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Book Review: The Husband’s Secret

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I’ve been reading so many thrillers and decided it was time to change things up. I came across The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty and while I wasn’t sure what to expect, I found there was more weight to the plot lines than I had expected.

It took a bit to wrap my head around the three main characters, Australian women Cecilia, Tess, and Rachel. But, their stories start to intertwine and at that point, it was hard to put the book down.

Cecilia is a very organized and put together woman with a husband and three daughters. Her life becomes out of sorts the day she comes across an envelope from her husband. The contents of the letter inside are unknown but the words on the envelope ‘only open in the event of my death’ makes Cecilia’s curiosity get the best of her.

Although, out of all the scenarios she ponders, reading the letter and finding out a truth about her husband isn’t anything she could have ever imagined.

Tess thinks she has it made with her husband and young son, Liam. She has a stable and comfortable life until she finds that the people closest to her have been betraying Tess. It puts her in a tailspin and has her going off to Melbourne to stay with her mother. She also comes across an old boyfriend, Connor Whitby, which has Tess conflicted.

Marriage was a form of insanity; love hovering permanently on the edge of aggravation.

Rachel dotes on her toddler grandson, who is her world. Soon, her son and daughter-in-law drop the news that they’re moving to New York City. The thought of no longer living near her grandson is too much to bear.

Rachel is also still reeling from the loss of her teenage daughter many years ago. Her murderer has never been caught but she’s had her eye on a suspect for quite a while. Rachel finds a video that gives her the certainty of her daughter’s killer but convincing the police isn’t so easy.

Should you buy the book? Yes, if you like suspense and mystery. I’ve already downloaded another of the author’s books, Big Little Lies.

*A must see… Thunderstruck – 2Cellos

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The Stages Of Buying And Reading A Book

My husband thinks I’m nuts, which is a given, but even more so because of the emotional attachment I have with every single book I read. Even the not so great ones. But once I start a book, damn it, I have to finish it.

Example A.

I read several books at a time but there’s always a front-runner and after that book is finished, the cycle starts over again.

Stage 1: Deciding on a book to read. Sounds easy but it’s torture picking one book out of millions. Damn those first world problems.

Stage 2: I finally decide on one but there might be a few more that are in the running. As much as I love real books, I’ve been reading on my kindle more and more. So, I use the “buy now with 1-click” button. And those few other books that sounded good? The “buy now with 1-click” button makes me get those too.

You are a thing of evil buy now with 1-click button. Evil, I say!

You are a thing of evil buy now with 1-click button. Evil, I say!

I had more self-control when I would be asked for my credit card but it would be in my purse downstairs and I would be too lazy to get it. Boom, no impulsive shopping for books or anything else for that matter. Now, with that clicky button, I go clicky crazy and have accumulated so many books, I could open my own library.

Stage 3: I seem to start out reading a book and usually think, meh. Because it’s not the last book I read and my head is still in that story.

Stage 4: I cannot put the book down. I don’t want to tear myself away from the characters. My kid needs to be fed, dinner has to be made, and laundry has to finally be folded after spending the past 3 days in the dryer after being dried over and over again with the intention of taking it out but then forgetting about it. But I can’t stop reading!

Stage 5: It never fails that when I’m at a crucial point of a book, my 6 year-old wants to have every single second of my attention. Even if she has a friend over to play with. I’m convinced that kids have an internal radar that pings when you really, really need a little time by yourself. It’s like she knows and thinks “Wait a second! My mom looks like she’s enjoying herself without my company. So, I will bug the shit out of her to make sure she remembers I will never let that happen.”

For that matter, even my husband is that way. The man isn’t much of a talker but when I’ve been having a toddler like tantrum in my mind because I haven’t been able to move along in the current book I’m reading and my daughter is in bed at last, I open up my kindle and my husband seems to have a rare moment when he wants to talk and talk. They know. Oh, yes. They know.

Stage 6: Oh my god. I’m getting close to the end of the book. No! No! No! This can’t be happening. I want to finish but I can’t let these characters go!

Stage 7: I set the book aside for several days because I need time to accept the fact that it will be over soon. Sniff… sniff.

Stage 8: I finish my beloved book and it’s bittersweet. Yay, I’m done but booo, so is the story and characters I’ve been consumed with.

Stage 9: Spend days with a book hangover.

Stage 10: Finally settle on a new book. And get a few more because of that damn “buy now with 1-click” button.

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1 Year

It’s been a year since we lost Ben. He would have been 9 months old. I find it hard not to think about how life would be if he was in it.

He would have an adoring older sister who would give him plenty of attention, love, and lots of kisses.

He would be crawling and using one of the cats as a chew toy.

He would have that adorably adorable drool dripping smile.

He would have irresistible chubby baby legs.

For the longest time I was internalizing the grief. But last week I started thinking about him and just sat where I had been standing and was crying for the longest time.

Even though we were supposed to box these up months ago, his clothes are still in my bottom dresser drawer. His crib bedding and swaddling blankets are still in the office closet.

My head is telling me it’s time to accept it and put away his things.

My heart is telling me it’s not ready.

*Just Breathe

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My Therapist Is On Vacation For The Next Two Weeks. I Apologize In Advance.

I was at Target and as usual, bought much more than I planned to. You go to Target for a bottle of shampoo and end up spending $200.

After getting the things I needed, I got the hummingbird some new clothes, My Little Pony socks, and a freaking Frozen comforter. For no reason whatsoever! We give her treats occasionally for doing well in school, keeping her room clean for a week (that lasted less than a day), putting her plate in the sink, etc.

But I’ve been noticing that it’s been happening more often and I realize that I’m spoiling her and need to stop this shit.

I started to wonder if it’s because she’s an only child and I’m trying to overcompensate? Or parents of more than one child can indulge their kids too and it doesn’t matter if you have 1 kid or 4.

The other part of it is spoiling the hummingbird came more often after we lost Ben. At the time, I was so far off in my head and emotionally wasn’t there like I should have been. That’s when the treats started to become more frequent. My husband has been doing the same thing since.

I know the only way to solve this is to quit buying all this crap I’m spoiling her with. It’s one of those things that’s easier said than done though. But I really need to come up with some boundaries.

Do you treat your kids? How often? Is it only for special occasions or can it be random?

*I’ve read this back and it might not make any sense. I just don’t want to raise a spoiled brat. So, I wanted to know if you do the same with treats or if I should put the brakes on it, etc.

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Thank You

I’ve been having a really tough week with depression and even though you may not know it, I wanted to say how much I thank you, all of you, who reads my nonsensical writing.

Taking the time out in your busy day to read my blog is something I greatly appreciate, more than I can put into words.

For the past 4 years, you have helped me deal with issues just by me being able to write about them and I hope in some small way, I have helped at least someone out there by being so honest with my feelings.

I know so well what it’s like to feel alone… different from others. So, the thought of possibly having even one person feel more “normal” helps me. Needless to say, I don’t like to sugarcoat things for that reason.

If you ever feel even the tiniest inclination to reach out to me for any reason, to vent or just write to feel better, ANY REASON at all, whether or not we are strangers, please don’t hesitate to email me…. elle.mommyhood@gmail.com.

I’ll be there to listen. If it takes me time to answer, know that I’m crazy busy or scatterbrained… as usual.

So, in my usual long-winded way, THANK YOU! <3

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Throwback Thursday: My Beautiful Mom And Snazzy Grandfather

When it comes to me and having my photo taken, it’s not a good mix by any means. Even when I was a cute kid, I HATED having my photo taken. Even now, I edit my pics if I share with someone. My aunt was the same way.

Pretty much every photo I have of her has her avoiding the camera or turning her face so you couldn’t see her. Haha! It must run in the family.

Anyway, for the past 15 years or so, I’ve been telling my husband that I want to organize our big ass box of pictures and put them into photo albums. Someday, I really want to pass them on to the hummingbird.

As I was looking through the photos, I found a photo of my beautiful mother and my very snazzy maternal grandfather. He was the coolest grandfather ever, the best.

He passed away when I was only 15 and I think about him every single day. We spent the day together one day during the summer and his last words to me were “See you soon! Two months later, he left this earth.

But, I have my beloved photos of him and will forever keep him in my memory and think of him always. He had a tattoo on his arm that he got while in the military that I thought was so cool. He fought in World War 2, was part of the Flying Tigers, and was a police officer.

My family didn’t have cable but he would put a video in his VCR (fuck, I feel old), and record hours of MTV for me, back when they actually played music videos.

He would do those little things for me that I greatly appreciated. I love him dearly.

The little hummingbird has been told plenty about how wonderful her great-grandfather was. I hope she learns more about him as the years go by and see just how special he was.

My incredible grandfather.

My incredible grandfather.

 

My beautiful mother.

My beautiful mother.

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I’m Finally Ready

Well, as ready as one can be after losing a child.

After we lost Ben, it took some time to receive his ashes. When we finally got them, we quietly decided that the best thing to do at the time was to lock them in our safe.

While we didn’t speak the words, I think it was mostly because we weren’t ready to accept it. So there his ashes sat, locked away along with our feelings about such a tremendous loss.

Recently, I felt it was time to take them out. Time to slowly face what happened, as difficult as it is.

The loss is too great and I still can’t seem to find the words to express my grief.

The pain comes in waves and I think the reason that it happens that way is because if grief came all at once, it would be too overwhelming to handle.

Too heartbreaking.

So much more heartbreaking and devastating than it already is when dealing with this grief every day.

But I’m finally ready to take this first step.

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