Today marks three years since Drew asked me to marry him. That’s us just after he popped the question and I said yes. He proposed in Central Park (where we were married a few months later) on a snowy, wintry Friday afternoon just after work. I met him at the entrance of the park which was, at the time, just a few blocks from where we were living. A week earlier I had given him my great-grandmother’s engagement ring (which I had procured from my mother over the recent holidays) and told him to have it sized and give it back to me when he was ready.
So on February 6, 2009, we met in Central Park for a Friday evening stroll and, as we were crossing over one of the bridges near the southwest entrance, he made some motion to the sidewalk below and said as nonchalantly as he could muster: “Oh, look!” I peered over the edge of the bridge and saw the words “Wendy, Will you marry me? — Drew” written in big sidewalk chalk. I said “yes” and the rest, as they say, is history. Later this week will mark one year since I found out I was pregnant with Jackson — another exciting day in our lives, for sure.
In addition to these dates, we also acknowledge the day our mutual friend put us in touch with each other for the first time (April 19th), the day of our blind date (May 5th, which also happens to be my mom’s birthday) and, of course, our wedding anniversary (July 24th). We don’t “celebrate” all these occasions, but if we remember, we at least make some verbal note of it and sort of acknowledge the passing of time and how well things have worked out so far.
What about you? Do you and your significant other have special dates on the calendar you mark every year? And if you’ve been engaged, what was your proposal like?
by Wendy on February 6, 2012
· in It's Personal,Open Thread
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As I’ve been mentioning, today is the first birthday of DearWendy.com. This is a big deal for me because I didn’t know if this site would ever happen, let alone be successful enough in its first year to keep it going (and hopefully going and going). I have to give my old personal blog, CityWendy, a shout-out because even though it’s on hiatus right now, if it weren’t for that site, this one would not exist. Did you know there was some dispute over who owned the name “Dear Wendy”? Well, there was. But years ago — like, back in 2005 or 2006 — I used to post letters from readers on CityWendy and write advice, a series I called “Dear Wendy.” Those few letters enabled me to trademark the name and launch this site last year with minimal drama. So, to all of you plugging away on your hobbies wondering what good they’ll ever do besides give you some personal enjoyment and satisfaction, you never know — they may save you from getting sued one day!
Anyway, I also have to give you guys a shout-out because you’re the real reason this site has made it to its first birthday. Thank you for spending part of your day here. Thank you for your comments, your letters, and your words of encouragement. I always hoped this site would turn into a community where people would feel like they could get thoughtful advice not just from me but from other readers as well. There were some dark days in my 20s I would have loved to have had a community like this to give me some perspective and remind me that “this too shall pass.” There’s something about hearing from people who have traveled a similar course, saying: “I’ve been there. It sucked. But I survived and you will too.” I’m glad we can be that voice for each other.
So, thanks. You guys rock.
by Wendy on January 24, 2012
· in It's Personal,Program notes
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I feed my baby formula. Exclusively. Here in Brooklyn that’s one of the biggest parenting offenses you can commit. It’s right up there with circumcision and “crying it out” in terms of emotionally scarring your child for life. I didn’t plan to feed my baby formula. Or, I should say that wasn’t my preference. But ever since I had breast reduction surgery when I was 19, I knew that it was unlikely I’d be able to exclusively breastfeed any babies I had. My surgeon told me it was a “wait and see” thing and that I wouldn’t know whether I’d be able to breastfeed until I had a baby and tried to.
When Jackson was born, I didn’t try to breastfeed him right away. The first 12 hours were just so crazy that I can’t remember why I didn’t try. Did I not know I should? Did no one suggest it to me? Was I too tired? Was I scared that I couldn’t do it? I can’t remember. But I do remember about 12 hours or so after he was born visiting him in the NICU, where he was being treated for jaundice and low blood sugar, and attempting to breastfeed for the first time then. Jackson, Drew and I sat in this small private room just off the NICU and with a pillow on my lap to prop up the baby, I tried to feed him. He was so little, though — only 5 pounds — and his mouth so tiny, that we weren’t able to get a good latch. Consequently, that was the first time I failed at breastfeeding. [Click to continue]
by Wendy on January 18, 2012
· in Essays,It's Personal,Parenthood
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There’s a joke that once you have kids, you stop having sex. That isn’t exactly true or there would never be any siblings. Still, there is truth in most clichés, and one of the challenges I’ve found since becoming a mom is simply finding time to be with Drew, just us.
The first three weeks were the hardest. My hormones were so crazy after giving birth and my whole world seemed to turn upside down and I wasn’t getting any sleep and Jackson was screaming non-stop and suddenly I was sharing my favorite person with someone else, someone who, quite frankly, was annoying me much more than he was charming me. Drew hates it when I put it like that, but it’s the truth. I had a hard time connecting to my baby those first few weeks and as much as I loved him and hoped things would get better — they have! — a part of me worried that I had made a mistake, a mistake that was going to really screw up my marriage (it wasn’t and it hasn’t). [Click to continue]
by Wendy on January 11, 2012
· in Essays,It's Personal,Parenthood
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