Where are your manners?

Now is a great time to have Ginger's latest Bring Back the Words prompt, because oh boy, do I have something to get off my chest.

Buddy is the best man in a wedding on Thursday afternoon (not evening. Afternoon). Groom is his friend since 4th grade. He lived with us as a roommate for 6 months after his first marriage fell apart and started dating Bride before he'd even moved out from his home with his first wife. Anyway, Buddy is the best man. On Sunday, after dinner, Groom asked us to come meet him at the bar his brother works at for a drink. Buddy told me on the way over that at the bachelor/ette party (yes, joint), Groom had asked if he could stay with us this week because Bride wants to build wedding day anticipation by being apart, and that was probably what he wanted to talk to us about. Buddy said Groom told him it would mean a lot to him, and who am I to say no, and fine whatever. So we had a couple of drinks and went home. 

Yesterday, apparently, Groom texted Buddy, "Hey, Brooke mentioned the rehearsal dinner last night. My parents are only inviting the bridal party." So Buddy texted me that I'm not invited to the RD, and I was like, "rude, but whatever." But now, the more I think about it, I am pissed. Okay, so judge me how you will, but I spent the better part of a couple of years spending a lot of free time on the Etiquette board of TheKnot.com. I'm pretty well versed in the etiquette of weddings, and have particularly strong feelings about a few things. Yes, I acknowledge that there are some things that are antiquated and that etiquette evolves with social and cultural norms, but one thing I do not ever feel is appropriate is inviting only one spouse to a social event. Okay, I can think of one exception - I was fine with a coworker only inviting us without our spouses to his small wedding, as I was pleased to be invited without Buddy than not at all to witness his wedding and Buddy would have been bored anyway. I think the coworker exception can be reasonable. But for 99.99% of situations, spouses should be invited. Period, end of story. I don't care if you hate your best friend's husband of 15 years because he has awful taste in clothes and wear mandals everywhere and has an annoying hyena laugh that he uses after his endless inappropriate jokes. He's your best friend's husband and you invite him and smile and thank them for coming and thank your lucky stars she married him and took him off the market so you'd never have to. 

So I'm uninvited to the rehearsal dinner. Or more like not invited to begin with, which is rude in and of itself. I am trying to remember, but I think the envelope the rehearsal dinner invitation came in was addressed to Buddy without my name, so YES, I wrongfully assumed I was invited. BUT, the invitation came from Groom's parents, and Groom's mom also hosted Bride's shower, the invitation to which I received only two days prior to said shower. So I probably didn't think anything of it, or I chalked it up to general ignorance or mess (this is not the most well planned wedding, folks) and didn't give it another thought. Never did it actually cross my mind that I wasn't invited. Because people with decent manners, which I assume just about everyone to be, wouldn't do that. 

So aside from the etiquette part of it, where the gracious Emily Post tells us that we invite spouses and we go out of our way to make our guests comfortable because etiquette is about being a gracious host and not an asshole, I have a few other reasons I'm miffed and ranty. First, Groom's sister and her family live next door to Groom's parents. Neither Sister nor her children are in the bridal party. So is she invited? Kind of hard to have a fancy dinner for one child with the other next door and not invite them. What about the husband of Bride's sister, who is the maid of honor? Will Bride insist her brother-in-law is invited? And if she does, do I have any grounds to feel "why her and not me? I'm a spouse, too." It makes me feel like my marriage is not being acknowledged. Buddy and I are a unit. And if an exception is going to be made for anyone else on this "bridal party only" nonsense, it's hurtful that it's not going to be made for us.

Second, I'm making the Bride and Groom's wedding cake and cupcakes. I know that doesn't make me bridal party, but considering I'm the wife of the best man and I'm allowing the Groom to stay in my home while they do this anticipating the moment thing (yes, I'm eye-rolly), does that not give me a leg up for an invite? So basically, Groom and Buddy are going to go to Groom's parents' house for dinner Wednesday while I'm knee deep in cake frosting and covered in flour and I'm left to fend for myself. That just seems... rude. On a different level from not being invited just based on my spousal status. Like how awkward is it going to be when Groom and Buddy leave the house Wednesday evening and they're all, "see you later Brooke. We're going to go have dinner. Thanks again for making my wedding cake." Is that not weird to anyone else?

And something someone else brought up is that this event is linked to a wedding, an event where one ACQUIRES a SPOUSE. it was actually mentioned in the context of someone on Twitter saying they hadn't been invited to an actual wedding (as opposed to a rehearsal dinner) with their spouse, but still. Weddings are about marriage and joining families and celebrating love, and these people are basically saying "eff you" to all of that, in my mind. "Let's celebrate Bride and Groom getting married while completely disregarding the marriages of the people Bride and Groom care enough about to stand up in this circus of a wedding." Makes sense. 

So, yeah, I'm pissed. It's just rude on many levels. And I'm not the only one who's upset by it. My husband is, too. Do you know what it takes to make a guy like Buddy - who doesn't know Etiquette from Adam - say "WTF?" Asshatery, that's what. I admit, I'm lucky in this way - we like to be together a lot. He's fine with me going out and doing things on my own and with my friends and doesn't feel that he always wants to accompany me. But he likes me to come with him to most things when he has to go some event or whatnot. He's bummed I won't be there with him, and his general statement is "at least I'll have an excuse to leave early - I want to come home and help with the cupcakes you're making as a favor to them." (It's not truly a favor. They paid me. But their other friend/baker backed out, and I basically have to use my vacation so that I can make cake and cupcakes for a Thursday afternoon wedding. So yes, it feels favor-y). So he gets it. And I feel justified in feeling totally snubbed.

That's my rant. People, invite spouses to things. It's the right thing to do, if for no other reason than to keep people from getting pissed off and going on the interwebs to complain about you.  

Check out the link-up on Ginger's blog

The One

Four years ago today, I married my husband. I admit I was a little scared - it's a big life decision, and no matter how much you love someone, there's something serious about the commitment of forever. I wasn't sure if I ever believed in "The One." Words like "soul mate" made me want to gag. There are six billion people on this planet, and it was hard for me to wrap my head around the literal thought that there was only one man I was meant to be with. I believed that there can be multiple people that we could cross paths with and make a happy life with, yet I knew confidently that Buddy was the person I wanted to spend our lifetime with. I was honored and thrilled to be marrying him, but I guess you can say I didn't fully "get" it.

And then infertility happened. Something that could have ripped us apart and strained our young marriage brought us closer and put us on the same word of the same paragraph of the same proverbial page. It was devastating for us, but we were a team. He was my rock, and he loved me when I fell apart and came back together again and again. We never lost sight of what we most valued - our marriage. Even now, as we move forward and enjoy life as our family of two, we are so in sync with our decisions and goals that it's hard to imagine doing any of this with any one else. Sure he drives me nuts with little things - we're both only human. But on the things that really and truly matter, we're a perfect match, moreso than I could have imagined or foreseen. I finally understand what it really means to find and love The One.

Happy Birthday, Buddy. And Happy Anniversary. I love you more and more every day, larger than I know how to express, and more fully than I can understand.

I'm an Auntie!

Like it did for a lot of people, middle school sucked for me. Absolutely S-U-C-K-E-D. People were awful, mean, nasty, and I hated every second of my two years in that hell. High school was my new beginning. Most of the kids from my high school went to our neighborhood school, but I went to a magnet school across town. It was awesome to meet all new people. I stopped doing synchronized swimming after 4 years and decided to focus on traditional competitive swimming as a freshman, and I was great at it. I took art and dance and excelled at science. I discovered contact lenses and hair blow dryers. It was a totally new world. I made friends - people who liked me and were kind and included me at lunch and after school activities.

At the end of the school year, one of the closest friends I'd made, S, was celebrating her birthday with a sleep-over and invited me to her party. I was SO excited. She had fun friends, including people I had classes with but hadn't really had a chance to get to know. One of them was R. She was sweet, pretty, funny, well-dressed, talented in sports, confident, and popular. She was someone that I admired from afar and aspired to be perceived like.

The night of S's party, I was a little like a fish out of water. Most of the girls had gone to S's middle school and knew each other. Some knew me, others didn't. I wasn't a super girly girl, and all these girls were. They were playing with makeup and doing their hair and talking about boys. I sort of sat back and observed a lot of it, not wanting to do or say the wrong thing. Out of nowhere, R walked over to me as I was sitting on S's bed geek bopping, handed me a brush, and said "brush my hair." She crossed one foot over the other, and in one graceful move, spun and landed with her legs crossed sitting in front of me.

Uh... whuh?

I have to tell you about R's hair. It was long, blonde, and perfectly done every day. Every.day. She did it straight, curly, up, down, but her bangs were perfect mid-90's glory that could have withstood a hurricane. Her hair was what I could only assume was her Thing. And she was asking me to brush it. So. I did. And it sounds weird, but we've been friends ever since. She invited me to her BBQ she was having the next day, and we were inseparable for the next 4 years.

R and I have been friends for over 17 years now. We were close all through high school, and despite going to separate colleges and settling in cities 2 hours apart, have stayed close over the years. We have that awesome kind of friendship where we may not talk constantly now as busy adults, but when we get together for lunch, it takes us a good 30 minutes before we even look at the menu, and we chat for three hours. No matter how long we're apart, we pick right back up and it's like there was no time or distance between us. She was a bridesmaid in my wedding and I was her matron of honor. I was the first person she told when she found out she was expecting.

And today, she became a mom, and I became an auntie. Auntie Nerd, to be exact, honoring the nickname we've used for each other for the last 17 years. It's been a rough road for me, navigating my feelings about her pregnancy, but today, I feel nothing but joy. If I didn't have to work tomorrow, I'd be in the car on the way to our hometown to hold that baby. I am just so excited! I can't wait for all the things her daughter and I will hopefully do, see, and bake together. And although I won't connect with her as a mom, I can't wait for the next stage of our friendship.

Uh, and you should see the picture of her from just after the birth. Perfect hair. Of course.




This post is part of Ginger's Bring Back the Words. Click the link to go to the prompt and check out the other entries.

Timeline of Exhaustion

I'm almost close to passing out, I'm so tired. Last night was almost comical, so I figured I'd share how I turned from a well-rested person into a giggling maniac. It's a good thing I've reached my fun-money budget because I'd probably be ordering some crazy shit right now.

8:30PM: I fall asleep on the couch, under 3 dogs (we got a third dog, if you haven't heard)

11:30PM: Buddy wakes me up to go to bed. My body apparently feels like 3 hours was a nice little nap, I feel alive and energized, and I can't shut my brain off.

11:30-1:00AM: I think about all sorts of things. Buddy snores. I push him over every 5 minutes telling him to roll over.

1:30AM: I'm mad at my sweatpants and have to pee. I find capris to sleep in and think I can finally sleep. I shove Buddy a few more times and he finally finds a position where he's quiet enough for me to not feel like I want to punch him. I love him, I really do. But I need quiet to fall asleep.

2:00AM Paisley gets up and pukes on the floor. I get up to clean up and discover that at some point, somepuppy also peed on the carpet. The commotion stirs Buddy enough that he moves and starts up with the snoring again.

2:05AM: Buddy wakes to me standing over him saying "please roll the fuck over. I can't sleep with you snoring and a dog peed on the carpet and...."

2:06AM: I burst into tears while Buddy calms me for 22 seconds before he starts snoring again.

2:07AM: I calculate how much it would cost to replace all the carpet in the house with tile/anything but carpet.

2:13-4:45AM: At some point, I fall asleep. Sort of.

2:30AM: I'm hungry.

4:45AM: The dogs start stirring and wake me up. I lay still so they won't think I'm getting up to feed them.

5:00AM: Buddy's alarm goes off and I have to get up, too. Any possible sleep potential is flushed down the toilet and I'm officially a zombie for the day.

5:15AM: Shower, slap makeup on, I think I wore clothes.

6:45AM: I grab a pumpkin spice chai latte in a desperate attempt to make myself feel slightly awake.

Yada yada yada, boring accounting stuff...

2:30PM: I reach the point of goofiness and I'm pretty sure my new boss thinks I'm an idiot. I book a $1.4M entry backwards with the world watching. Okay, not the world, but a lot of people. People with Maseratis and stay-at-home wives. I feel glad that one of the company mandated goals in 2014 is literally "do my job," because I feel like I can crush that most days and days like this will be a wash.

2:41PM: I find out you can rotate a PDF instead of tilting your head to the side or rotating the screen. Coworkers have a good laugh at my expense, despite the fact I brought them all Munchkins yesterday. Jerks.

2:45PM: Stay-Awake Geek Bopping

At some point, I drove home.

6:57PM: Bed time, is that you?

6:58PM: I'm bored with this post, but I already wrote it, and now you will ALL suffer!

Night, peeps :)

Obligatory "Happy Fall, Y'all" Post

I love this image from Pinterest. It cracks me up and rings so true of what my near-entire Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter feeds are full of right now. Every year, it seems, as soon as the temps start to cool, and Starbucks brings back its famous Fall drink, everyone goes nuts for all things Autumn. And I am always jealous, because it's still over 100 degrees here most days in Arizona. We'll be well into the rest of the country's Fall before we get our own sweet relief from the heat and our landscape is slightly less brown. But still, it is one of my favorite times of year. Fall and Winter mean family holidays, football, yummy food, sweaters being appropriate (I work in a cold office, so I wear them year round, anyway), our wedding anniversary, and just generally being able to be outside comfortably. For us, Fall is the kick-off of grilling season, because you finally don't feeling you're standing over an oven (of sorts) while simultaneously standing IN one. It's also my favorite time for crafts - wreaths, gifts, and decor to make our house feel festive and even more homey than usual.

So I hope you and your family have a wonderful Fall. Bust out the boots, enjoy your tailgating, and yes, have yourself a pumpkin spice latte.



This post is a link up with Ginger's Bring Back the Words. Visit her blog to check out the other posts.

32 Candles

This past June, I turned 32. Solidly in my 30's. And it was honestly one of my best birthdays. On my actual birthday, I actually went to work- I usually take it off. We had dinner with friends at one of my favorite restaurants (don't laugh), Native New Yorker and spent our late evening watching movies and eating ice cream.

The day after my birthday was the most unexpected, wonderful surprise. It was the 2 year anniversary of the day we got Buddy's test results. It's a day that stays in my mind as an AWFUL day. The day after my 30th birthday was honestly one of my worst - it was just heart-breaking for us both. The day after my 31st, a somber day that I tried my best to not be ruined, but still felt "blah," no matter what I tried to make myself feel. But the day after my 32nd birthday - that was amazing.

Without my knowing, my incredible husband planned a surprise party for me. I had suspicions, but nothing was concrete enough to make me know for sure. He cleaned the house, shopped in secret, invited friends. He made enough food for 20 people under the guise of "well, we can freeze meals and make it into good stuff later." My own medicine, used against me. I even tried to call his bluff as a last ditch effort to learn his motives, changing into PJs and figuring he would never let me answer the door in my pajamas. I was wrong. He invited about 6 couples over and when I opened the door for the first, I was most definitely wearing a tank top and my cupcake PJ pants. He even had a friend make me a cake - in the same flavor of the wedding cake the day we got married. We hung out, drank, ate, and laughed all night. It was perfect.

I always bragged that I was too nosy and too sneaky to ever be surprised with a party, and the day after I turned 32, I was just about proven wrong. It was more than just throwing me a birthday party. Buddy knew the day after my birthday is difficult, and he did what he could to make it a day I'd remember for something good. And he was amazingly successful.

"WTF, seriously?" is the best tile I could come up with

I got a text a few nights ago that my sister was diagnosed with PCOS. Wow. It still feels a little surreal. What are the chances that two of us in one family would have issues? It made me hurt for her. I know how sad and scary it is to have a diagnosis that puts fertility and a baby in jeopardy. I felt angry that my sister would have to hurt. I fought back tears as I told her I was sorry and then I set to work. I called on my private message board girls and asked them what she needed to know. I gave her all the information I could - we had a two hour conversation about what she should do, what to expect. I gave her every bit of information I had so that she could get the best possible and most thorough care, so she could advocate for herself.

She made an appointment with an RE and even sent me a draft of an email to her new boss to critique regarding needing to miss time at her first week at a new job. And then yesterday, I found out she started fertility meds with a nurse at her OB's office who works part time at a fertility clinic. I panicked and felt punched in the gut. I know it's irrational, but I felt hurt, and shocked. Here I had armed her with everything I could, and I felt like everything I said went in one ear and out the other. I feel that she's not being diligent or responsible with her health, and it scares me. It makes me angry, with both her and her nurse. Fertility meds aren't a joke. They're not candy. There can be adverse effects. Not to mention, she hasn't had all the testing she needs - what they're doing could be risky to her health when they may only know part of the picture. I probably freaked her out, telling her again what she needed to do.

One thing that stands out is that my sister is very conscientious about what she puts in her body. She's an avid swimmer and runner, watches what she eats (albeit displaying some possibly disordered behavior at times), and seems educated on nutrition. And yet, she'll take drugs she knows nothing about, based on our conversations. When I was in New York, I overheard a conversation between her and my mom where she said she couldn't have protein powder with 5% RDA vitamin A in it because she was taking a prenatal with 100% RDA and that could be dangerous. Yet, a simple Google search led me to info that toxic levels of vitamin A result from sustained levels of 25,000 iu a day, something she'd be highly unlikely to surpass with just a protein shake and a vitamin. So while she's aware of what she's putting in her body, I feel she's misinformed, both when it comes to vitamins and when it comes to fertility drugs.

I feel like this shouldn't upset me. She's an adult. She can do what she wants. And yet, I feel it's the flippant prescribing and taking of fertility meds just like this situation that give fertility treatment a bad name, make it a joke, keep people thinking it's okay to take Clomid without proper care. And I feel snubbed. I gave her info because I care, not for shits and giggles. This isn't stuff I want to know. And then there's the stupid thinking that if she is successful going this route, she'll think I over-reacted. I don't feel I am. Actually, I know I'm not. I won't ever feel sorry for thinking she should go see an RE, complete testing, and do this responsibly with a professional who is trained and educated in the treatment of infertility. It frustrates me and makes me want to throw things. I feel strongly she rushed into this. I'm mad that her doctor/nurse/whatever isn't being a responsible professional by not referring her and insisting she go to the right kind of doctor. I feel like the sister I know would scoff at "she's a nurse at my OB who works part time at a fertility clinic." A nurse. Who works part time. Really? It just blows my mind.

I know I need to let it go. She's going to do what she and her husband feel is right, just like Buddy and I did. She's choosing a direction I wouldn't choose and I need to respect that. But I can't. I can't stop thinking about it and shaking my head and thinking "WTF, seriously?" I never expected this turn - for her or for me - and certainly never could have expected all these thoughts and emotions.