So the last post, Mr. W and I were basically done.  Finished.  *sniff* Over.  Long story short, I begged and pleaded, we agreed to give it another go, had fabulous make-up sex, and were happy again.   But then that evil wedding monster started climbing back out of its hole and gnawing at our ankles.  Money, stress.  Stress, money.  Planning, planning, planning.  MELTDOWN!  After 2 anxiety attacks in less than a week, Mr. W was ready to commit me, or at the very least heavily medicate me!

Last night we agreed to call the whole thing off.  We would attempt to get some of the money back that we’d put in, but were ok if it didn’t work out that way.  Better to have our sanity and each other than to sink even more money into something we may not both survive to even see.  (I’m being a little dramatic here…a little…)  The biggest problem was the $800 in non-refundable, non-transferable plane fare that his mom just shelled out for the trip here.  She’s not as much in a place to be just “ok” with losing that kind of money.  But, we intended to pay her back, re-compensate anyone else who put any significant amount of money into this whole fiasco, and call it a day.  And then, somewhere down the line, when the stars align and the moon is full and Earth is in the shadow of Mars on the third Saturday of an even month…  we would elope.  Or rather, Mr. W’s version of eloping which includes all four kids, my mom to take care of the kids, probably his mom because she’s always wanted to go to Vegas, my dad because, hey, LA is just right there, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  Can you say “lots of money?”  So not the point.  But that was to be discussed at a later, more suitable (i.e. less stressful) time.

Then it hit me:

We probably aren’t going to get a refund on the venue or the photographer.  Mom-n-fam’s plane tickets are lost without use on THAT weekend (damn Delta and their jacked up policies to steal money…), and neither of us really want to break the news to our families.  Why not reduce our evil wedding monster with a guest list of over 100 people back to a small, informal, family only affair that we both had pictured in the back of our minds to begin with.  Damn wedding industry and their manipulative, more-is-better-and-less-is-crap ways!  So I put it to Mr. W………………and he smiled again!  All planning can be done by the end of next week.  There is a kitchen at the venue, so we can cook a family style meal, set up 2 or 3 tables (instead of 14, plus buffet tables, plus DJ table…..) and have a small ceremony in the garden with our $100 minister.  I get my fancy pictures.  He gets the Wal-Mart special paper plates.  Our families get to meet, and we all get to smile together.  We don’t lose the money, and we don’t lose our minds (or each other) in the process.  Case closed.  Happy again. 

Now I just have to figure out how to tell all our friends…damn wedding industry and their etiquette and “things to do.”  Stupid “Save-the-Date” cards!

I had a detailed post done two days ago explaining all this, but when I was a spell-check away from publishing, my computer shit itself and all was lost.  Hrumph.  Yeah, it’s been that kind of week. Month. Year?  Bear with me as I try to recap…

Moving, wedding, teenagers, the boy and the girl, too many projects at work, finances, Mr. W…I think that was all.  You know, basically everything that encompasses my everyday!  No biggie.

We move in 9 days.  We aren’t packed.  I packed 9 boxes in the last two days and besides the boxes sitting in there, you wouldn’t know it.  We don’t have a truck.  We don’t have definite moving help.  We don’t have someone to rent our house.  WTF?!  And I’m about 3 inches from blowing up on someone about it.  Someone being Mr. W unfortunately as he is pretty good at being a target of opportunity.  Not that he’s totally innocent, but still, I’m holding back.  Things promise to be better, much better once we move…and as much as I want to believe promises, part of me is always skeptical.

The wedding is in just over 100 days.  We don’t have a DJ.  We don’t have invitations.  We don’t have tables, chairs, a tent, or any other rental stuff.  We don’t have garments except for my dress and shoes, which is unwearable until it’s tailored.  And we are slacking on the desire to have a wedding at all.  (Talk of doing the elope thing has been flung around lately) What do we have? A minister and a location.  Sweet.  September 25th promises to be number 3 on my “best day ever” list when all is said and done, but that’s not for another 100 plus days.

Teenagers…need I say more?  I love them, but they are teens, and teens bring drama.  I think it may be part of their lifeblood.  I remember my teen years vividly (well, the ones that aren’t clouded by chemicals anyway…) and I have hold no grudge to any other teen…but still.  And the little ones, again, need I say more?  The girl got Lyme from me so now I am forced to watch her go through what I did and feel nothing but pure, unadulterated guilt for “infecting” her.  And the boy, well, one more month until the end of the school year, which means a summer away with his dad. 

Work is work is work.  And finances are finances.  I spread myself too thin in both areas and then suffer the wrath of my own decisions after.  I could kick my own ass for it, but really, what good would that do? 

And Mr. W…relates to all of the above.  Stress is contagious, but when we both have it, it only multiplies exponentially.  I long for my loving man who is just so overtired these days that he seems to be in hibernation…permanently. 

I passed by his old apaprtment the other day, and ever since have been reminiscing on our time there.  It was small and humble, but I have nothing but fond memories of those four walls.  We got to know each other there.  We fell in love there.  We had “our” time there.  Yes, we had fights and heartbreaks and even broke up more than a couple times, but there were far more wonderful days, and nights, in those spaces.  And I miss them so.  We were genuinely excited by, and about each other there.  We held each other up.  We cared and loved and were one. 

Today I picked up a package from the post office.  When the lady brought it to me, she had a giant grin on her face and asked if it was a diploma or some other equally exciting document.  I told her I hoped so, and then ripped open the package right there while she gave me an impromptu drum roll.    And it was!  As the lady at the post office applauded and showered me with congratulatory praise, I opened my official Bachelor of Science diploma, beaming, I’m sure!  Yea!  I brought it to work to show off, and my dear, dear friend and maid of honor, C, has been announcing it wherever we go, bringing out smiles and praise and congratulations from all around me.  Finally getting hold of Mr. W, I gave him my wonderful news, to which I was first ignored, then given a half ass, forced, not even trying to show any emotion at all (unless boredom is an emotion) “yea, you got your diploma.” Period**.  Hmmm….if I hadn’t already been choking back tears for days and therefore mastered the art, I’m sure that would have brought on quite the waterworks.  Nice.  Well, at least my less than personal friend co-workers are happy for me. 

**His excuse? “You graduated months ago and haven’t been excited or brought it up until today.”  Well today I got my Pretty Piece of Paper!  My countless hours, thousands of dollars, and days off my life due to stress have amounted to something concrete, finally.  Excuse my hopes for some small amount of validation.  *Sigh*

And the count-down begins: 35 days until I get to see the boy again.  I drove him up to meet his dad yesterday (yuck), and he won’t be back until our two-week vacation in July.  The girl will be continuing her normal schedule, but the summer will have a lot of kid-less time that I’m really not happy about.  As frustrating as they can be, it is so much worse when they simply aren’t around.  After the two weeks home, the boy will be back at his dad’s for another three weeks before school starts.  *sigh*

But, that gives me roughly 56 days to get my poop together and make some healthy changes in my/our life:

Step 1)  Physical health. 

We began today.  Mr. W and I woke at the crack of freaking dawn (415am) and got our lazy, unfit butts to the gym.  I’ve bubbled out here and there (here being my tummy and there being my butt and thighs) to the tune of adding a size and a half.  Mr. W has been complaining that he’s gained too, although I don’t see it, so I figured it’s a good start.  Our schedule consists of 3 days of weight training, and 2 days of cardio (running, blah!) to get us started. 

We intended to quit smoking along with the gym routine, but, yeah, that didn’t work out so well.  Smoking is a hard thing to put down.  My personal goal is to be quit by the time the boy comes home.  Hmmm…we shall see… The hardest part is that Mr. W smokes and isn’t ready to quit.  Even when we try together, we usually talk each other into cheating.  Well, at least we are united! 

Sleeping kind of goes along with the gym.  We both suffer from insomnia, and we both are constantly tired.  Not good.  So I set my alarm on my phone to go off at 9pm, and our agreement is at that point we wrap up whatever we are doing and head upstairs.  Our biggest challenge will be watching only one (or none, if we don’t have the time) episode of LOST a night.  We are into season 4 now, the season I haven’t seen.  And those of you who watch know that cliffhanger, accompanied by the “dun” and the “LOST” at the end of each episode is like cutting a crack addict off mid-puff! 

And the diet.  Well, not really a diet in the sense of the evil version.  More like a diet-adjustment.  Cutting back to cutting out fast food for one.  (By fast food I mean the Don, the King, the Colonel, and that red-headed chick.  We don’t really ring the Bell much, for, *ahem* other reasons!)  My vegetable garden has committed suicide by drowning…who knew you had to incorporate drainage?  Probably the same person who knew we were going to get days on end of torrential downpours in the middle of June!  So I will be hitting up our local produce stands, planning our meals a week prior, and avoiding the snack eisles in the grocery store…well, mostly…  Mr. W started us off right last night with the fabulous yumminess of eggplant parmesan.  Mmm, mmm, good!  Seriously!

Step 2)  Mental health.

No, not that kind of mental health.  I’m talking about peace of mind.  The house is cluttered and difficult to keep straight.  So we will be doing something about that.  The biggest areas to purge are the toys and the clothes, both very difficult for me.  My kids actually play with all their toys.  They cycle through them regularly, and have gotten very good about putting them away.  That said, they have a lot of freaking toys!  The clothes are hard too, especially with me in this weird body place that is bigger than the majority of my clothes, but is planning on being back there soon with the whole gym thing…plus, I really really like clothes!

After the toys and clothes, we will  move on to general organizing and purging as we go along.  The bookshelves, the utility/laundry room, our desk spaces, the kids closets (currently used for very disorganized storage of God knows what), and our bedroom.  I truly believe a cluttered house leads to a cluttered mind, and we all know I don’t need any more of that!

Then it’s some us time.  He doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to implement some sort of regular couple activity, even if it’s in the form of a “date night,” as cliche as that is.  We deserve it.  We need it.  Nuff said.    

Step 3)  Financial health.

We are planning a wedding, looking for a house, saving for braces, college, emergencies, paying off our February vacation (on credit card)…and yet we can’t go a week without a visit to Target, WalMart, BestBuy, GameStop, Old Navy, and/or PetCo.  (Sometimes all of the above!)  I don’t know how yet, but we are going to be diving into our financial matters over the summer and figure out how exactly we are going to accomplish our goals, together, with the least amount of pain.

I figure planning and organization are key in all of this…but as I suck at both, I could use some tips or pointers on how to make it work and especially how to stick with it.  I’m sure I’m not the only one trying to make healthier choices in my life, so if anyone out there is in the midst and has figured out something that works for them, let me know.  I will post the best/most helpful ideas in an update post in 2 weeks. 

I have so much crap swimming around in my head that has now melted together into an ongoing din of noise.  (Is that the right use for that word?  Oh, well I don’t know, and don’t really care at this point.  The fact that I can put any word other than “ugh” down is a feat in iteslf!)  I wouldn’t really say that I am stressed, although I probably am.  But I don’t feel stressed, just, well, kind of blank.  Knowing me like I do, I’m almost sure I am stressed, so now I’m just waiting for that wave to hit.  Maybe I was wrong in my analogy of stress.  Maybe it’s more like a hurricane, and I’m just stuck in the eye. 

So what’s going on in the world of Writebrite and co. you ask?  Well, where should I begin…(knowing all the while once I get it all out in one place/list, it will look totally inconsiquential and silly!)

The boy is leaving for the summer.  I’ve known this was coming for, oh, like his whole life, but still.  It’s a constant thought in there with all the others.

The clock is steadily counting down to the drama over the girl.  Will we move? (a whole new crowd of thoughts to add to the din)  Will ex#2 move?  Will I have to hire another lawyer and do another round of court-fighting?  (Yeah, like 4 years and 3, yes 3 lawyers for the boy wasn’t enough for one lifetime?!) Will she suffer through it all like the boy did?  Will it change her from her happy-go-lucky child-like self into a shell of a child, containing insecurity and stress all her own? 

Moving.  Well, we want to move.  We probably need to move.  But where? How? When? How much?  And what the hell do we do with the house we are in? 

School is holding steady at fairly easy and do-able…for now.  Programming has kicked my ass a couple times before, so I’m waiting for this new class/language to follow suit.  Just waiting…  Plus there is the possibility I will be taking the previously ass-kicking language again before I’m graced with that pretty piece of paper that ultimately does nothing for me, so yeah, there’s that too.

Work has also been suprisingly peaceful as of late.  Hmmm…we all know that won’t last.  And if it does?  Well, I’m supposed to be figuring out where I would like to expand my horizons, as in find a new job to match my newly degreed self…did I mention supposed to?

Wedding planning hit a snag over the weekend with Mr. W.  There were about 2 hours in there where there was no wedding left to plan.  Yeah, always a fun time.  But we overcame, and the impending-although-totally-willed-against stress that probably maybe most-likely will come from all that is also on the horizon, camped next to the girl, the boy, the house, and the job.

And it’s around the time of the full moon…which for all of you who don’t know me and my crazy tendency to blame external occurances for internal turmoil, means that Mr. W is going through his stressful period.  He’s a little more closed off than normal, and stressing silently (although totally obviously) about every little thing.  I’m hoping with all my might that I’m not part of the list, but historically…

In a perfect world, we’d win the lottery and all our troubles, stresses, looming horizonal problems (yeah, I know “horizonal” isn’t a word, but you get the point) would melt away in the shower of money.  They say money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell buys a lot of stuff…like houses, and lawyers, and other people’s completely self-serving but still undying loyalty. 

Ok, yeah, not happening…so in a semi-perfect world we would find a house that works for us, with a big yard, in the next year.  We would hold our already planned to be casual wedding in that big yard, with all our loved ones in attendance.  Ex#2 would release his hold on the girl, and let her start school with her brother in the fall, strengthening their bond.  I would get my ass to Human Resources and the HR chicky would see my degree and find the perfect job for me (both qualification and personal fulfillment wise), which would incidentally come with a GIGANTIC raise so Mr. W could stop stressing about school and work and all that other stuff.  He could then just relax and enjoy the fabulous new dream job he picked up last month. 

But we all know the world isn’t perfect, or even semi-perfect, so the din continues.  There are probably other things in there, contributing to the noise, but it’s so hard to pick anything out in the mess so I’ll try to concentrate on the squeakiest wheels.  Meanwhile, I’ll be taping windows and filling sandbags, keeping watch for the other side of that eye…

**on a side note, there are no misspelled words in this post (according to the handy wordpress spell-checker)  Is that even possible?  Yea, me!  But of course I didn’t actually write about marraige, which coincidentally is a word I misspell every. single. time!  Does that say anything about my propensity for failure in marraiges, I wonder?

So a weekend or two ago, Mr. W and I decided to push up the wedding.  I still haven’t figured out why, or even more than that, why I’m ok with it amidst our seems-like weekly (or at the least bi-weekly) blow outs that leave us shaking and reaching for the door.  But somehow we pull back together (it’s the love, I tell you!) and we figure it out, and still like each other enough to want to make it official (whatever that means).  I know, I’m sounding a little cynical here.  But seriously.  Take two non-religious people, add two failed marriages apiece, add four kids (oh, and now a dog…more on that later), sprinkle it with life, you know, work, school, exes, bills, and give it a good stir…do we really need a pretty piece of paper to make our love official?  But he wants it, like now, and yes, that geeky-girly part of me really, really, really wants to marry the (thankfully) found man of my dreams (and I call him Mr. Wonderful).

The new date, instead of the laid-back cushiness of two years away, is now a little over a year away.  We’re looking at Fall of 2010.  So now I’m freaking out a bit.  Not at all in a cold-feet sort of way, but rather a oh-my-god-how-am-I-going-to-get-this-planned sort of way.  My dress, bridesmaid dresses, locale, catering, flowers, photographer, rings, officiant-oh-my!  And then there is the money side.  Apparently weddings are expensive.  I wouldn’t know, since I haven’t really had a real wedding yet.  While we are doing well on the day-to-day living, we are not paying down our debt in any hurry, nor are we saving anything at all, so with braces (W’s girl), college (W’s boy), possibleprobable lawyers (ex#2), the end of my deferment on my student loans, and the hope of buying a new house next summer looming on the horizon, there isn’t much left–ok, there’s a deficit left for wedding planning.    I swore I wouldn’t let the wedding planning get me stressed, it’s a happy time…right?  But the money thing, whoa, nelly! That might just do it.

So I’m trying to figure out what is important here.  I want an outdoor wedding, so that will be cheaper than renting a hall.  We aren’t all blingy and stuff so the rings won’t be uber-extravagant, savings there.  Although I didn’t do a big wedding, I did do a big, princess-style poufy dress for my first one, and hated it, so I’m definitely going with a simple, flowey sort of thing this time = less expensive.  So far so good.  Catering…hmmmm…I have no idea, but the food must be good.  And then there is the photography.  That’s where the money is going to get complicated, I’m afraid.  I have this image of what I want, and it’s really important to me to get it.  And it will cost to get it.  Hmmm…if only I could take my own pictures of the wedding with me in them……if only……..

In light of the new deadline for planning, I’m sure my blog will reflect the new focus of my spare time, either in lack of posts (I really hope not) or posts all about the planning.  I will try to keep it entertaining, I promise!  There will be some creativity involved, I’m sure, as the budget requires creative thinking.  In the meantime, wish me luck!

“The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love.  The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation.  To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.”  –Anne Morriss (from my Starbucks cup)

I love this quote.  It inspires one of those hmmm… moments every time I read it.  I have issues with commitment in all areas of my life.  It’s something I’ve struggled greatly with over the years.  My issues usually rear their ugly heads in the form of not making an effort, not taking the chance, not putting my whole heart into something for fear of failure.   It’s a problem that has grown silently within me throughout my youth, and while I have finally acknowledged its existence, I have yet to find a way to overcome it. 

Oh, yeah.  And now I’m getting married. 

Change scares us all, even if just a little bit.  It’s hard to go outside of your comfort zone, but I’m not sure which is harder: leaving a long standing comfort zone which has been cultivated over a long period of time, or leaving one that you haven’t really had much time to even get that comfortable in.  Either way, it happens and you are faced with a choice: commit, or do nothing and hope for the best.  While I pride myself on being the optimistic, hopeful type (facing much criticism for my perceived naivete along the way) I’m really not that hopeful in my everyday.  I’m actually scared shit-less most of the time that things in fact will not be ok in the end.  Yes, yes.  I talk a good game.  I try to believe in hope and faith and all that good stuff.  Sometimes it works and I really do feel good.  But then sometimes my fear gets the best of me and I melt into a quivering pile of jelly, slipping through the cracks of my life like rainwater down a drain.  Anybody got a bucket? 

I am trying to concentrate on the fun parts of getting married.  I think I may have been a wedding planner in another life.  A fabulous one at that!  I love surfing the net, unearthing all possible options, planning my budget, discovering deals, coming across the perfect location…it’s exhilarating!  So when I start to feel a little jelly-ish on this whole wedding/commitment thing, I plan, and it’s working so far.  Now to find a comparable plan of attack for the other areas of my life…hmmm….

We picked a date (I think).  A semi-hard, seems to fit, probably-but-it’s-so-far-away-to-be-absolutely-certain date two years and some change from now.  Two years seems like such a far off place, yet the fear that I knew would come is bubbling up inside of me, threatening to tear me apart and send me running for the hills.  

I love this man with all my heart.  He is my perfect match.  He is the guy I always dreamed about but never thought really existed.  For lack of a better cliche, he’s the one.  So why am I scared?

Well, two failed marriages on both sides (yeah, two each).  Leaving any stories of his two exes behind, I know how horribly dysfunctional mine were.  I remember the screaming fights.  I remember the tears.  I remember the wretched things that were said and done.  I remember feeling trapped and unloved and miserable.  I remember the depression and the pain and the hopelessness.  I can’t unremember it.  And it’s causing a semi-paralytic fear in me.

What exactly am I afraid of?  I’m afraid that it’s too fast (knowing that by the time we say “I do” we will have known each other for over 4 years and dated/been engaged for over 3.  Besides that, our courtship was short, but very in depth.  We had both reached a point that we knew what we do and do not want out of life, love, and a relationship, and could communicate that effectively.  I’m willing to bet most relationships don’t start even half as openly and soundly as ours.).  I’m afraid we will fight (knowing that if either of us is human we will in fact fight).  I’m afraid we will be mean to each other, the kind of mean that we bore as well as dished out to our previous two spouses.  I’m afraid things will change between us once we settle down in the same house (in the same country!) and immerse in the daily grind of just being.  I’m afraid the ex-men were right about me, that it was all my fault, and that I will drive Mr. W away in the same trend.  I’m afraid I will fail, again, leaving one or both of us heartbroken, again, and damaged, again. 

How am I dealing with all this fear?  I am communicating with my man.  I am sharing my fears and letting him reassure me.  And I am diving so heartily into the planning (yes, I know it’s 2 years away, but it’s like shopping therapy on crack, really!) and, dammit, it’s going to be the most perfect wedding ever!!

What does all this mean for my readers?  You will constantly incessantly occasionally have to bear my ranting about my fears anxiety feelings, alternating, of course, with in depth descriptions of my wedding planning adventure.  Happy reading!