marriage – Yannisms

We are 10

September 14, 2018 yannisms

Dear Aidan and Zac,

Before the two of you came along, there was the two of us – me and Papa.

We met in 1998, got together when the new millennium rolled in, broke up a couple of years later, realised that nobody else measured up to each other, got back together again (it’s all been recorded down for posterity here), and then recited our wedding vows to our family and friends on a rainy September 14 evening in 2008.

After the wedding, we made a home and decided it was time to have children. We tried, failed, went for numerous IUIs, took the plunge and went for IVF, failed and then were pregnant by surprise – twice. That’s where you two come in.

Six and a half years of parenthood have flown by. We fought, cried, sunk into our beds each night in sheer exhaustion, drank copious amounts of caffeine, laughed at every antic you display, burst with joy at every milestone that you hit and drove our blood pressure sky high whenever you did something that made us mad. We stopped holding hands because we had to hold yours, and then started holding hands again when you decided you no longer needed ours to keep you steady. We kissed you, and we kissed each other just to make you squeal.

That’s your papa and I, in a nutshell. That’s 10 years of marriage summed up in a few pithy words. These words, of course, are not quite enough to encapsulate every moment, every tear, every smile, every angry thought, every loving gesture, every frustrated silence, every (temporary…trust me) murderous intent.

Oh yes, anger and frustration and sadness. There’s definitely some of those in our marriage.

Because you see, my dear littles, our marriage is not perfect. We have highs and lows. There are times when we love each other dearly but dislike each other intensely concurrently. There are moments when we would rather be alone than with each other. There are times when we want to spend time with others, away from each other (and you…but you’d probably cry if I tell you that so oops.)

And you know what? That’s absolutely fine. I’ve only been married once in my life but I reckon that no married couple go through only the highs and never the lows. At the end of the day, if there is anything that you learn from our marriage, it is that we make our choice. Every. Single. Day.

We choose to love each other. We choose to let each other have that last piece of chocolate. We choose to let go of our individual pride and be the unit that our family needs. We choose to walk our own path together, away from the naysayers.

We choose us, over and over again.

Remember, our marriage is a choice made by two individuals to commit to each other. We are still individuals but we are also equal partners.

And so it has been for the past 10 years. And for many more 10 years, hopefully.

You always tell mummy that you don’t want us to die, you want us to stay with you forever. Well, my darling boys, you know that is impossible and that’s okay. Because I am pretty damn sure that when papa and I are dead and gone, we will still be together. If not in your hearts and memories, then probably in the afterlife, roaming the world together as we have always intended.

Here’s to many more wedding anniversaries celebrated with the two of you, the greatest gifts of our marriage.

Love,
Mummy

Two of Us

The phantom pain

March 5, 2016 yannisms

Early this morning, husband took off on his business trip. We’ve never really been apart ever since we got together, barring his business trip to Chicago almost three years back.

And it feels odd.

We are not the sort who do things together all the time. He has a life and so do I. While we have a very, very large common pool of friends, we do have social connections that do not overlap. Even when we are together, we like to have our own space to do our own thing.

But now, as the partner who is left behind, I am feeling such a strange gap. It feels like someone amputated my limb and replaced it with a prosthetic. Like, I can do all these things by myself and I know I can handle this household with these two littles on my own. I can go for parent-teacher meeting, throw the kiddo a birthday party and juggle my full-time job and their schedules by myself (even though it’s tiring as hell).

The limb is working but feels empty, void. Like there is something bereft.

I suppose it’s natural, given that I am the one “left behind”. I suppose this means I am missing the man. I suppose that this also means that I have probably taken our partnership for granted. And I suppose this means I need to start getting used to it because there will probably be more of these trips.

I suppose this tells me that while yes, I can live without this man, I don’t want nor like to.

One day down, 13 more to go before my partner comes back and fills this gap up with his larger than life presence.

Two of Us

Mid-Autumn’s night dream

September 27, 2015 yannisms

Seven Mid-Autumn Festivals ago, we pledged our lives to each other, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health.

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(Not including for richer or for poorer because I completely missed that out when I was reciting my vows. Yeah, I totally fluffed it up, heh.)

We had envisioned a joyful celebration under the stars and the beautiful moon, as the waves crashed upon the shoreline. It was perfectly planned, the date was certainly not chosen at random. There was going to be singing and dancing, and feasting. We even picked out the spot where we would be wed, under this tree:

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The morning of our wedding day was scorching hot. And then it started raining in the evening.

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In the end, the decorations lovingly put up by my dear friends were drenched and washed out. The lanterns that we had placed on every single seat were left unused. We had to hastily shift all the tables and chairs indoors and it was, honestly, chaotic.

Instead of reciting our vows under that tree, we were saying “I do” under the bright lights of the function room.

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I was pretty disappointed and heartbroken at that moment when Mr Thick said that we had no choice but to move indoors. But it turned out fine: we still got married, had heaps of fun and our friends got roaringly drunk. It was still one of the best nights of our lives.

Seven years ago, we became husband and wife on September 14. This year, on that date, we spent the afternoon together, just the two of us. It was a simple date, nothing fancy, no expensive meal, no lavish presents. But it was time well-spent. I was feeling tired from the long and exhausting semester, feeling deflated from just about everything, and so the day went by just like that. We ended up picking up the boys and spending the evening with my sister and her family.

Seven Mid-Autumn festivals later, on this day, we spent it with our boys and then with his family. Serendipity, I suppose. The night is quiet with both A and Z finally sleeping, and the mister has dozed off with them. It’s just me, with a slice of moon cake and my two cats keeping me company.

I’m home. And happy.

I don’t know what the future holds for us and how the next Mid-Autumn Festival will look like. I mean, in the past seven years, we have gone through a fair bit of pain, drama, trauma, blood and tears. There were times when I had no idea if we were ever going to remain us.

But here we are, tired but happy. With two littles and two feline babies in tow. He’s not perfect but neither am I, and together we balance out each other’s shortcomings. Like I have always said, we may not be perfect to each other but we are certainly perfect for each other.

Marriage is hard work, staying in love with someone is so much more difficult than what those ridiculous books and movies tell you. It’s a choice, it’s an active choice that we make every single day.

And so I choose him. As our wedding vows go, until death do us part.

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(Or if he becomes poorer. In which case, HASTA LA VISTA BABY!)

Two of Us

15 years of you and I

December 31, 2014 yannisms

15 years ago, we decided to try being us.
It hasn’t always been easy.
There were ups and downs.
We walked away from each other.
And then realised we didn’t want to live without each other.

Here we are now, 15 years later.
That’s half of my life spent with you.
And yet it feels like it’s never enough.

There are still countries to explore together.
Ice-cream to share.
Photos to take.
Coffee to drink.
Geeky gadgets to ooh and aah over.

So to the love of my life, here’s to many more 15 years ahead of us.

Love you many many.

Foodnotes, Two of Us

Weekend brunch at Wooloomooloo

October 6, 2014 yannisms

So. If you are looking for more excitement after the whole tofu debacle, I am sorry to have to disappoint you. There will, hopefully, be NO MORE TOFU NONSENSE happening in my life. My poor heart cannot handle it.

Anyhow, this is about our sixth wedding anniversary. Also known as the anniversary where we did not exchange gifts. It’s probably not the first anniversary that we have celebrated without any gifts but then again, it’s not like we need a tangible “gift” these days. Truly, the best gift my husband can offer me is his presence at home at 7pm on weekdays. Handling two littles in the evenings after work on my own – feeding them, bathing them, putting them to bed – can be a hair-tearing affair. At any one moment, someone is crying and demanding my attention.

But that’s another story for another day.

For our anniversary, I decided that the best thing I could do for Mr Thick – and myself – is to treat us to a good lunch sans kids. That’s right, we get to order food that we want to eat and shove food only into our mouths. We don’t have to distract a crying child or scold an errant child. We would get to eat in peace and with two hands.

At that time, I was seriously craving some steak. I blame it on my pregnant girlfriend, who kept talking about her beefy needs. Most of the good steakhouses were not open on a Sunday afternoon, however, and we couldn’t do dinner because Aidan would never let anyone else but his parents put him to bed. So lunch it had to be and after some serious searching, I decided upon Wooloomooloo‘s weekend brunch.

For $68++ per person, you get to tuck into a five-course brunch. And what a fine brunch it was!

For the first course, I opted to have eggs benedict while he had the fried hen’s egg.

The eggs benny paired with the smoked salmon was a simple dish that was done excellently. I really liked the accompanying grilled asparagus and I am not even a fan of asparagus to begin with. Mr Thick’s fried hen’s egg was not the main attraction of the dish – instead, it was the little hash brown, tomato and avocado mountain that he enjoyed most.

After the plates were cleared, I was presented with my choice of soup/salad: lobster bisque.

It was marvellous! There were generous chunks of lobster in the soup and it was robustly flavoured. My only peeve was that it was a tad too salty.

He, on the other hand, decided on the Wooloomooloo Tuna Nicoise salad. Which was nice but did not blow his mind. Well. He’s a meat guy, after all, and it would take a super fantastic salad to impress him.

My choice of appetiser was a no-brainer: HELLO OYSTERS!! I haven’t had one in more than a year (pregnancy and raw foods don’t really go) and I was thrilled to have some. These were some excellent oysters too, all fresh and sea brine-y flavours exploding in my mouth.

And because I was also eyeing the wild mushroom risotto, husband kindly ordered it for his appetiser even though he’s not usually a fan of risotto. See? No need for gifts, a simple gesture like this will do!

Oh man. The risotto. When it arrived, he took a whiff and said, “WAH. Potent.” And it was. The cheese, oh the cheese. I love smelly cheeses and the Stilton was so amazingly pungent. We thought that it was just a fantastic dish. Thank goodness that it wasn’t a full-sized portion though – you can and will feel a bit sick of the creamy risotto midway through devouring it.

For the main course, it was a no-brainer: BEEF! I chose the Australian grass-fed filet mignon while he picked the Australian Black Angus vs. USDA Prime Sirloin.

Unfortunately, while I had requested for my steak to be medium done, it arrived on my table pretty well-cooked. The waiter sent it back to the kitchen when I pointed out the mistake and my dish finally reached me in the correct doneness. And it was DELICIOUS.

So was his beef, apparently.

By the time the desserts rolled around, we were stuffed. We could not finish the Wooloomooloo cheesecake and bread & butter pudding, as yummy as they were.

What made this even more special was the wait staff’s attention to detail. I had indicated that it was our anniversary in my reservation and they did up the dessert ever so nicely for us. And the maitre’d promptly fished out a camera to take a photo of us with the cheesecake and had the photo printed and framed for us in a jiffy. You could tell that this was a very professional and well-oiled machine, although it could have been a warmer machine (they were very polite but also very brisk and non-smiling).

At the end of the meal, we were two very happy persons. It was great being able to spend time alone with each other AND have a great meal at the same time. I mean, we got to rock up to the restaurant all scrubbed up and in our Sunday best. I was actually wearing a jumpsuit! With makeup on! And carrying a – get this – CLUTCH. Awesome or what?

And to cap off this wonderful day? We went home to a baby who had refused the bottle (and was starving) and then whisked the boys off for some grocery shopping at NTUC.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Two of Us

Six years of Thick & Thin

September 16, 2014 yannisms

I knew I married the right guy when, after I rear-ended the car, he looked at the damage and laughed, before enveloping me in a big bear hug.

I knew I married the right guy when he steered the kid with the poopy diaper away from me because I muttered “I HATE POOP” out loud as said kid presented me with the smelliest arse EVAR.

I knew I married the right guy when he tried to register my interest in the iPhone 6 with my service provider without my asking for it to be done.

I knew I married the right guy when he dabao prata for me late one night, because I wanted to have some and I was no longer pregnant.

I knew I married the right guy when he brought me teh-si every single day when I was staying in the hospital with Zac.

I knew I married the right guy when he, knowing that I was torn between ordering a risotto and the oysters, decided to get the risotto so that I can have both.

I knew I married the right guy when I realised that I still like him enough to keep him, even though he didn’t get me any gifts nor flowers for our anniversary.

What a ride it has been, this past six years.

❤ Here’s to many many more years ahead! ❤

Two of Us

40 is the new 30

March 30, 2014 yannisms

Happy birthday to my love.
You have been the best thing that has happened to me.
Thank you for being my rock, the one person who can make me laugh, and whom I can be all bimbo and silly with.
Thank you for being the best father our kid(s) can ever have.
Thank you for sacrificing your waistline to pig out on waffles and ice-cream with me.

In fact, let’s make a pact to have waffles and ice-cream ALL THE TIME. Shall we?

I love you. Always. xx

Two of Us

He’s turning 40

March 25, 2014 yannisms

Ah, my old fart.

I mean, my husband.

Mr Thick is turning 40 very soon and I decided to put together a nice little celebration for him. You see, he hasn’t had much of a birthday do since two years ago, when Aidan came along. In that month of March, we were both frazzled and exhausted and I hardly had any wits about me to plan my next meal, let alone a birthday. Last year, we were in Perth with my family and our plans were scuppered, thanks to the Easter holiday which closed all businesses and the lovely Italian restaurant that I had planned to check out. We ended up at San Churro, where I managed to sneak a cake under his nose, complete with a candle.

This year, I decided to up the ante just a wee bit and planned a surprise do for him. It was meant to be a Steve Jobs-themed party and I had requested my friends to come in black tops and geek glasses. But ah well, most of our friends did not come dressed up according to the theme, which was a real shame.

Anyway, I had everything done. Props, checked. Delicious cake from Mrs Ergul, checked. Food, catered, checked. Friends to meet at a certain time before food is delivered, checked.

Yay surprise gonna work!

Until it didn’t.

The food delivery guy showed up a good half hour ahead of schedule and camped outside my door. He rang me and I said I wouldn’t be able to let him in until 430pm and he said fine, he’ll wait. Husband went into the kitchen to get a drink, saw the delivery guy waiting outside and asked why there was someone there. I lied through my teeth and muttered something about it being the neighbour’s clearly, since I hadn’t catered anything.

Phew.

And then that annoying man went into the kitchen AGAIN and the delivery guy saw him. The delivery guy promptly WAVED AT MY HUSBAND and said, “HELLO, DELIVERY!”

My confused husband then opened the door and told the dude that he had the wrong house. The delivery guy insisted that he was at the right place and husband asked to see the receipt. Of course, my name was there and Mr Thick turned to shoot me a suspicious look.

Meanwhile, I was trying to dig a hole into the floor of our flat and crawl into it.

“Is this one of your surprises again?” he asked, trying hard to contain his amusement but failing.

“GO AWAY INTO THE ROOM AND DON’T COME OUT UNTIL I SAY SO,” I commanded. He walked off, with a grin on his face.

I duly gave the delivery guy a scolding (“There is a reason I specifically said 430, right?! I told you to wait, right?! You spoil my surprise for my husband lah!”) and hauled the food in.

Five minutes later, our friends arrived at our doorstep and shouted “SURPRISE!”

You know what, someone up there is clearly trying to tell me that I should steer clear of planning parties. All my parties, so far, have “failed” in one way or another. Next time, I’m just going to buy a cake and say, “NAH. Happy birthday.”

Two of Us

My valentine

February 14, 2014 yannisms

Valentine’s Day is pretty much a non-event for us every year and I wasn’t planning to pen anything down at all. Many years ago, we decided that it was an overpriced, commercialised phenomenon and we wanted to have nothing to do with it.

But then, as fate would have it, I was asked by my students to help them out as a guest for their radio talkshow assessment today. And the theme? Why Valentine’s Day, of course.

As I looked through the list of questions that they had prepared for me, my horror grew.

Tell us about your first valentine’s date (if you remember)
What’s the most extreme thing you did?
What’s your favourite memory/sweetest thing your husband did

NOTHING. CAME. TO. MY. MIND.

Seriously. I dug and dug around in the archives of my mind and I came up with NOTHING.

Of course, the fact that I am extremely sleep-deprived and therefore has an impaired memory (it’s been medically proven!) doesn’t help. And, err, we haven’t celebrated Valentine’s Day in, like, forever. Plus, our first Valentine’s Day was over 14 years ago.

So I sent Mr Thick an SOS text. And he was as equally clueless as I was.

Hah!

I thought I was going to ruin the students’ assessment because I would have nothing to say, seeing how I remember nothing. But, as it turns out, I did have things to share and as I was talking, it struck me that I, and we, have really changed and remained unchanged over the years.

Back when I was much younger (UH-HMM), I had these silly, fancy notions of love and romance. You know, the grand gestures – dinner, flowers, the works. But now that we are older and wiser (and really tired because the other love of our lives DOES NOT SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT), my ideas of the perfect relationship and the perfect date have changed.

At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter what I do with my husband. We could be sitting down on the sofa and watching Glee together, or sitting down for a cup of coffee while the littlest of us all slept in the stroller, or lying in bed and talking about our day. It’s all very simple, and mundane, and boring, and nondescript.

But it doesn’t matter. Because we are doing it together.

And my idea of the perfect relationship? When two imperfect souls meet and fit perfectly well together.

I don’t know why I never realised it earlier but it struck me one night that hey, when he starts telling me about a joke or making a funny remark, I instinctively know where he is going. We can complete each other’s sentences. And we pick up each other’s slack. When one is sick, the other takes over automatically. And we are always fighting – to let the other charge his or her phone, to let the other have the last juicy bit of dinner etc.

We fight – but for each other.

And that’s what really counts, at the end of the day, even more so than beautiful flowers and lavish gifts.

Happy Valentine’s Day to the best partner I could ever ask for. ❤

Two of Us

Happy 14

December 31, 2013 yannisms

Dear husband,

Last year, I wrote that 14 is going to be even better than 13. And I was right. Because this year has been so damn wonderful.

We started out the year as exhausted parents of one and we are ending the year as exhausted parents of one, with another on the way. But it’s not just our roles as parents that have made this year a marvellous one, it’s that you and I are still crazy in love with each other.

It’s so hard to imagine. 14 years we have been with each other, that’s 14 years of dealing with all those insecurities and mismatched expectations and external frustrations. The insecurities and expectations, we have long gone past that. And what’s left is still the undeniable truth that we make each other laugh and love.

When I was a kid, I wanted to marry a handsome jock who would buy me a house and treat me like a princess. When I grew up, I married a geek who adopted two cats with me, bought me an iPhone docking system and treats me like an equal. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because you make me laugh so damn hard, every single day.
Because I still look at you and think, damn, I love this man so much.
Because we complete each other’s sentences.
Because we understand each other’s crappy, lame jokes.
Because you have stepped into fatherhood so perfectly and naturally.
Because you buy me ice-cream and milkshake when you sense that I need one desperately.
Because you rub my feet and calves when I am tired (and you have even taught our son to do it!).
Because you make me hot ginger tea when I am feeling sick with nausea (like last night).
Because you are the shining example to our boy on how to treat a girl right and with respect.
Because you let me get that 10 minutes of extra sleep while you take Aidan out of the room to feed him breakfast and change his diaper.
Because I buy too many pretty plates and you merely shake your head at me.
Because we have such fun cycling dates at night for ice-cream.
Because I never feel alone – never ever – when I am with you.
Because you think I am awesome and super capable and the Best Mum In The World.

And…

Because you love me so damn much and you let me know it.

There – 15 reasons for the 14 years that we have been together. I have outdone myself and you are waiting for me to go for our anniversary lunch.

To many more adventurous, crazy, laughter-filled and lovely 14 years ahead of us.

Love you many many.