful but feeling smothered. For no particular reason and definitely not by any cause of my husband. I just.... yearned for something that wasn't there. There really is no better way to describe it than an itch. I found myself easily annoyed and wanting to do whatever I wanted to do. I didn't even want to be in the presence of a marriage. I just felt like I was over it, although I would never, ever want it to end because deep down inside I knew this too would pass.

I have a few theories on why this happens. I think it's mostly because when you get married you are two individuals, very separate and distinct. But as time moves on your personalities, interests, beliefs, and characteristics blend together until you don't know which ones you brought to the table in the first place. It's almost like losing a sense of who you are, even though you may be a better person because of it. An itch.

In time, the itch relieved itself. It didn't take long and there wasn't any defining moment. It just left secretly in the night, the exact same way it had come.

Now that I know what it really feels like, I wonder if I was just getting a taste for the real one- the seven year. I mean, generations of people have surely used this term for a reason? There can't be a mistake on the timing? If so, I'm definitely in for it.

I know every marriage has it's ups and downs. Even the strongest marriages. We happen to be going through a very rough patch right now. There is really no tangible reason for it, but there is a huge void and a large distance between us at the moment. It's a matter of life pulling us in two different directions and living separate lives together. Everything demanding our time at the moment is consuming on both parts and none of the reasons overlap. Thus we both spend all our efforts in fixing these things and have none left for each other. It's rough.

The reason I mention it is because it's lonely and desperate- definitely for me, and surely for him. I know we're gonna get through it, but right now there's no time for damage control and there isn't any time in the foreseeable future. So instead of patching up the leaks, they just get bigger as the rain keeps coming. I'm just not sure we could handle an itch on top of it all.

But.....

We have three months. And I know for a fact that at least the sun will be shining by then, and that is reason enough for me to wait it out.

The Suffocations of Suburbia

Any tv show I've almost ever watched is based in suburbia. Or maybe just the ones I paid attention to growing up. I guess it makes perfect sense. I mean since 1950, more Americans have lived in suburbia than anywhere else. Both of my parents grew up in the suburbs and I think a few of my grandparents.

Recently I watched the entire series of The Wonder Years. I love that show. After Winnie's brother dies in Vietnam and Kevin kisses her for the first time he says, "Whenever some blowhard starts talking about the anonymity of the suburbs or the mindlessness of the tv generation... we know that inside each one of those identical boxes, with it's dodge parked out front and it's white bread on the table and it's tv set glowing blue in the falling dusk, there were people with stories. There were families bound together in the pain and the struggle of love. There were moments that made us cry with laughter. And there were moments, like that one, of sorrow and wonder."

And although I think the sentiment is beautiful and very true, the suburbs still make me wary for some reason or another.

I've definitely done my fair share of time in the suburbs. I grew up in the suburbs without a doubt, and even though we moved a handful of times growing up, it was always from one suburb to another, usually only a mile or two from the last. Even in my married life we've spent more time in the suburbs than anywhere else. And can I just say- wow. That was really something!

I read an article only a few years back about my own generation. Most of us grew up in the suburbs and many of us are detesting them now. Not a majority, but quite possibly in the future. This article made the point that so many of us came from broken homes (which I did not... at least by definition), that many didn't correlate successful families to the kind of environment the suburbs provide. Makes perfect sense to me. It also pointed out that our generation is much more aware of what is going on in the world around them- we are going greener, we are repopulating urban centers, we are revitalizing entire cities, etc. I wish I remember where I'd read it and I'd link it here, but the point being that my generation is going through a major paradigm shift and ditching conventional for new ways of life.

As I read this I thought how appealing all of this sounded to me, and how much of it was already true about me. I would love to walk to the market every day. I would love to ditch a car (or two) and use public transportation. I would love to buy organic foods, bamboo floors, and hemp sofas. I would trade (in a heartbeat) my children each having their own rooms for the cultural experiences that urban centers provide. I would rather pay very little for a public park than a lot of money for a huge yard (and have to take care of it).

I've spent a fair amount of time in cities. I love the city! Still, I'd like to have a family someday and the two are not completely cohesive, although it is possible and I admire and secretly envy those who do it. But, I was having a bit of an epiphany as I read this article in Hoboken, NJ where we were living for the summer.

I love Hoboken. It is the greatest little city right outside of Manhattan with a completely urban feel. It has great restaurants, beautiful parks, local bakeries, stunning views, convenient transportation, and believe it or not- neighbors who know each other! It's the "Manhattan for Families" as my husband and I call it, and with a much cheaper price tag. I was expressing my love for it one time in front of a friend of my parents and it was all he could do to keep from scowling. "When I lived in New Jersey we'd never dare even drive within ten miles of that place!" he said. This was about forty years ago and it's amazing how it's this hip new urban center that people flock to now. Goodbye crime, hello play dates!

At the time Hoboken was much more appealing than the suburban dream home we'd been living in for about three years. Sure, it was gorgeous and wonderful, but we were definitely in over our heads- and in more ways than one! We didn't know it at the time as well as we should have, but we were the definition of house poor- strapped by a mortgage and the promise of the American Dream. The notion of "owning your home is the way to wealth" doesn't hold much water for me after that experience.

It also was an odd place for a childless couple. Eventually we found a cozy place to fit in with our surroundings and neighbors, but it took longer than it takes a family, that's for sure. I knew we were much better suited for a cozy loft at the time, but we were in the mode of looking forward, thinking that we knew where we were headed. Wow, were we wrong!

And shall we visit the drama for just a moment? Holy moly. People in the suburbs who put on these shows of lives that are somehow "put together" were in fact anything but. I think maybe this is why I enjoy Mad Men so much. Lots and lots of suppressed feelings and secrets and lies. It definitely explained the term "desperate housewife."

So why do people do it? Is there something in my psyche that led me in that direction?

I'm almost positive. I moved there as if the decision had been made twenty years ago. For all the same reasons that I think people fulfill "expectations" without thinking through them first. Even the big ones, like getting married and having babies. Sad, but true. And the only sad part is where they end up because of it, because these should be the most momentous, celebrated occasions of our lives and I know that they can be under the right circumstances.

Before I married The Man, he used to talk about this pretend life that he pictured- white picket fence and all that came along with it.

Now, I'm much more in the "let's write our own destiny" mode. The same mode that makes me want to find a modern loft in the city.

Still, I have that daunting feeling of "what might the future hold?"

I turn once again to Kevin Arnold who said, "I grew up in the suburbs. I guess most people think of the suburb as a place with all the disadvantages of the city, and none of the advantages of the country, and vice versa. But, in a way, those really were the wonder years for us there in the suburbs. It was kind of a golden age for kids."

Would I be depriving my future children of something if they were to be raised in a city? Am I preventing them from putting down roots if we move around a bit? Or am I offering them unique life experiences that we might all benefit from?

It's hard to say really.

For now, I think I've settled on something in the middle (in my mind that is). Someplace near downtown with a little bit of room to spread out, but without the ugly commute. Maybe something like this:

I guess we all have to determine what we want and find our own little piece of heaven... and I can guarantee I will never find mine in a tract home.

Let's Take a Trip!

So, here's my vacation dilemma. I like tropical. I don't really see a need to visit snow, especially since I've lost the beloved ability to ski which I'm still somewhat bitter about. However, I currently live on the west coast and let's just discuss getaways for a moment:

• California- nice. beautiful. I love it, in fact. But it is hardly tropical and rarely warm.
• Hawaii- I'm not rich so that basically rules that out.
• Alaska- the opposite of tropical (though I would like to go at least once)
• Mexico.

Ok Mexico- you are warm, you are generally affordable, and you are within reach.....

But I don't really like you.

Yes, I have been to Mexico and been less than impressed. Now before you Mexico fanatics get all up in my business, just hear me out.

It seems like anytime someone is selling Mexico, I see pictures and ads like this:

I even think to myself, "wow, that looks nice."

Yet somehow when I arrive in Mexico, it looks like this:

Just to be fair, I have to give Puerta Vallarta some props, but otherwise I could care less about going to Mexico. I've been to Cabo (American Mexico), Mazatlan (just shoot me because that would probably be more enjoyable), and Cozumel (relaxing is great but could we possibly find something to do here?). Oh and lest we forget Tijuana.

So let's revisit our options here...

Hawaii?

Ahhhh, yessss. I love Hawaii.

Oh but wait....

back to the money scenario.

I've been to Hawaii twice. I had a great time both times. The first time I left I actually cried. But by the time I save up enough money for the hubby and I to go to Hawaii, this looks much more enticing for the same price:

Or better yet, this:

Point of this rant being that basically all the places I'd like to go visit are far away and consume much of our available time off in travel time. So.... I guess what I'm saying is....

we should definitely move.

May I Speak Candidly For a Moment?

I guess that's all I really do here. Still, there are some personal things that I keep to myself. Today I just need to vent.

What is up with being a woman? I mean, seriously- it can be so miserable sometimes.

Like today, for me.

I've been on birth control since before I got married (approximately 7 years now) and I have loved almost every second of it. And I am serious when I say the word love. It makes me feel completely balanced and in control of my otherwise erratic female body. I was so mad at my mother for not "cluing me in" earlier since I felt so much better on it when I started. I don't understand people who hate birth control. In fact, I think you're psycho. But, I know that everyone's bodies react differently to different things (blah, blah, blah). I've been on maybe 4 different types of birth control and I love each one just a little bit more.

So recently, I've stopped taking birth control (feel free to draw your own assumptions, although I will confirm or deny nothing) and you might as well just put me in the crazy house. My moods are haywire, my body is doing crazy things, and my sanity has gone right out the window! I feel like a walking nightmare.

On top of that, my body is re-regulating itself to it's natural cycles.... the worst part of all. For three months now I have gotten the periods from hell that only continue to get progressively worse. I guess the good news is that they are regular? That way I at least expect them. Still, I basically want to die. I never had them this bad before I went on birth control, so why now?

Last night's cramps kept me up half the night writhing in pain and self loathing for my body. No pain killers (not even the hard stuff) could touch them. I felt like there was an entire organ inside rotting and trying to escape from my body with a vengeance. I hardly ever got cramps before, and only mildly and rarely while on the pill so this is just unbearable.

They say the pill releases the same hormones as being pregnant, so maybe I'll be one of those crazy people who LOVES pregnancy and every other woman wants to beat down with her handbag.

I remember in eighth grade a group of girls were talking about this subject and one said, "All I know is I'm gonna have a lot to say about it to God someday!" My feelings today tell me I'll be recruiting an army to do the same.

Rebel Without a Cause

As the oldest child I was born with that "eager to please" gene. A lot of first children get that. Sometimes it's built in and sometimes it's harvested through expectation, but whatever the reason, it definitely exists. Even as an adult I feel like different pressure is placed on me by being the oldest child. It's probably all in my mind at this point, but I'm not sure I'll really ever overcome it.

Because of this attitude I feel like I'm very much a Type A personality. I feel like I have a strong moral compass and try not only to do what's right, but try to do everything to the very best of my abilities. When things go bad I aim to do things better than everyone else. I think most of the praise I thrived off of as a child came from completing things well or better than expected, particularly from my father. There is something in me that just never wants to disappoint him and impressing him is even more rewarding.

This is all well and good, but since I feel like I live by a high moral standard and value responsibility, I don't feel like I need much guidance (a terrible flaw of mine). I'd rather do things myself than delegate them to others and I'm very independent. If someone doubts me, I'll do whatever I can to prove them wrong. I guess my driving force is the three year old attitude of, "I'll do it the way I want and I'll do it myself!" So, (I'm sort of feeling exposed here) stubbornness is a real strong trait of mine- feel free to ask my husband about it.

Because of all these things, there is nothing I hate more in this whole world than being told what to do. I can't stand it. Since I'm usually the bossy one, I hate getting a taste of my own medicine. I will refuse to do something just because of the nature in which it was insisted. Requests are fine, but telling me the way it is is NOT effective.

Prime example-

In high school my parents gave me a curfew (I had one earlier, but it never mattered because I couldn't drive anyway and neither could my friends). It was a pretty regular curfew of midnight. I felt like that was pretty fair and there were few nights that I'd prefer to be out later than that anyway. But they TOLD me the way it was, and that did not go well. The firmer my curfew got, the longer I'd push it back. I'd literally be doing nothing interesting, but I wanted them to know that I could manage myself and make my own decisions. Even looking back, I know I could (unlike many teens). Sometimes I'd sit in my car around the corner waiting for my curfew to pass just to piss them off (ridiculous, I know- shall we revisit the word stubborn?).

The curfew situation got worse and worse and so did my relationship with my parents and our tolerance for each other. One day my mom finally said to me, "Ok, I trust you. You have no more curfew."

FREEDOM!

Thank goodness I had a mother willing to recognize the problem. In the following months I can't even tell you how many times I was home by 10:30, just because there was nothing interesting to do. My parents were in heaven and the one or two nights I stayed out past midnight worried them much less. I'd usually roll in not much later and I had usually fallen asleep at my friend's house anyway. It was glorious.

My sister on the other hand, had no curfew and would be out ALL night long. So my parents gave her a curfew and she was rarely a minute late. She would have been in big trouble and she knew it.

We were just different kids and my parents learned it early enough to adapt. Different things just work for different people- and boy, are we different people!

Still, I do things like this all the time. If someone tells me to do something, I won't just to spite them. It's quite ridiculous. I guess I feel like I was a good kid that didn't need monitoring so this was my only was to rebel without making myself unhappy. That definitely carried into adulthood. I'm not saying I always made, or continue to make, sound judgements, but I'm pretty capable and I just don't like being bossed around.

There's Something Just a Little Off....

Wow! Two posts in one week after months of sparse blogging? My husband must be out of town. You guessed it. And there's probably plenty more to come.

So one thing I love about moms, sisters, and sometimes (when they are brave) husbands, is that they tell it to you straight. If I look like crap, no one hides it. I say it back to all of them as well. Who better to tell you that you are falling apart than someone who really loves you? This very thing happened today when my mother said to me, "I looked in the mirror and realized my hair looks terrible... but then I looked at you and you had the same thing going on." Awesome.

The thing is, this is kind of the story of my life.

I love getting dressed up or have some kind of an occasion to look "put together" for. It can be something as simple as a shower or dinner with friends, all the way to a fancy night out on the town. Whatever- it doesn't happen often, so I relish in it when it does. I'll try to pick out just the right outfit, spend time doing every strand of hair, and pretending that I know how to apply makeup.

Unfortunately for me, it only kind of works out. I'll be feeling pretty good about myself and somewhere in the time span of the unfolding event I will have some sort of hiccup in my plan to be a composed adult. It's not always a big deal, but it's the little things that get you, you know? Lipstick on my teeth, losing a button (always right on the cleavage), a bra strap keeps slipping out, I break a heel on my shoe, I get a wedgie, I break a nail (or two or three), my fly is undone, I have a zit in the middle of my face, I trip on my shoelaces, I lose an earring, or a myriad of other little things. It's as if the universe refuses to let me be perfectly composed for one night of my life. That would be way to impressive.

It's not always about the way I look either (I'm vain, but not that vain). I'll give you two good examples:

A- One night the hubby and I went to a film festival. The screening we went to was for a film that one of our friends had produced (it was fantastic, by the way). So before the screening they had a place to hang out and we got to meet the cast and all that fun stuff. It was really exciting to know someone that had something to do with it and we had planned accordingly and tried to make it a fun night out. We had to wait in line for a pretty long time and before we stepped into the theatre I left the group to hit the restroom. I was rushing along and dropped my ticket right in the toilet. This is not the first time I've dropped things in the toilet (the worst was my phone at the mall), so I knew I had to go right in for it. Luckily, it wasn't fully emerged and I tried to shake it off and handed it embarrassingly to the usher. Chuckling and somewhat horrified, I shuffled off towards my seat when the back of my shoe got stuck on a stair and ripped the heel right off of it (yep, I wasn't just saying that). I had quite the story to tell since the two minutes since I'd last seen my party. Ridiculous.

B- Only a few weeks ago we had a formal ball with some friends for New Year's Eve. I'm talking ball gowns here. Super duper fancy style. As I'm busting a move out on the dance floor (not good moves, either), I drop straight to the ground after tripping on my dress. I have to admit, it was hysterical and I kind of wished that someone caught it on tape, but nevertheless- can't I just keep myself together!?

I don't generally suffer from clumsiness, but you never know when it could sneak up on you. I can't imagine that these occurrences would lessen when I have children, in fact, I am terrified they will increase (and I'm pretty sure I'm right).

*le sigh*

I'm in the mood to blog.

The question is- about what?

I don't really have anything to share....

Or maybe I have too much to share and just can't organize my thoughts.

Yep, that's it.

So what will it be tonight? Ahh....

My husband finally caved and got us the Netflix. I'm not a huge advocate of tv. I really never watch it except when my husband picks something out and I'm in the same room. Which is basically always. So yeah, I guess I watch a lot of tv, or rather just listen in on it. Some things catch my interest and others don't. When he goes to work I never turn the thing on and sometimes when I try I realize I don't even know how. Pathetic.

Anyway, like I said, he caved and got the Netflix. He only got me to agree to the 30 day trial up front because I don't like paying for stuff we don't use (and by we, I mean I). Plus we don't pay for our cable right now- not because we're stealing it or anything (even though I think that's morally gray and wouldn't necessarily be against it), but it's included in our HOA fees or something weird.

Tangents.

The point is... I love it. I admit it whole heartedly. I've always been a big fan of Hulu and such because I can catch the shows I know I want to watch (and with very few commercials), in the time I choose. But Netflix has opened me up to a new way of watching tv (something I still don't condone getting sucked into). I have become somewhat of a documentary whore, for starters. But I feel like I'm learning a lot about obscure and various things. Most of these will be rendered useless random knowledge, but I find them interesting regardless. Plus it's better than watching some filthy smut reality tv or something (*cough* Jersey Shore *cough*).

Another great feature is that it recommends things based on what you watch. Not only individual viewings, but entire categories. It's been quite comical and somewhat disturbing to see what it suggests to the husband and I. I probably shouldn't bring attention to this, but after a few days of my using the Netflix there was a category called "Documentaries on Food." The husband rolled his eyes knowing full well that it's been a recent prolonged obsession of mine. However, the power was put back in my hands when after a few days of him using the service it created a category called "Raunchy Comedies." That's right. My husband ladies and gentlemen.

He does like the documentaries as well. Plus it gives immediate updates on things like SNL (something he's recently brought to my attention), so you don't have to wait for it to come out on DVD. Great news for me since I'm in bed most Saturday nights (hey, I'm getting old- don't judge me).

So my final thoughts on the matter are- it's cheaper than a movie. Just get it.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT get paid by Netflix in any way, shape or form. I just like it and wanted to share. But if you do know how to get me paid for my endorsement, I could always use a vacation.