About Me

abi

Using inappropriate humor as a coping mechanism, since 1981.

Member since Sep 5, 2006
Female
United States
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I was a Vox beta tester

I'm twenty-seven years old, and I've been with my husband Aaron for eleven years, married for seven. Yes, you're doing the math right: We started dating just before I turned 16 (he was a cradle-robbing stud of 18), and we married on our four-year anniversary, a few weeks before I turned 20. Incredibly, we still really like each other.

Thanks to a gynecologist's misdiagnosis of infertility and an infrequent reliance on birth control, we became pregnant a year after we were married. Becoming parents rocked our world; it changed all our plans, not to mention indefinitely postponed my intentions to finish my bachelor's degree, but in exchange we have an amazing gift of a son in our lives, and we wouldn't trade that for anything. David is now five, and he loves coloring with markers, creating intricate tracks with his train set, and putting things in their proper order. Two years later Noah was born; now, at two and a half, he is as gregarious and dramatic as his big brother is focused and introspective. And just when we were starting to get comfortable with this parenting gig, along came Peter, born May 2008.

I left the workforce two years ago to be a full-time mom, a move that has left our family constantly short of cash and scraping by until payday, but which we have no doubt is what's best for our kids. But just because I chose this domestic lifestyle doesn't mean I can't complain about it, and I spend most days feeling vaguely annoyed and impatient with the perpetual motion of two preschoolers. In those rare moments when I'm not busy with peanut-butter sandwiches and laundry and runny noses, I'm an occasional writer, insufferable whiner, and erstwhile partaker in that most suburban of hobbies, scrapbooking. I take an antidepressant and have twice-monthly appointments with a therapist. I need to lose 140 pounds. I read Wikipedia and chick lit when I should be giving my boys my undivided attention. I rarely dust my home, and it shows.

I don't remember often enough how lucky I am; I spend too much energy worrying about the bills and the mess and the laundry, and not nearly enough being grateful for three healthy boys and a schedule that lets me spend all day with them, a husband who adores me, and a large-enough, warm-enough home. But the truth is, I'm incredibly blessed. Remind me of this next time I whine.

Which will be soon, I'm sure.