Dearest Anon...

Okay I've been silent for quite some time ... I still draw strength from your comments and take an interest in your lives. I'm just trying not to dwell on the bad.

HOWEVER....

A comment was left today that I find I cannot ignore. I would have just replied to the commentor as a comment myself, but I wanted to make sure they see it. So we'll just make a post about it. 


The Comment:

Anonymous said...

I've been following your blog for a long time and this post really made me see things in a whole new light.

Let me start off by saying that I KNOW what it's like to have a husband who is into porn. I know the pain it causes. It destroys your self esteem. Porn is a terrible thing.

So is nagging.

You are so desperately trying to change your husband and turn him into someone he is not. He is obviously not in a place where he WANTS to break his addiction. You can't force an addict to come clean. They have to want it. Clearly Amos doesn't want it. He says he wants to change, but he never does. At some point you have to wash your hands of it, and either leave, or accept that he occasionally likes to look at porn (which isn't really an addiction if he is only looking on the RARE occasion)

I can guarantee Amos doesn't see you as a strong, confident woman. He sees you as a nagging wife who won't just leave him alone. If it's not the porn it's him taking off for a few hours. If it's not that it's him picking his sister in law to cook instead of you. It's like nothing he ever does is good enough.

If I were a man and my wife nagged me as much as you nag Amos I'd either be cheating on her in the hopes that she finds out and it destroys her, or I'd just leave.

I know you're just trying to save your marriage, but have you stepped back and thought that maybe it's not worth saving? You're spending years of your life hurting...is it worth it? What if this lasts another 10 years and one of you finally decide to end it, will you look back and regret that you wasted so many years trying to make Amos something he's not?

The Reply:

Anon...

Holy... Wow. Just Wow.

I can swallow your entire comment as constructive critisim... except for this jewel...

"If I were a man and my wife nagged me as much as you nag Amos I'd either be cheating on her in the hopes that she finds out and it destroys her, or I'd just leave."

What were you thinking? Seriously? Did you walk away after making that comment and feel proud about it? Did you say that and think "Well there's some advice you can take to the bank!"  What is wrong with you? Have you stepped back and realized what it is you're reading? You're reading one side of a many faceted story from a very sad and very raw woman. And after hearing one side of one story you think you have the phenomonal insight to sit back and say my marriage isn't worth fighting for? That if you were my husband you'd walk out or cheat on me?  You truely think you're that wise?

Let me be clear here.. You have no clue, no idea, no way to even fathom what my marriage is like as a whole. 

As you read this blog there are a couple of things you have to remember...

First is that it's a place to vent. I don't talk about the good times because I don't need a venting place in the good times, I need one in the bad times. So the bad times are what I post.

Second... this has been building up for YEARS. You're watching the volcano erupt, you weren't there for the years of the agonizing heat building up.

Think of it this way....

Take your nails and rub them down your arm. Not a big deal right? Maybe you have long nails and it isn't the most pleasant sensation, but nothing to think twice about.

Now, take a piece of sandpaper and rub your arm vigorously for 20 minutes or so. Heck, even 10 minutes. At this point, your skin is red and angry and raw. Now take your nails and rub them down your skin again.

Suddenly the same action gets a whole different reaction doesnt it? Suddenly running your nails down your arm is more than uncomfortable... it's painful. It burns, it hurts, and you can feel it long after you're done touching your arm.

This is the state of my marriage. Things that wouldn't have been a big deal 6 years ago have suddenly become incredibly raw. Incredibly emotional.

I will never accept that my husband looks at porn. Why would I do that? Why would I be okay letting my husband jack off to the thought of another woman? Why would I knowingly let him have sex with me while he is imagining I'm someone else? Why would I set that example for my daughter? My son?  I will not live that way and wether you see it as confidence or nagging is up to you, but our marriage will meet the standards that WE set for it. No one elses. Even if it was "occasionally" that he looked at porn (and by the way... it's NOT. Prior to September he had, by his own estimation, spent about 3 months of our 6 year marriage not looking at porn. It's not that he looks occasionally, it's that he only gets caught occasionally.) I wouldn't stand for that either. Would you let your husband occasionally cheat on you? Or hit you? Or be abusive in any way? No of course not. And neither will I.

I'm all for constructive critisim but.... come on. I fail to see the construction in that bit of critisim.

Pulling Out

Get your mind out of the gutter. Not that kind of pulling out. I mean from blogging. I've been having conversations with Amos recently about this blog. I can't figure out if it hurts or helps. It's almost like picking a scab... I feel like I'm on the way to healing and then I just gush out some more. So I was trying to ease off into la-la land. I felt like we were headed in the right direction. He had been leaving me a note occasionally and once left me a "coupon" for a backrub last month. That's effort. We're still not there, by a long shot, but it's effort. So before I start this post I want to make sure he gets credit for that... he's trying.

Then Friday Happened. 
On Friday I had an eye appointment. I needed him to be home to take the kids so I asked him to be home by four o'clock. He agreed. My eye appointment was at 5, but I didn't tell him this. In the past he's been late almost every time I've asked him to come home at a certain time. This way I figured he didn't know he had any wiggle room so he'd come home and I'd be able to make my appointment on time. As expected, he was fifteen minutes late. I wasn't going to mention a word. But then, at dinner, he offers up this informtion: he was late because he stayed late at work to talk to his boss about guns. It wasn't a last minute work assignment as I had assumed. He stayed late just to chit chat. In this instance it didn't matter because we had some wiggle room, but he didn't know that.  I told him, calmly and even politely, that it makes me feel like a low priority when he is late for reasons like that. If I were just asking him to come home so I can go shopping for new shoes, that's one thing.... but I didn't like it when I had a doctor's appointment that could for all he knew he could have made me miss. I seriously spent about 3 minutes on this. I wasn't ugly or rude or catty. I really wasn't. But to hear him tell it you'd think I'd gone off the deep end. He later described it as "yelling" at him and telling him he was a "terrible person". 

I went to my appointment and everything was fine. At about 6 pm he told me he was going out. Then he did. At this time I assumed he had his phone with him so I wasn't worried. He had left the house to cool off before. Usually it lasts for a couple of hours. When eight came around I started getting a little worried. When ten came around I was in an all out panic. I knew he wouldn't like me calling him but I was really worried so I texted to find out where he was. He had (intentionally) left his cell phone at home. I text my sister in law to see if they had seen them, and they hadn't. At this point I'm really worried. We're a "bed by ten" kinda family and he had never been out more than two hours... Before all was said and done I had called the ER's of about ten hospitals and called the dispatchers of two different police stations.

Finally (about eleven) I heard the garage door open. I was so scared I was shaking. He walked in and I told him never to do that to me again. He said "I'll do my best."  At this point I was crying and beyond reliefe that he was alive. He was obviously still mad. I decided I'd broach this conversation again when we were calm. I did that today. And you get to read the outcome. Lucky you.

ME: I have to say something
now that everything is calm
are you there?
HIM: yes
ME: Okay.
the other night when you left and were gone for so long. I was REALLY scared. REALLY scared.
When I asked you to never do that again you said "I'll do my best"
That's not good enough
That's not okay
It was done from spite and frusteration
If you forget your phone, PLEASE stop and let me know you're okay
at a payphone or something
if I don't hear from you for five hours like that and it's that late at night, I'm going to assume you're hurt
and I'm going to be scared
I felt like when you came home and saw me crying that this was the reaction you were shooting for
am I wrong?
HIM: This is a dangerous conversation to have. Let's just move past it and remain in peace a calm.
ME: Can you please just tell me you won't do that again? It's totally fine to dissappear and take some Amos time, but you're a father and a husband. You need to let us know you're okay
can you do that?
HIM: No. I can't. There are times when I will leave my cell phone and be out of touch. I will either tell you that I'm leaving, or leave a note, or have my cell phone. I am a father and a husband...and once in a blue moon its good for me to go. This time I was the most disconnected (ie wireless) and I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it. I just listened to my music and I felt...great.
I told you I was leaving this time.
ME:Yeah but you didn't tell me you'd be out all night
that scared me
can you NOT understand that?
For such a wonderful time that you had, I was falling apart
HIM: I didn't mean to scare you. That was never my intent.
ME: All I'm asking is for you to pull over and find a payphone and call me. Just say "Hey Esther I'm still out. I might be out for a while longer I just wanted you to know that I am okay"
that's all Im asking for
Or take your phone
and turn it off
What if I needed you?
Can you just check in every few hours? I'm not asking you to come home earlier, just tell me you're okay
HIM: No. What's the point of getting away and disconnecting if I have to check it every few hours? The point is to get away and disconnect. I wanted to be out until 3 am. Or later.
ME: That's not okay Amos you are a husband
you are MY husband
you are a father
when you said those vows you became accountable to someone
you hurt me
if you do it again
you'll hurt me again
don't do it
HIM: If this was a regular occurence...I'd totally agree with you. This is the first time I've desired to disconnect...for a brief window of time.
ME: So?
that makes it okay to scare the crap out of me?
you have NO IDEA what I went though
do you know how many hospitals I called?
two police stations and about 10 hospitals
and I had to tell every single one of them that I didn't know where my husband was
HIM: You don't think that was an overreaction on your part?
ME: No. I don't
I went to the grocery store one night and left my phone. I had been gone about two hours
and when I got home you said you had been worriede about me
HIM: how many hospitals and police stations did I call?
ME: none. But that's my point
that was TWO hours
what would you have done if it had been five
and I had stormed out
and we had just fought
HIM: You were not worried about me until after 10:00...less than an hour later you called hospitals.
ME: Bull crap
I was worried long before then
I just couldn't take it anymore after 10
just because I didn't start making calls till ten doesnt mean I wasn't worried
Wether you like it or not, you are accountable to me and I am accountable to you.
HIM: your text to B (B is my sister-in-law. He read my texts. I don't know why) didn't sound worried.
ME: So???
HIM: which is why I told you I was leaving.
ME: Do you think I'm lieing?
HIM: I think you went from 0 to 60 too quickly.
ME: It doesn't matter. The point is that I was scared and I am asking you as your wife to please just check in every few hours
Please
why are you fighing me on this?
I was so scared
please don't do that
HIM: I wish I was a fighter..I wish I had the ability to scream and yell and throw things. My only option is to just say, "yes dear..yes dear." You win every "argument" we have....you're always right. I can't promise I'm going to call every few hours if I leave the house. I might get angry or need to blow off steam or whatever you want to call it. I will make sure you know before I leave. I may or may not take my cell phone. I opted to not this time...I don't regret that decision....in fact I liked it so much I may do it again if the need arises..which I don't expect anytime soon...as long as we don't fight and I'm not accused of being a terrible person..which I realize is not words you said..I'm just saying..that's the flavor of all this...how terrible I am.
well..I'm terrible
I'm a terrible husband and father...because I wanted to be alone for..maybe 5 hours? During which time the most exciting thing I did was go to Taco Bell.
and I told you before hand that I was leaving...
I was late coming home by 15 minutes on Friday...I didn't like getting in trouble for that...at all. And my insides exploded and I left. if 6 hours is so much time that you call hospitals...remember this the next time I wake up early on Friday to get home for your appt and then come home 15 minutes later than expected...when the appt was an hour later...
and if I was late...you could have take the kids...
death was not on the line
you were there for...15 minutes?
not ideal I know..
and I try hard to make everything ideal
really hard
and there's pressure
and I never show it
but I think sometimes there's going to be evenings where I vanish and breathe and relax on my own terms
not saying this is the new normal or anything like that
so .....no...I will not call you every three hours when I do become angry over getting yelled at for being 45 minutes early instead of 60 minutes early
I almost for sure will not take my phone with me ever again if this happens...which again..I don't expect...this is not the new normal
ME: Okay I did NOT yell at you
I didn't raise my voice
I talked for 3 whole minutes about how it made me feel
that was IT
and I wasn't going to bring it up unless you did
and you over reacted
badly
HIM: well then all is even
ME: you hear things that I don't say
so if you feel like a terrible person
then that's all on you
because i do NOT treat you like one
if I can't tell you calmly and quickly how a situation made me feel then what kind of a relationship do we have
what happened to that communication skills you are so cocky about
we no longer have them if all you ever hear are things that i NEVER said
never even insuinated
and I mean it
if you don't give me a time frame to expect you
or at least call in and tell me you're alive
i'll think you're hurt
and if you saunter in and watch me cry and don't care at all
I'm going to take it badly
this first time is an accident
you didn't know the effect it would have on me
but the next time will be deliberate
if it is more important to you that you don't call me
and get to spend more time to yourself
KNOWING that I'm at home scared
then yes you are a jerk
and next time
it will be deliberate
and it will not go so smoothly
leaving me and not giving me any hint that you are okay
or what time to expect you back
is NOT acceptable
I gave alot for you
to be with you
and the least you can do is pick up an effing phone!
E did this to B one time (E is Amos' brother and B is his brother's wife) ONE TIME
and you know what he told her?
When he saw her crying and having a panic attack he told her he'd never put her though that agin
So NO
I'm not over reacting
and wanting my feelings and fears to be important to you is NOT unreasonable
and if you still refuse to pick up a phone every few frickin hours for a 20 second conversation then yes dear, you're an ass.

Ta-dah. The Esther and Amos saga. We cancelled our marriage counseling. Maybe that was a mistake. I just don't know how to communicate with him any more. I don't know how to tell him what I'm feeling without him putting words into my mouth. He's awful about that. He hears what he wants to hear. He draws hard lines without taking my feelings into account. What do I do with that? I'm sure I'm not perfect but I don't blow his feelings off the way he does with me. Sometimes I think about how much easier life would be if I could just go home. I'm so emotionally drained right now.

On the bright side I'm down to 204.... Yay(?)

My Walk Of Shame...

...is almost over.  It's so close I can taste it. Any plus size woman knows what I'm talking about.

Here's the scene. You're in the market for some new duds so you go to your favorite clothing store. As you stroll up the side walk, the store front comes into view. You see people wonder in and out of the doors with their arms full of  shopping bags and your heartbeat speeds up. You're excited.  You've been saving your money for weeks because you need new clothes.  And now you get them. This is gonna be awesome. You approach the store front windows and there in front of you is the cutest little pant/top combo you've ever seen and already you're deducting the cost of that outfit from your budget. A smile tugs your mouth and you stride confidently into the store fully expecting to walk out feeling like a super star. 

Then you walk in.  Everything is different when you walk in. There is a visible line inside that store. You got the itty bitties in the front of the store and the fluffy girls are set up in the back. And thus the walk of shame begins. You have to walk through the itty bitty section to get to your section. You feel all the eyes shift in your direction. You are weighed and measured. Everyone in that store notes that you are not thin enough to shop on their side of the store. To dare to browse around in the itty bitty section feels almost like your trespassing. You wonder to yourself what they think of you looking at their clothes and their styles and you slink back to your corner of the store.

Mind games. It's all mind games. Of course there is no enemy lines inside that store, but when you're a big girl you imagine they are. It takes a certain degree of strength to even shop for clothing in public when you're a larger girl. It would be much easier to hide behind the computer monitor and order your clothing online, sight unseen. But I refuse to be beaten so I suck it up and I take my walk of shame.

But not for much longer. Sunday  I purchased my first pair of size fourteen pants in nearly four years. In my particular store of choice (Maurices) the plus size clothing is from sizes 24 (incidently that was my size six months ago) to size 14. My size now. One more size down puts me at a 12 and THAT puts me in the front section of the store.

Yes. My walk of shame is almost over.

Reasons to Smile

Yesterday Amos and I had a counseling appointment. During the appointment there was some talk about divorce. Not about me wanting it, but about him being scared of it. We talked about it a bit more after we left. Not a lot. There was no fights or any harsh words of any kind. We discussed scenarios that would have to happen for me to leave.  The night went on. And then I slept.

I had dreams last night. Lots and lots of dreams. 

It was like my head was creating scenarios that would force me to divorce him. It was like reliving broken heart after broken heart after broken heart. Exhausting.

When I woke up I spent 10 minutes just laying there convincing myself that they were dreams... just dreams. He didn't actually do those things and I never said those things and my kids never saw those things.

I basically gave my pep talk. Reasons to smile.

I have a nice house.

I have warm clothes.

I have plenty of food.

Good food. This is my FAVORITE pie. I've made it a handful of times and I've had it made for me a handful of times and Sweet Heavenly Father... it's good. It's a Black Raspberry Cream pie and it is WONDERFUL. And as far as pies go, it's not THAT horrible for you. IF you schedule your meals carefully and show restraint, you can work this dessert into your supper. The recipe is here. My problem is that I don't show restraint. I MUST lick the bowl and spoon and I MUST have half a pie per sitting. So it's going to be a minute before I make another one of these bad boys.

My weight loss plateau is over. I've been bouncing around between 217-220 since the surgery and it was getting extremely discouraging. I'm now at a 214. This is how much I weighed when I got pregnant with Ruth meaning this is my lowest weight in nearly three years. I'm a size 16 which is, although still big, much better than a 24. It's a loss. And I'll take it. I made a personal goal for myself to be below 200 by Easter. I can do it. I KNOW it.

I'm not alone.

These are the flowers that were given to me by my sister-in-law when I was having a rough day last week.  It's easy for me to feel alone and lonely out here without my family and friends but this gesture was special to me and certainly a reason to smile.

I have a husband who loves me and thinks I'm worth fighting for.  Yeah, I know that some of you would argue that comment, but it's true.  We were talking about counseling last night and if we were going to continue. He's made no secret that he doesn't enjoy it (who would? I don't.) but he's also said "If you want me to stand in a bucket of ice water with a tuna fish on my head... I will." And he means it. He's taking his lead from me and will do anything I think is necessary to help our marriage.

I have my health.  Yeah okay, aside from the disgusting 84 pound blob of  extra weight that has taken up residence in my body, I'm healthy. I am 28 years old. I have my whole life ahead of me. And life is what I choose to make it.

And finally... My kids. My loves. My heartbeat.

My Artist.

She is perfect. She is smart. She is tiny. She is two. I adore her. I realize I am going to sound like a conceited mama, but I don't care. Everyone loves her. She is a charmer. Strangers stop just to urge a little grin out of her. She'll change someone's life one day. Just wait.

My Chunk.

He usually smells a little... off. He almost always gets his shirt dirty before I'm done putting it on him. He weighs about five pounds more than he should. And he, too, is perfect. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, and one stunning smile. He's so laid back and mellow. He coo's and goo's and giggles and he has his mama and daddy utterly enchanted.

My day will not be dictated by a few imaginary bad dreams. I have reasons to smile. And today, I will.



Daddy's Girl

I'm going to take a break from talking about Amos today.  Today I'm going to talk about my father.

I call my father "Daddy." It's common enough in the south, where I was raised, but referring to him as "Daddy" here  (not the South) raised a couple of eyebrows. I don't care. That's who he is. Daddy worked hard for everything we had. He was well known around town and to this day if you're out and about with my father, you're going to get more than a few "howdies" thrown your way.  One of the most common conversations you'll hear is this:

Random Person: Howdy! What do ya know good?
Daddy: Awe nothin much. What do you know?
Random Person: Nothin.. nothin..

And the conversation would take off from there. That was one of my favorite things to hear as a child.  Daddy is not only well known, he's well respected. 

He is a mechanic by trade. A GOOD one. I remember once as a child, 8 or 9 years old, Daddy had just started working for the local BP as their in house mechanic. It was a front page story in our local paper. I kid you not. There on the front page was a picture of my daddy... smiling like a fool.  Eventually Daddy wised up and realized that the business would go where he went. So he opened up his own shop and he kept it open until he retired about 5 years ago.

He is a business man by heart.  I can not tell you how many times I heard these phrases:

"Your pappy could sell dirt to a farmer!"

"That Daddy of yours could pawn off snow to an Eskimo!"

I once had a boy in high school come up to me and say "When I grow up I want to be just like your Daddy." 

Daddy's a smooth talker. He's a good ole boy. He's everyone's best friend and nobody's fool. His family is his heartbeat. He'd break his back for a dime if he thought one of his kids needed it. In fact, he has.

All this to say... I love my Daddy.  He's a hard man to live up to.

When I was about 16 years old Daddy went to the hospital. Again.  He was in and out of the hospital alot in those days. There was always something wrong with him. But this time he wasn't in our little town's rinky-dink hospital. He was taken to a much larger hospital in the state capitol.  He had been there for a while. It feels like weeks but it could have been only days. I honestly don't remember. Then one night I was being taken home by my sister. I asked when Daddy was coming home. That's when they told me.... he wasn't. He had cancer. The kind that kills. The kind that kills fast. This was in November. They told me that he wasn't expected to make it till Christmas. It was a massive malignant tumor on his pancreas. It had already spread to his liver, which is why he was so yellow. I later learned it was called "jaundice." They told me he was in alot of pain right now. They couldn't keep his pain levels under control and he was maxed out on morphine. Any more and it could be lethal.  They were going to try an operation the next day. The operation wouldn't save him. It would only extend his life... his suffering.  I was blown away. Stunned. I was 16 years old. SIXTEEN. I was way too young to lose my father. I wasn't done with him yet. And so when I got home, I went to bed and I prayed. It was a Tuesday night. I don't know why I remember that, but I do. I layed in bed for a while crying and praying and begging. One thought ran through my mind over and over...

"Jesus, you healed a blind man. You made a lame man walk. You raised people from the dead. You CAN heal my Daddy. Will you? Please? I'm not done with him yet. Please?"

Over and over and over... until this warmth spread over me. A physical warmth and a peace. Instantly I no longer had the desire to cry. I felt warm and safe. In my mind's eye I envisioned myself sitting on the knee of God. I didn't know how it was going to end but I knew it would be okay. And so I slept.

The next day was the longest day of my life. I had gone to school with a promise from my sister that as soon as they knew anything they would call the school. Finally, in French class, I heard an announcement over the PA.  They were calling me and my nephew, G , to the office. When I got to the office I saw my sister, G's mother, standing outside of it's glass walls waiting on us. My pace quickened and my eyes blurred... why was she here to deliver the news in person? It must be bad. Real bad.

But then I saw her smile. And the tears spilled from my eyes and I hugged her. Because I knew. And I was right. God had healed him. The tumor that yesterday was killing him had completely disappeared. No sign of it whatsoever. His color was normal. He was no longer on morphine. In fact, he was demanding to go home. However, Daddy's doctor was hearing none of it. He didn't believe in God, nor Jesus, nor miraculous healing. The doctor just couldn't explain it. He didn't believe it. They did everything but turn my daddy inside out looking for that tumor, and now... 12 years later... they're still coming up empty.

Do I think that every time we pray for healing that it will happen? No. God answers every prayer we pray.  And sometimes the answer is "No." I don't know why God healed my father. Maybe Daddy's healing was a testimony to someone. I don't know. But I am thankful nonetheless. Because I am a Daddy's Girl.

Freebie!

A lovely lady whose blog I recently started following just posted a lovely little freebie. Find her and her sweet deal here.  I already ordered mine!

No I'm not trying to scam you to sign up for anything. I will never knowingly lead you astray.

Hopefully I'll have some more later for you... I have another blog post up my sleeve, I just need the time to put it together! Why are you still reading this??? Go get your stuff!

Getting Around x3watch

I have had two visitors recently who reached my site by doing a google search for "getting around x3watch."  At least one of them roamed the site for quite some time. Sigh. If you reach my site by looking for a way to lie your way around an accountability program... I would urge you to read my story. Please. Don't do it. You have the accountability program there for a reason... someone, either yourself or a loved one, is hurt by your decision to look at porn. Take a step back. Re-evaluate it. It's not worth it. I promise.

Jaded

Over the course of the past few months, since the introduction of The Porn Widow, I have noticed a trend. I am writing posts geared to make my readers jaded towards Amos. Of course I am. The Porn Widow is my crying place. It's my shoulder, my crutch, my vent. When I make posts, it's normally because I'm angry or hurt or a combination of both. This post is geared to tell you all the things I've never told you about Amos. About my Amos.

The physical... He's 5'10 with broad shoulder, a slim waist, dark curly hair, blue eyes with long thick lashes, straight white teeth, and a gotee. His hands are soft, which I think he may be embarrassed about, but I love it. Except in the summer. He loves yard work so in the summer his hands are rough and calloused from overuse... which I also love.

The emotional... He's over confident.... cocky. He's hilarious.  He's extremely intelligent. He hates crowds. Bugs creep him out.  He's very attached to his dog. I think it might bother him more for our dog to die then for a relative to die. He is head over heels in love with his kids. He hates Apple products. Passionately. He hates sports. Passionately.  He's whiny when he's sick. He'll do anything for a head rub.

The facts... He is musically gifted. He plays the drums exceptionally well, plays the guitar well, and sings to boot. He suffers from vasovagal syncope.  This terrifies me because it always looks like a seizure when it happens.  He's dedicated to having no debt... and so we don't. We have two cars that are both paid in full. We have about $300 on a credit card left over from a medical procedure that we're paying. Other than that we owe only on the house. I have him to thank for that.  He enjoys the odd and obscure. When I married him he had a very large and mean looking pirhana. He knows the dumbest facts. He could probably tell you who invented the paper clip or the bulletin board.  He's been on tour with two different (very popular) Christian bands. He desires the approval of his father. He's an IT guy. He has his own blog which he calls a journal and has had it for years... long before we ever married. He loves the Beatles. He enjoys road trips. My daughter knew how to read her ABC's and say them by the time she was 18 months... this is primarily because Amos spent so much time with her.  He's a garbage disposal. He'll eat anything you put in front of him. He loves nature documentaries. He is possibly both the least judgemental and most judgemental person I know.

The embarrassing... He giggles. Like a schoolgirl. He watches cartoons. I've seen him cry at movies. He's abnormally ticklish. If you look like you might be thinking of tickling him, he squirms away giggling.

The husband... He kisses me every day when he wakes up before he leaves. Even when we're mad. He's told me I'm beautiful hundreds of times. Almost daily. He paints my toes for me. He is extremely supportive of me. If I told him that I've decided to fly to the moon in a hot air balloon, he'd start researching ways to get me there. We were both virgins until our wedding night. When we sleep at night he cuddles around me until he has me completely surrounded my his arms and he stays there. We only use about two feet worth of bed space. He once wrote me a song and performed it for me  as a surprise at a coffee house in front of a room full of people. My ears turn him on. I don't know why.  He's on kid duty on Friday and Saturday nights and lets me sleep as late as I want. Usually until 10 or 11.   He does 100% of the laundry. He'd go without so that I could have something that I wanted. He set up a fund so that I could fly home and visit my family whenever I felt like it. Even if he couldn't go with me.  He thinks I'm the best photographer around.

And now you know.

AGAIN with the EFFING Valentines Day Crap!

Folks... What you are about to read is a real live word-for-word conversation I had with Amos via instant messenger. I copied this conversation and am pasting it here. The only changes have been spelling errors on both our parts and obvious grammatical errors.

Psych Majors... Enjoy.


 HIM: I love you every day...including Monday.  I hope you know that. And I hope you know it every day...

ME:  Including Monday?   Did we fight monday? I know you love me 

HIM: This coming monday is the 14th

ME: Ah. Yes I know you love me. And I know Valentine's is against your religion.

HIM: I am going to love you equally that day as I do every day, which is the maximum. I want zero negative feelings. Only positive..like every other day in the year. Are we down with that? or...am I just going to get in trouble for something else or...I'm trying to get a barometer on your feelings. I am not just..telling you how it is. I'm trying to communicate and confer and make everything comfortable

ME: You know how I feel about valentines and I know how you feel about it. It's not new. While I doubt I will be overly happy on Valentines Day, I'm not going to yell at you if thats what you mean.

HIM: Its not about...yelling AT me..its about how you feel inside

ME: You know how I feel though so when you ask "are we down with that" what am I supposed to say?
" Yeah I'm totally cool w/ everything"? For the last 6 years I've tried to enjoy valentines day WITH you and it just hasn't worked so wether you want to admit it or not you're kinda forcing my hand.  I'm not being ugly about it. I'm just saying what it is and Monday will happen and there will be romantic stories all over the place. I'll just turn off the internet and in 24 hours it will be Tuesday and then it will be over.

HIM: It will be a positive great day..just like Tuesday and Sunday and every other day. Thats how I see it.

ME: K. Here's the thing about girls.... They go through their whole adolescent and adult life looking for "the one" and until they find him then Valentines is sooooo depressing. They look forward to the day when they can openly share the day in the year set aside for romance with that special guy who will celebrate with them and you can each spend some time to make the other feel special.  There is ZERO of that with us. This isn't new It's not new feelings . I didn't bring valentines up because I know how you feel about it.  And if you're just going to bring it up to tell me , yet again, how you feel about it... what's the point in bringing it up?   Just to remind me that Monday is gonna be weird?

HIM: My hope was to make it not weird by discussing it ahead of time. If I said nothing...it feels like there would be expectations. And...the point is...that I love you every day and try to make every day special. Every day is valentines day. Every day is maximum. You are special to me every day. Why only have special one day?

ME: Okay. Don't worry. I had and have no expectations.

HIM:  Thats good right?

ME: It's a cop out. The thought is nice but it's a cop out. We don't need to have this conversation. It's not going to make you happy. 

HIM: I'm happy. I refuse to be anything but happy. I want you to be happy too.

ME:  Okay.  I really wish you hadn't brought that up. Now it's all I'm thinking about and I'm hurt and mad.

HIM: I'm sorry. Not my intention. 

ME: Why would you do that other than to just ensure that there were no expectations and to squash that thought right off the bat?

HIM: I wanted you to be happy and feel loved.

ME: By telling me you refuse to celebrate a holiday that I enjoy?!?! Yeah I'm feeling the love. 

HIM: I wanted to say something ahead of time rather than say nothing...and then have this crushing thing happen on Monday.

ME: WHY would I expect ANYTHING on Monday other than the same exact big fat nothing that's happened every other year? All you did was rub me raw and hurt me . You say you care about my feelings on the subject but you care about them only as far as they don't interfere with your own.
 
HIM:  I disagree with that. 

ME: It's certainly what your actions are saying.

HIM: What actions have spoken to you to tell you that I only care about your feelings only as long as they don't interfere with my own?

ME: Valentines day for the past six years.  I suppose it's the lack of actions that confirms it.

HIM: Every choice I make revolves around you. And I'm happy that it does. I love you.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

ME: So you express it by making sure I have no special expectations on Monday?  Let me make this clear....  I have ZERO expectations. I have never had any expections. You have made it perfectly clear to me that Valentines Day is a coorporate rip off and those who celebrate are poor blind sheep being led to the slaughter. And you specialness has given you that unique perspective that no one else has been blessed with. I get it. Please stop rubbing it in. It's hurtful .

HIM: To say special implies there's a day when its not special. Everyday is special.

ME:  Ever day is special is bull crap.  Its a cop out. Don't use it again unless you intend to make it so.

HIM: It is so

ME: Let's please shut the matter and never talk aboiut it again

HIM: You brought it up on your blog. January 20th. That's what makes me think something is up in terms of expectations.

ME: I made it very clear, I thought, that we didn't celebrate Valentines because you hate it. That entire post was dedicated to the fact that we WON'T be celebrating it.

HIM: But that's not the reason. It's not about me hating it or not.

ME: What's it about?

HIM: We don't celebrate it for the same reason we don't celebrate Hanukah. No reason to emphasize something that is at maximum emphasis every day of the year. That is the point.

ME: Really?  Let's think about this.  I have been suffering from lack of romantic attention for a long time. But this is a PERFECT excuse to make me feel special...  a great day set aside to celebrate romance. But instead of honoring my feelings on it (thereby making me feel loved) you choose to boycott because it is already at it's "maximum emphasis."  Your logic is skewed and flawed.

HIM: Disagree we have luniversaries ( side note, a lunarversary is our once monthy date night. ) and anniversaries that are continuous throughout the year.  We have us all the time. The logic is solid. I'm not saying I have been the romantic expert at all times or anything , obviously I haven't... trying to work on that. But...even through the weak times...its been at maximum. 

ME: Well since we're talking about MY feelings on the subject I think I can confidantly say that my love bank is NOT filled. But apparently that doesn't matter.  I dont want to talk about this anymore.  How many times do I have to say to let it drop? Youre just hurting me more and I'm begining to think that maybe you're just trying to pick a fight.

HIM: Trying to avoid any confrontation by dealing with it directly ahead of time.

ME:  There wouldn't have been any if you had just let it lie.  We don't celebrate V Day because you hate it.  I get it. You can paint it however you want to. But that's the way it is. 

HIM: Which is , of course,  not why we don't celebrate it.

ME: Let's please drop it. 

HIM: Ok..dropped


EDIT:

Let me also add that for the past two days (and other various times) he's checked his email in the mornings (a no-no since his prime porn time is in the morning while checking email). AND the other night he got onto the DEX website to request that they not send us telephone books anymore.  He was trying to do so via live chat and ended up talking to this girl about random crap which ended up with her wanting his FACEBOOK ID SO THEY CAN BE FRIENDS (which he denied, thank GOD). I WASN'T home at the time so we, YET AGAIN, broke the "no internet alone time" rule. He cares NILCH about my feelings. The next time he tries to hand me a line of crap like "Every day is special" and "I want you to feel loved" I swear I'm going to throw something. I'm not an effing IDIOT.

Amos cares about what makes AMOS happy. Screw Esther. Maybe we'll get lucky and Esther won't find out.

I'm going to go cry now.

What to say?

I am at a loss. I don't know what to say. We are dancing a dangerous dance, Amos and I. Nerves are raw and wounds are fresh. I am suspecious. I believe he is lieing to me.

Last night I awoke to the movement of the bed shaking in a rythmic motion. I felt his arm moving. I could hear his breathing. He was masturbating. I said his name sharply and he stopped, but said nothing.

"Amos, what are you doing?"
"I don't know. I was asleep."
"You were asleep?"
"Yes."

I watched him get up and out of bed and I could see that I was right. He was definatly "ready."  Please don't think I'm being crude. It's not my intent. I only wish to convey the situation as I expirienced it. He came back to bed and put his arms around me. This morning he sticks to his guns. He says he must have been having an exciting dream but he doesn't remember the dream and he doesn't remember masturbating. I don't believe him. I think he masturbates and lies to be about it, but short of following him around and smacking him when he reaches for his zipper there's nothing I can do about it.

 I caught him in the act once. About six months ago.  Have I told you? It went something like this.

We lay in bed and I was drifting off to sleep and I felt the bed move. Just as I did last night. I lay still for a few seconds thinking that there's no way he would have the gall to do it right next to me. No way. Eventually he became still. I rolled over to reach for him and he jerked away from me. When I asked where he was going he mumbled something about being tired. I asked him then "Amos, are you sure you havent mastubated at all? You havent lied to me?" He assured me that he hadn't lied. Then I asked him again "Are you sure you werent masturbating just a second ago?" Then he confessed but only after he was sure he couldn't weasel his way out of  it. The actions of a coward.  With this little jewel fresh in my mind it's no wonder that I don't believe that he was sleep-masturbating last night. Would you?

There's a constant doubt lingering in my head. A fog that I can't escape. It taints everything and makes me bitter and raw. I see devious motives and plans where there certainly aren't any. I have trouble discerning the difference between what really is a lie and what is probably not a lie. Am I a fool?

Men need sex. Or so I'm told. I'm told that it is a physical need for them, just as water is a need. In that spirit I told Amos that we would make an effort to have sex more often.  That on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays we would make a concious effort to come together at night. My hope in this is that perhaps this would also inspire romance. It hasn't. He did leave me a note yesterday saying "Thanks for making the pie. I love you!" While it's nice to be thanked and the note is a sweet gesture, it's not romantic. I'm starved. How long must I give before I get? Is it selfish to want it? To cry over it? To dream of it?

What to say?

D-Day Approaches...

By D-Day I , of course, mean Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day is always an awkward time at my house. It didn't used to be. Growing up, my Daddy would always give me a big box of heart shaped candies, balloons, and flowers or a stuffed animal. He would have them delivered to school or he would bring them home from work. He did the same for Mama. For my part, I would always make little cards and notes and give them to my parents and it would be a really great day.

But Amos... what to say about Amos? He did do something for me for Valentine's Day once.  The first year we were married I was sitting on the couch with his head in my lap. It was a few days before Valentine's Day. He looked up at me and told me he had got me something for Valentine's Day but he was going to give it to me early. So he gave it to me. I could give you twenty years to guess what it was and you'd still never get it. It was.... a pink blackhead remover. Yep. I kid you not.  He got me a blackhead remover so that I could remove his blackheads.

I enjoy Valentine's Day. Or I used to. For a long time I got him little treats. Sometimes I would leave his favorite candies in his car. Or I'd get him some boxers or pj's or clothes or pizza gift cards. I would give him love notes. Finally it just got too awkward. I enjoy giving him things. I like to spoil him a little. But every time I gave him something he would say thank you and then lecture me on the lameness of Valentine's Day. Amos subscribes to the theory that Valentine's Day was created by Hallmark to rob people of their money.  I subscribe to this theory: Who cares? It's a fun excuse to celebrate. To get dressed up and have a date or a night of romance. I've been over ruled. Continuously. Finally last year I gave up. I did nothing for him. No love notes or hidden treats. We went to get take out (Amos doesn't like sitting in restaurants on Valentine's Day because he says it's too crowded). That was it.

 Last night Amos and I were talking and I asked him what he wanted to do for Valentine's this year. His response: "Nothing." So I said "Where do you want to go eat?" His response: " We eat every night."  And that was that. I give up. Maybe I am lame for liking Valentine's Day, but I don't care. I'm starved for it. I don't like looking  around and seeing all the tenderness and sweetness but not being allowed to participate. I'm okay with being lame.

So, since I won't be celebrating (again) I thought I'd share some fun ideas with you for Valentine's Day.

Creative:

Romance By You - If any of you are Twilight fans, you have the chance to make a new story and your boy toy can be your leading man.

Love Coupons  - There's no need to buy this. I would encourage you to make your own. I actually made one of these for Amos one year (last year). I spent hours on it, but in the course of normal conversation he gave me the "Valentine's Day is lame" talk again and I just threw it away. But it was fun to make.

Fortune Cookies  - There are other great ideas on this page as well.

A Treasure Hunt - Make little love notes with candies or an inexpensive or handmade gift and hide them throughout the house. You're "treasure" can be whatever you want. Maybe the "treasure" is a candle lit bedroom and some new lingerie. Maybe it's a gift card to his favorite restaurant. Or sports tickets. It could be anything.

Nice:

A play - Get gussied up and go out to a nice restaurant and a play at your local theater.

Indoor date night - I personally love the hustle and bustle of a crowd. On Valentine's Day I actually enjoy looking at all the couples and watching them get all gooey eyed. But I know that for some, they'd prefer the quiet solitude of enjoying their significant other alone. So...grab some movies that you BOTH want to see, throw some blankets on the floor with some pillows and popcorn and have a movie night. You can prelude the movie with a special dinner that you both prepare.

Chocolate and Flowers - Men, do not under estimate the power of the flower. Take it from a woman who has never received flowers from her husband. Grab a $10 bouquet. Buy a $5 vase, $1 bag of decorative rocks, and a $1 spool of fancy ribbon. Put a handful of rocks in the bottom of the vase and tie your ribbon around the vase. Then trim your flowers and place them in your vase. Throw in a heart felt love note and you're gold. You just spent $17 bucks and made your wife feel very special and loved. Remember, the romance comes from the EFFORT not the cost.

Naughty:

His and Hers Lingerie - You knew that one would make the list somewhere.... so there it is.

Game Night - I'm not talking Monopoly here people. Strip poker. Or this . Or this.

Bubble Bath - Crawl into a hot bathtub full of bubbles and oils and enjoy each other. Take turns cleaning each other. To add to the romance, put on soft music and light the room with candles.


There are a million ideas on the Internet. I encourage you to make your man or woman feel special that day. Everyone deserves to feel special. Enjoy.

Care to Have Sex With a Widow?

Did you know that "widow porn" was...like... a thing?  You would not believe how many hits I get from people who do Google searches looking for "porn with widow"  or "porn sex with widow" or "porn and widow". That means that people mistakenly end up on my blog while they're out searching for a way to get their rocks off.  I wonder what they're thinking? I wonder if I have any readers who enjoy porn? I wonder if I have any readers who are addicted to it?  Who are hiding it from their significant others? Who are ashamed of it? Who are proud of it?

I wonder...

Do you look at porn?

Here's an honest question to the masses... What is going through your mind when you make that decision to look at porn? Do you look at it with your spouse/significant other? Do you hide it form them? Have you been caught? I want to know what goes on in the mind of those who do it. Or even those who have EVER done it.

Feel free to answer anonymously and please please please be respectful to your fellow commenter.

I'm Baa-aack

My goal was to try and get back into the swing of things this past weekend but honestly I was just having too much fun. Amos was home and my need for adult human contact was reaching an all time high, I jumped on it. We didn't do anything wild and crazy (still healing from surgery, remember?) but it was so good to just be with him. We were swimming in baby puke and toddler diarrhea but I was happy. After the kiddos went to bed on Sunday, Amos and I popped in Super Mario Brothers 3. Yes that's right. On old school Nintendo. There was alot of teasing and laughing and smiles. It was good stuff.

Until about 4 AM.

About 4 AM is when I started to get the bug. My sweet babies decided to share their virus with both myself and Amos. Those little monsters are lucky they're so cute.

Should we talk about the thing you are really wondering about? Shall we talk about sex? About porn? About masturbation? About romance?

Let's do that. There has been no sex. Abdominal surgery has seen to that. I worry about masturbation. He says there's been none. I ask him and he assures me he's clean. Honestly, I don't believe him. I want to. I try to. I don't. Trust hasn't been reestablished. Maybe he hasn't. I hope he hasn't. Mostly, I hope he isn't lieing.

The program I use monitor our computer is called x3watch . It's the program that caught the porn sites in August. Amos is aware of the program. Last week I found the x3watch program pulled up. I asked Amos about it. He said he didn't do it. I found it open and I KNOW I didn't do it. There's no one else in the house. That means Amos did it.  I closed the program and moved on.

I would like to interject here that when you're in a situation like mine, when you are trying desperately to reestablish trust, your mind does some interesting things. You start to wonder... did I pull the program up and forget about it? Did I click on it accidentally and didn't realize it? Does it have some weird automatic setting that causes it to pop up automatically? My brain wants to rationalize it. If this isn't proof that I want to trust him I don't know what it. I'm basically begging to be able to call myself an idiot in order clear his name. Weird huh?

Back to the story. Amos has listed himself as an accountability partner on the x3watch program. This means that he, along with myself, will receive the accountability reports via email. I am 100% okay with that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with him receiving a copy of the same email I have. But now I have the x3watch program screen pulled up for no apparent reason? And apparently no one did it? What's a girl to conclude other than he's tampering with it? I think he sees it as a challenge. He's an IT guy after all. Computers are his forte. Years ago, I put Net Nanny on our computer. It took him about two days to learn how to disable and get around it without my knowledge or notification. Recently (a month or two ago) during a conversation Amos and I were having about our current accountability program, he confessed this to me. In this confession, he told me not to rely on x3watch. He told me he could get around it if he wanted to. It was a rare moment of raw unprompted honesty. And I wonder now, is this what is happening?

All in all, we've had no arguments. Only this cloud of doubt hanging around tainting things. We received "The Love Dare" book for Christmas and we will be participating in that when things calm down. Our next counseling appointment is the 17th. Monday. Honestly, I'm not excited about it. I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it. I feel like we're spending 90 bucks for the ability to feed her 50 minutes worth of back story. There has been no "Let's try doing this when you get home..." Nothing that we can work on at home all. Obviously some changes need to be made but nothing has been pointed out as an area we can work on.  I'm not sure how long I'll be keeping that up without some forward momentum.

I must say this though.... Amos has picked up a tremendous amount of slack since my surgery. I've been useless and he's working hard to keep me comfortable. I couldn't ask for anything more from him, and I'd be willing to bet that there aren't alot of men out there who would do so much for their ladies. For that, I'm humbled and thankful.

Let's talk about weight. I weigh 217 lbs. Big girl eh? It's not so bad when you take into consideration that in September I weighed 286 lbs (right after I had my son) and in November (when I really decided to push to lose the weight) I weighed 250. This means that in less than four months I've lost 69 lbs. It's hard to feel bad about that. But I still do. I get excited when I look in the mirror. I see that my face is smaller. Then I'll run an tell Amos all about my smaller face. When I look at my hands, they're smaller too. And my belly, and legs, and arms... But... when I look at myself all put together... I still look the same to me. I still see every stretch mark, every roll, every dimple. I can see the loss when I only look at one individual piece, but the whole picture still depresses me. I'm not stopping. I still have a long way to go, and I'll do it. I'll do it.

I'm alive...

Barely. Nah. That's not right. I'm just whining. I'm on pain killers that work for an hour and a half and knock me out for three hours at a time so the past few days have been a blur. Thanks for the well wishes and prayers. I've been blessed in that regard. I have a very supporting social network, both in person and in the big wide world of the Net.  Thank you.

The procedure its self wasn't bad. I did not puke in case you're wondering. I was wheeled back into an operating room that had to be something like 20 degrees. My surgeon, anesthesiologist, and a gaggle of nurses all stood ready. I was moved from the cold and hard pre-op table to the colder and harder operation table. The nurse placed a mask over my face (I was told it was oxygen) and I heard someone say "You should start feeling tired soon." Next thing I know I'm in the recovery room and fully lucid. There was no woozy period of waking up. At least not for me. When I opened my eyes I knew exactly where I was and what had happened. What I didn't realize is that there was a large plastic tube down my throat and I began trying to talk around it. The nurse in recovery pulled it from my mouth and I told her to go get Amos. Eventually she did and after the required period of waiting, I went home. It hurts. I won't lie. I greatly underestimated the pain. I thought it would be the incision site only that hurt. But that is wrong. So wrong. It hurts from the area under my breasts down to my hips and around through my back. I consider myself pretty tough when it comes to pain management and I must admit... this is getting old. There's a fun new crackling noise that I make while I breathe now. I only notice it when I'm laying down and there's no pain associated with it but I'll be glad when that's gone nonetheless.

In my rare lucid periods I keep myself entertained with my roku and my nookcolor.  I'm currently plowing my way through Jane Eyre. A book that wouldn't be considered light reading (in my opinion) even on my best days. I've got the general gist though. Amos is a gem among men. I haven't had to lift a finger. He will be running the kids to his parents house on the days he has to work and in the evenings he's right there when I need him. When  I say I want food, he's on top of it. When I want something just out of reach, he comes running from across the house. He's working double time. I think he might be a smudge envious of the "time off" I get to take.

My medicine is starting to take effect. I could write more, but I've already caught myself writing out our "real" names instead of using our pseudo identities. If I value our anonymity, I should stop.

I haven't been able to keep up with your blogs. I'm anxious to get back to them. I am especially anxious because I know that one of my readers is expecting a new addition soon and I'm itching to find out more. I'll be peeking in as I can.

Until next time.