Healthiness: Marital Accord

The majority of arguments in a marriage or any relationship- partner, colleague, friends, family- always break down to the same themes.  You virtually have the same argument over and over again.  The best way to approach this is to truly get to the root cause of these arguments, to be prepared to recognize when they rear their ugly head, and collaboratively agree to not dwell in old arguments.  Or, some junk like that.  Let's face it.  The reason we continue to have the same arguments over time boils down to us either being really stupid or really getting some great perverse payoff from it.  So, are you stupid or sick and twisted?
There are two significant issues in my marriage.  One is The Great Debate and the other is To Load or Not to Load.
The Great Debate
My husband and I first went grocery shopping before we were married when we first- ahem- starting sharing the rent.  These were the good old days during which I would pay all of the bills and then present him with a monthly bill, itemizing all expenses, and splitting them in half.  He would then write a check to cover his.  All was right in the world.
During our first major shopping trip, we decided to divide and conquer.  Maybe I had ketchup and toilet paper on my list.  Maybe he had chicken and bread on his.  It really doesn't matter.  What does matter is that he had Oreos written on his.  Yum.  Oreos.  This was before you could get them in every color and flavor.  This was when there were just normal Oreos and, when you were feeling luxurious, Double Stuffed.  Oreos were a treat for me.  I didn't always get them and they weren't always in my budget.  This was before I was buying shoes and Oreos were a luxury item.
We met up in the middle of the store with our items and checked them off of the list as we sorted them before going to the cashier.  And that's when I knew we were in trouble.  Or Doomed.  He did not get Oreos.  He got...Hydrox.  Yes, Hydrox.  And, if you, Fair Friend (or Stranger) of Mine do NOT see the difference, stop reading now.  I invite you to set up a blind taste test and then come back to this blog.
Anyway...I think I smiled, or giggled, or something "Aren't-we-cute-we are shopping for the first time together" related.  We then had a blow out fight to which end my husband thinks he is still right...15 years later.  He INSISTED that they were the same thing and I insisted he was nuts as well as sleeping on the couch.  This isn't a case of my being a pretty, petty princess.  I like Oreos.  I do not like Hydrox.  You can insist all you want that I do or could but when I know something deep in my bones like nor liking Oreos or not being ready to be someone's mom, do not force your values on me in the guise of compromise. 
Hydrox have never set foot in our home.
To Load or Not to Load?
I did not grow up with air conditioning or a dishwasher.  When I was first exposed to both at a family member's house, I thought they were the coolest things (aside from that magical card that you put in a machine, push numbers, and money came out!).  When my first apartment came with both, I was excited.  I've done chores and cleaned house forever.  I know how to do it.  Been there, done that, washed the T-shirt.  I do laundry, iron, clean a bathroom like nobody's business.  I know some people like to fold towels one way and others like to clean counters first or floors last.  Some like to load dishes before they eat, others like to savor the meal they spent hours preparing and then clean.  It's all good.  As long as it gets done.
The dishwasher did not become an issue until recently.  Truly.  I do not recall the exact moment because it must have been happening all along...I would go to put something in the dishwasher to realize it had been reloaded.  Meaning, someone moved around everything I put in it.  My first reaction was paranoia like a Lifetime movie.  Then, realizing my cats did not have opposable thumbs, I knew it was Him.  Whatever.  Until it came up in conversation and He told me I load the dishwasher wrong. 
His Theory: Load back to front, bowls up so it "really gets in there."
My Theory: Get them in there.  And, bowls down cause it'll still get in there and not pool.
Seriously? Move on.  I barely have enough energy to load the dishwasher.  Be appreciative that I do it.  If you have the energy to redo something someone has already spent time doing, more power to you.  Just do it yourself from the Get Go. The more I am coached to do it "this way" makes me want to do it "the other way" or, no way at all.  I'm happy to create a tower of dishes in the sink.  Maybe the cats will lick them clean.
Here's the thing.  Could I see this as another attempt to impose his values and sense of order on me, forcing me to compromise?  Maybe.  I guess you have to ask yourself how important it is to be right, to be stubborn, to be stupid enough to fight over dishes, or push the issue to get the perverse sense of pleasure of loading it your way and sneaking it on to be right.  In reality, it has no value to me to be right in this case and if it is important to him, then when I have the energy and foresight to think about it, I load back to front.  Sometimes, you have to give the other in your relationship- partner, colleague, friends, family- the win, to show them you see their side and value their thinking...no matter how wrong they are.
I'll take the Oreos.
Harmoniously Yours,
Dr. BT

Shoes: Shoe-icide

I'm the kind of person that listens to the radio and likes to rock out to a good beat.  I often sing along and absorb the words before I even know what they are and what they mean.  There was a song on the radio this morning by Fabolous (the spelling error is not mine).  Part of the lyrics call to me-
"..Louis Vuitton shoes, she got too much pride. Her feet are killing her, I call it shoe-icide.  Looking good has its sacrifices..."
To be honest, I have no idea what the song means as a whole.  But I think I have shoe-icide. 
It all started with Barbies.  In order to properly dress a Barbie and get a dress on her, you had to turn her upside down, shove her head on the floor, and scoot her clothes on.  THE SHOES NEVER STAYED ON!  This was before I knew about duct tape, crazy glue, or fun tack.  I used to take it as a personal affront that her shoes would not stay on.  While I was creative enough to pretend my Barbie was a runaway trying to make it on the streets, I was not creative enough to have my Barbie be a barefooted Hippie.  The obsession was born.
I used to play dress up in my aunt's heels.  She worked in an office and got to dress to impress.  I tried to glue her fake eyelashes on and after that debacle, trying to wear stilettos was it. 
For most of my life, shoes were practical and either black or brown, flat or small heeled, or boots.  Then, I had a bad day at work.
I'm known for making major purchases after a bad day at work.  Once, I drove out to Ikea and looked at office bookcases, home entertainment cabinetry, and kitchen storage with my husband.  When he asked which one I planned on buying for that day, I said, "Yes." 
Shoe-icide began after another horrid work day and a trip to Macy's shoe department.  All of a sudden, shoes with colors, height, patterns, buckles, bows, zippers called to me.  It was my own Sex and the City moment.  Four pair later, I was set.  To see my collection now, those were tame.
Now...I have...clogs, shoes that tie around my ankle, two inch heels, three inch heels, and a four incher.  (I bought and returned a 5 incher- that was not practical.)
People tell me, "Oh, your feet must hurt."  First off, due to an old and recurring back injury, flats hurt my back.  I discovered that heels actually FELT GOOD for my back.  Second of all, yes, if you wear high heels and the toes come to a point and your toes are up ON point, then yes, it will hurt.  That's nuts!  I find gems without pointy toes and that have a flat foot if you can imagine.  I can run in them if needed.  (And I have.  And by running, I mean briskly walking with my arms pumping.)
So, while I may have "Shoe-icide" with respect to looking good having its sacrifices...financial sacrifices...I respectfully disagree with Mr. Fabolous.  It's not a matter of pride, it's good old fashioned frilly Barbie fun.  And my feet aren't killing me!  (Just my toes and technically, they aren't feet right?  They are part of the foot like fingers are part of the hand.  When your finger hurts, you say "My finger hurts" not your hand.  So when Mr. Fabolous says my feet are killing me, there's a semantic disagreement with which my lawyer would certainly argue in court bypasses any legally binding statement that indeed confirms or denies the pain threshold of said foot.........)
Shoe-ishly Yours,
Dr. BT

Lit: 10 Things I Know to be True...

This entry is inspired by Project Voice-Sarah Kay's Things I Know to be True.  Look her up on YouTube!
What I Know to be True...
1.  Red and Blue make Purple.  Red is the color of anger.  Blue is the color of sadness.  Purple is my favorite color.  What does that say?
2. I should pick veggies and fruit over starch.  Starch is more fun.
3.  I want three cats and a kitten.  I do not want four cats.
4.  Shekinah is an awesome secret baby name.
5.  Work Hard.  Play Hard.  It's an excuse, not a motto.
6.  Playing Barbies was fun.  I'm still playing.  Shoes!
7.  "You have to be able to look him in the eye and still like him."  (Our First Lady on marriage)
8.  Why NOT the Zombie Apocalypse?
9.  As the price of gas goes up, my belief in securing my future goes down.
10.  Somethings are best left unfin----
Knowingly Yours,
Dr. BT

Lit: The Happiness Project

I've finished reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.  It was a great read and inspired me to think back to what made me happy when I was younger.  This random list is from as early as I can remember it to high school- but not in sequential order.  Good luck deciphering! 

• Hide-and-Go Seek!  Massive game...anywhere from 5-20 neighborhood kids, at night, game was not over until everyone was found.
• Listening to the Beastie Boys on my "boom box."
• Taking the bus to the 163rd Street Mall and watching the break dancers in the parking lot.
• Playing Barbies.  Different story every day.  The yellow elevator never worked on my townhouse but it was fun.  We used to take album covers...the ones that folded out into a tri fold...to make studio apartments.
• Walking on the boardwalk- when it wasn't for exercise.  This was before we had our license. 
• Making home movies dancing and singing to Pearl Jam.  Wearing flannel shirts and thinking we were hard core.
• Head banging to Guns-N-Roses...wearing tight jeans and black eyeliner...thinking we were hard core.
• Rides to school with KM, hanging out on WG base, arguing over the Ouija board.
• Grease.  Grease.  Grease.  It really was The Word.
• Saving up 100 pennies to chase down the Mr. Softy truck.  We never knew when he was coming.  Was heartbreaking if you only had 99 pennies.
• Collecting Garbage Pail Kids!
• Chorale
• Stickers- loved the oily ones that you could squish and the colors would move.
• Reading.  Loved the Babysitters Club.  Remember reading a cheerleading series that I have tried and tried to find again.  I remember one character was Patrick and he drove a garbage truck.  Megan (?) was the good cheerleader.  Angie/Angela was overweight.  Preston (?) male cheerleader drove a Porsche.  Vanessa was a wanna-be and manipulative and once made Megan think that she broke a vase.  Seriously...does anyone know this series?
• V.C. Andrews and Stephen King FREAKED ME OUT.
• I liked to make stuff.  My favorites was to take a piece of clear tape and color on it with a marker.  Then (real fast!) drop Elmer's Glue.  Let it dry and then peel it off.  Instant treasure.
• I had an easy bake over.  Wasn't so easy.
• Used to watch Wonder Woman like crazy.  My mom made me my own head band.  I would wear my Underoos, tie my mom up with my lasso of truth, and raid the cookie jar.
• Played Pac Man on one of those restaurant video game tables while drinking Shirley Temples. 
• I can still remember making my Dr. Seuss All About Me book.
• Used to play school.  I gave the neighbor Robbie a detention because he was disgusting.
• Loved to play dress up with my aunt's shoes!
• My blankie!  It had silk on it.  (OK- this one was not in high school)
• Riding down "death hill" on a three wheel bike.
• Sleepovers at family members' houses.
• Matching socks to my shirts!

I'm sure there is more...would love to hear yours!
Nostalgically Yours,
Dr. BT

Healthiness: I am Hard Core

               Wow!  I was so excited to train for the half marathon!  As I walked after work with colleagues or in my development with my husband huffing behind me (yes, huffing- regardless of his opinion), I could envision myself running.  I was positive, enlightened, and…unrealistic.  Here’s what happened in a nutshell-

·         Fall of 2009…general feeling of frumpiness, high stress, and desire to be in a couch coma indefinitely.  After chatting with my family doctor, it was determined that I needed to reduce stress (hah) and increase exercise (double hah).

·         Trained extensively in the Winter of 2010…for four weeks.  Followed the program and had made it to fast walking.  Cheated by “running” for maybe 30 seconds here and there.

·         One Wednesday at work midday, my left knee started to randomly hurt.  Couldn’t figure out why.  Trained that night, Thursday, and Friday.  Took Saturday off and shopped at Ikea.  Walking that place IS completing a half marathon.  Sunday- dying.  Could not stand on leg.

·         It took three weeks of phone calls and tests and waiting and finding the right doctor to learn I had a stress fracture in my leg.  No more training, no half marathon and no downgrading to 5K.  

·         Due to the fracture and some other medical history, crazy tests were done which confirmed some nutritional deficiencies which lead to tests which lead to a “your-cholesterol-is-high-you-can-have-a-heart-attack” comment.  I had one doctor wanting me on meds for cholesterol and one wanting me on daily injections for the rest of my LIFE for VIT D.  

              This inspired my life style change.  After all was healed, I immediately attacked stress.  I can not control stress but I can control the amount that I opt to be exposed to at any given time.  I gave up my consistent part time job and just focused on my full time employment.  I tried to be more “present” at home and return to my passion of pleasure reading.  I joined a gym with a pool (and hot tub).  Found a great trainer who gets me.  Started to see a nutritionist and set goals.  Reduced my cholesterol, increased my VIT D, dropped one size, built “crutch” arms without the crutches. Oh, did I mention that I managed to get tendonitis and swollen thumb joints from either weightlifting or excessive usage of my electronic reader?

               I AM Hard Core.  I either operate at 0% or 100%.  No middle ground.  Great for Type A at work, bad for “hey, I can run a half marathon after being inactive for years!”  I still walked the 5K…against medical advice.  Hey, I had to do it!  So what if everyone else ran and I was the only walker and the only people I beat happened to be a man in his 70’s and a woman pushing a stroller?  I did it.  I hope to be Hard Core with making this life style change.  100% Type A approach with 0% remorse.  (Right now, I am at 75% approach, 25% remorse.)  

               I look forward to exploring my successes (and failures) on my path to healthiness on this blog.  And don’t forget that I plan to talk about Lit and Shoes, too!

Done with “setting the stage” Yours,

Dr. BT