With Love, There is Trust.

To most that know me, Gabe may not seem like the man I would end up with; and honestly, before we started talking I would've agreed. However, here we are, almost six months into this and blissfully still in love. Now, before you go reaching for the barf bags, this isn't a nauseating post about my undying love for Gabe. In reality this is on a topic much harder to deal with.
Everyone has experienced at least one bad relationship, or at least one terrible date, and we all cringe at the memories and eventually move on with our lives. But for those of us who have had to experience the worst of the worst relationships, ones that make it seem like guys are competing for Who's The Biggest Asshole Awards. Those are the hardest to move on from. To be clear, by moving on, I don't necessarily mean that you want the jerk back, I mean it just takes longer to heal those wounds. Best advice I ever got, don't rebound, but of course what do we all do? You guessed it, it's rebound. We go on a date with that guy from that class you had, or you call up someone you knew from way back when, and you try your best to prove to everyone you're superwoman. Nevertheless, inside you are still mulling over what happened with your ex and in my case, why you always made him so angry. And I swear, break-ups and pregnancy are neck-in-neck for who gets more advice thrown at them. So the next piece of fabulous advice I get, the famous "Move on and forget the loser." So much easier said than done people!
Finally months go by and you are out having fun with your friends, doing things for you, and if your me, then you run into an awesome guy in your psych class. Now here comes the hard part, you end up really liking this guy, but in the back of your mind you have a cowering version of you saying that men are evil. I knew when I heard that voice that I obviously wasn't done healing from my last bad relationship, but I was also bound and determined not to let my catch get away. As Gabe would put it, I had chosen, and he was surprised I hadn't peed on his leg just to mark my territory. I laughed at his joke, but in the back of my mind I knew I really was that crazy jealous. More time went by, and Gabe and I became insuperable. He was my perfect man. I am high-strung, clingy, and passionate while he's powerful, calm, and caring; we balanced each other out. I needed his traits to counteract my overpowering personality.
Now here we are, present time, and he's still treating me amazing. Yes, he plays video games for hours, and I swear I could be walking around naked with my hair on fire, and he wouldn't notice till the smell of burning hair became to strong. And sure, he works a lot, and smokes sometimes, and grinds his teeth in his sleep (which I've decided is way more annoying than when he snores). But watching when he gets on the ground and plays with the dog, or when he makes me hot packs for my cramps, and especially when he brings me home my favorite ice cream, it just shows that the things I love about him by far outweigh the little things that pester me. Although this is the hardest part for me, it's admitting that I am really in the wrong.
Here's this amazing man, who treats me like a precious gem, and I am such a tyrant. I have a quick temper, a jealousy streak that goes for miles, and some deeply embedded trust issues. As I mentioned earlier, I was in a not so sweet relationship previous to my finding Gabe, and I understand that my issues stem from my past experiences. What I don't understand though, is why I have to take that butt-heads mistakes out on Gabe. Working on your issues can be very challenging, and addressing them is honestly the hardest part. So lately that has been my goal. Logically of course, I can work out that Gabe is not my ex-boyfriend, and he has never done anything to deserve mistrust. But in my mind it's hard to hear the logical voice over all the imaginative scenarios I can create. This was really beginning to create a problem with Gabe and I, and though he is understanding, a person can only be so kind. Finally he drew the line in the sand and made me confront my issues. Without going into detail, we agreed that I really needed to work on being able to trust people again, and that he was definitely a person worth trusting, so all we can do now is move forward and work on it every day.
The challenge of finding a person that is so great, we often try to sabotage it, assuming that no one could truly want to treat us this nice just because they love us for who we are. Perhaps some advice is best to be taken, you can't truly love someone else until you learn to love yourself. I'm still learning everyday that if someone is willing to let me in and make me happy, maybe I am worth it, and maybe he's worth letting down my walls and learning to trust again.

Missing Home.

When I was in high school I was a professional couch-hopper. Always wanting to be out and about, I made it a goal to avoid my house, and I was pretty dang good at it. Between picking the most time demanding sports, hanging out with friends, and actually going to school, I usually just used my parents house for sleeping and snacking. I truly never understood when my parents would tell me that someday all I would want is to be home.
That was until now. Mind you, I love helping people, and I knew Gabe's parents needed us to be there for them, which I didn't mind at all. However, I have to give it up to my parents, they really hit it on the nose. It has been six days since I have been able to sleep in my bed, cook dinner in my kitchen, and take a shower at my house, and I absolutely miss it. Even though Gabe and I have only been living there for a little over a month, it has become our home.
So after thoroughly cleaning his parents house, I am now able to sit down and blog about my first weekend alone, which was surprisingly not very lonely. As I mentioned in my earlier post, my weekend started with a lack of sleep, breakfast with some family, and rushing to Gabe's parents so they could leave for Darren's, Gabe's step-father's, surgeon five hours away. After they left, and I was sitting in their large house alone, I was just thinking about the list of to-do's I had set-up for my weekend that would now be put off. So I grabbed the piles of laundry from my car and started in on the only housecleaning I would be able to do this weekend for myself. That night I slept in between two chihuahuas, a boxer, and a dachshund; leaving only one dog in its own bed, and a small space for me to squeeze in. With Phoebe, the boxer, snoring and taking up most of the bed, I almost felt like Gabe was still there.
The next morning, Gabe's mom, Anita, texted me to tell me her sisters are on their way from California to come stay with her in Washington while Darren was in surgery; also that they would stay the night with me that night, so I wouldn't be alone. All I could think was, "Oh god! I have to meet new people, Gabe's aunts, all by myself!" and, "She is such a mom..." When they finally arrived that night around eleven, they were quite a shock, immediately embracing me in hugs and talking up a storm. It was like seeing what people must see when my sisters and I are together; as Gabe would put it, a bomb could go off beside us, and we wouldn't hear it. After they indulged in a shot of whiskey each, we all parted and went to bed.
The next morning around four, I could hear them leaving, trying to get an early start on their long drive. I drifted back to sleep, knowing full well I'm not a morning person and I wouldn't be cheerful out of that warm bed. All of Sunday, I was sitting on pins and needles waiting for Gabe to arrive, and when he finally did, I can't explain how excited I was. He looked so dashing in his military uniform, and it's true, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He gave me a deep, caring kiss, and then we were off to McDonald's. Since then, we still haven't been able to go home, other than my quick stop by to meet my sister and her kids for a shopping trip and some closet raiding. We've been waiting for more information on Darren's emergency surgery, and how much longer they'd be staying there. Finally, the doctors figured out that he had contracted Staph from the dogs, which is common when you have a low immune system and lots of dogs, and that they would be home tonight, which means Gabe and I get to sleep in our own bed tonight. To put the cherry on top, I get to be pampered for the second night in a row and Gabe is cooking for me; last night it was steak, salad, and garlic bread, so I'm excited to see what's on the table tonight.

My Chi, Benji. Their boxer, Phoebe; Chi, Daisy; and dachshund, Cinco.

The First Weekend Alone

There are so many women, and men, who can relate to their first night alone in a new place; the worry, the fear, that tinge of excitement, it's all very stressful. Tonight's the night, after a horrible night's sleep last night, and Gabe getting up at two in the morning to get ready for drill and leaving an hour later, I have the house to myself. So what's the first thing I do? Well, I try to go back to sleep, unfortunately that wasn't a success until around four in the morning.

Suddenly I'm jolted from my dreams at seven by my phone going off, it was my dad. I immediately answer, and he laughs, knowing he woke me up, then asks if I want to go to breakfast in an hour with my oldest sister, her boyfriend, and him. I thought it over then sleepily agreed; slowly I dragged myself from bed and stretched my limbs, I really wanted to go back to sleep, but I missed seeing my dad, so I got myself together and clambered into my car. It was great catching up with everyone, and I am truly blessed to have my family so close to me, but the time came that we all parted our ways. I headed home with expectations to pass out into a food comma, and then get up and do some housework, oh but I was so mistaken.

I slipped back into my pajama's and into bed, the dog cuddling with me, and I'm just about to fall asleep when my phone rings once again. Through half-opened eyes, I look to see who it is, and to my surprise it's Gabe's mom. As soon as I answer I can tell something is off in her voice, she's asking me if Gabe had already left for drill, and if he'd be coming home, and if I was home, I tentatively answered her questions, hoping she would tell me what's going on. Then she explained that her husband had a nasty infection in his elbow, which he had just gotten replaced, and that she needed to take him to his surgeon out-of-state. Now Gabe and I had been living with them previous to our move into the new apartment, so I knew what she was asking for; her and her husband had five dogs, which all were on a strict scheduled diet and some on medications, and they couldn't take them all on their five hour drive. She apologized for the inconvenience and assured me they would take the dog that needed shots, knowing that I can't handle needles, so I agreed.

An hour later I was back in my car, with my laundry, dog, and books in tote. I arrived to a warm hug and a lot of excited dogs. This weekend wasn't at all what I planned, but I don't mind waving goodbye to my first weekend alone in my apartment and saying hello to my dogs-only weekend at Gabe's mom's house. Sometimes being an adult can be a lot of work, but being there for family triumphs the stress and the lack of sleep.

The First Month

I have to admit, I knew I had a lot of stuff, but my lord I didn't know I had that much stuff. Between clothing, furniture, high school memorabilia, and books, I could have filled an apartment just from the stuff  I stocked in my room. Of course, I did still need to collect some of the major luxuries like a couch, a television, and my man's dream computer; but we focused on gathering the little necessities also, like dishes, tuberware, and food. Nevertheless, even when you feel like you've gathered all the things you can think of, you always end up making several more trips to the store for random things like a cupcake tin or a light bulbs, it's just inevitable.
Then there was the annoying list of to-dos, like changing your mailing address, running back and forth to fit everything into your tiny car, and if you're like me doing a very thorough cleanse of the apartment. My boyfriend laughed and told me they clean the apartments before we moved in, but I insisted on cleaning the shower before we jumped in and the counters before we cooked, and just as I feared it was dirty. Then we had other things to worry about, like a couch; we were a little tired of sitting on the floor to watch TV,  so we searched Craigslist for free furniture and found something we liked. Unfortunately, the lady that was giving it away apparently didn't know how to clean her couch; it was stained and covered in dog hair. So I did a simple vinegar wash after vacuuming both the chair and couch. There are still a few stains, but the hair is now only from our dog, and the baking soda under the cushions took away the smell of dog.
Now my man needs about as much attention and compassion as a rock, but then there's me, I love attention, and I need compassion, and even though we had a big personality difference, he gives me the time of day and I try to give him all the little things he didn't know he was missing. I try to cook and clean, and keep up the house while he's off at work, and vice versa. We enjoy relaxing at home, food, and watching movies; we also both love our games, him much more than I, but we manage our time well, and make sure we both have time together. So far we are very happy in our new home, and the only thing we have to manage is our small kitchen space and not becoming to comfortable.
Enjoy my recipes, exercises, home management, and natural alternatives! :)

Even our little man is all tuckered out from the move.