Ch ch ch changes.. and a little mush.

So much has changed since I last wrote. So much in fact that it has taken me weeks of staring at my blank 'new post' screen to even put the ideas into something resembling a complete thought.

I have yet to have written this publicly but as many people know, in September my husband lost his job. This threw our entire lives into upheaval. Between panic, tears and scrambling to figure things out, I haven't stopped very long to actually put into perspective what happened here..

Doing what every mother instinctively does, I tried to nurture those around me, and make everyone feel OK with the situation. I made one of the hardest decisions I had to, which was to go back to work during the daytime. I didn't have to. I mean, for lack of any other money making option, I guess I did.. but I could have  been bitchy and complain-y (more so, I guess) and said that I wasn't changing anything, that he lost his job and that he needed to fix it. But that's not what partners do.

Marriage is give and take,
and in this situation I HAD to give,
and with each day that passes, it seems like a lot.

And while I tear up a lot lately getting used to the idea of my husband being home with her, getting to take her to her library programs, put her hair in pigtails and chose what kind of waffle she will eat in the morning, let me enlighten you about my husband a little bit.


My husband had been working at a miserable job to keep up afloat. He swallowed his pride every morning he used to have to go to work to be belittled and eat shit all day by his former employers because he knew he had to make money to take care of his family. It was killing him, his spirit and his kindness and sense of self worth and it was not paying nearly enough to deal with a third of the garbage he had to put up with.

He's 1 and ( a little less than) a half months away from graduation for his Master's Degree (in addition to which he also got a Project Management Certificate) which has taken him a LONNNNNG 4 years of stress, sitting in a cold basement, missing family gatherings/holiday celebrations, early mornings, late nights, pre-and postnatal craziness (well me, but him by default) and did I say stress (?).. He's so close they've probably almost printed his name in his diploma, and I couldn't be more proud.

He spends each moment of every day worrying. He worries about money. He worries about how he will take care of his family. He worries about me and Isabel, and wants to be sure we are safe and happy. He worries he will disappoint me. He worries about  Isabel and hopes she will grow up to be a good person, and  hopes we are doing the best we can. He worries about bills, and late charges and finance rates.. and I wish he wouldn't worry so much.

He's the most loving, dependable and caring man I could have ever asked for. Isabel is lucky to have him as her daddy, and I am truly blessed to have him walk by my side in this crazy life we live together. He's always got my back, and although I can seem adverse to a lot of his 'hair-brained' ideas, I know for a fact that he only does all of the things he does for Isabel and I. We come before him. Or happiness, our safety, our security.. it comes before his and I want him to know that I realize that.

Thank you, Mr. Bermudez for all of your hard work and love.



I love you always.