Status Change: Married

isn't it always the case that the girl who thinks she's least likely to get married ends up married? and isn't it always a cliche to think that about oneself? well, check and check, self. so guess what? now you are someone's wife. that means for life. and how do you feel about it? perfectly delighted. ok, good, now let's stop talking about ourselves in the second person and get to that wedding thing.


going to the chapel and we're gonna get ma-a-a-ried.


my eyelashes were fake. that fearful look was real.

leading up to the wedding, i can't say things were perfectly delightful. even though we didn't exactly have a proper wedding, just a courthouse ceremony, there was still plenty of stress involved. i can't imagine how much worse it would have been if we had planned for 150 guests, but even with less than 20, there was still much hand-wringing, phone calls, budgeting, discussions and compromises to be made.

 
ready to live happily ever after.

 
getting married solves all your relationship problems, right?

i suppose like it does for many other brides, all that stress did take the sparkle out of my big day -- until the actual big day when everything magically fell into place. but considering that i was eight months pregnant and also scrambling to prepare for baby and baby shower while still working full-time plus freelance, the ceremony did sometimes feel like just another agenda item to check off my lengthy To Do list. and when i did finally check it off, i can't deny that the perfect delight was mixed with a large dose of relief.


happy to have found a wall to lean against.

 
boobs and roses. i gots them.


hoping the classy pearls deflect from my pregnant belly

it goes without saying that every little girl's dream is having a shotgun wedding at the local courthouse while eight months pregnant, and i am no exception. but if i had to do it all over again, i wouldn't change a thing. scratch that, i would be less visibly pregnant but definitely still pregnant enough to show, as having a baby bump meant i didn't have to endure a liquid diet leading up to the wedding or suck in my gut during any of the photos.


his is new and made of cobalt; hers is a family heirloom provided by his mother.


my prince charming


with his best friends, Danny and Alex

at least i know i got the groom part right. even though i don't think i'm yet qualified to discuss marriage with any authority, given my limited experience as a newlywed of six months, i do know that when i considered marrying Warren, the thought didn't make me panic or plan an escape to Canada, as it had with every previous man i dated. i knew with Warren i felt calm, safe, even lucky.


my secret is out: i'm a big ole crybaby.

so on Friday, February 20, 2015, in front of a handful of family and friends who are like family -- some of whom flew into town just for the weekend -- we went to the Beverly Hills Office of the Registrar-Recorder to join our lives together in perpetuity. the ceremony lasted less than 10 minutes and was performed by a Justice of the Peace we met only minutes before.


i chose wisely.

there was a glass for Warren to smash at the end to make it a proper Jewish-esque wedding, after which everyone yelled "MAZEL TOV!" sadly, there was no Hora chair lifting going on since, you know, eight months pregnant. plus, we had a 15-minute maximum to spend in the chapel before the next couple was ushered in to have their own happiest day of their lives.


sealed with a smooch


with my mom and pops, my marriage role models who have 45+ years of wedded bliss and strife to their credit. crazier yet is that they still like each other.

the ceremony moved quickly and was a bit of a blur. what i do remember is liking what the Justice of the Peace said during his opening speech and especially the vows he asked us to recite to each other. i also remember the Justice asking Warren whether he was from Crimea since he couldn't figure out the country code "CRI" that was on our marriage license. we told him we would have a vacation home in Costa Rica one day, where he could visit at any time.


ours is an LA Story.


too much pressure from his hand and i might wet myself.

all that vow-taking and commitment-making worked up our appetites, so we had the wedding party mozy over to one of my favorite Spanish restaurants in Los Angeles: La Paella, where Warren and i had a reconnaisance date night a month earlier to decide on a menu for our post-wedding lunch. the place, obviously, is known for its authentic paella, which include a black squid ink variety that does not disappoint. i can't say enough great things about this place and the manager, Pasqual, who provided five-star service while not charging us a cake-cutting or corkage fee for the dessert and bottles of vodka we brought in.


freshly made surf and turf paella


the black squid ink paella 


the esteemed guests partaking in hijinks and hilarity.

lunch lasted about two hours and brought together a motley of our families and closest friends. if i could do it over again, i would have invited twice as many people as several of my favorite faces were missing from the crowd that day. on the flipside, having less than 20 people present created an intimacy that a larger wedding could never replicate.


my dad giving a characteristically long-winded toast that could have been summed up with "welcome to the family, warren!"


these two are colluding against me, i just know it. 


with the first and enduring love of my life. daddy's girl forever!

despite my usually obscene appetitie while pregnant, i remember eating very little at lunch and mostly wishing i could drink. after the whirlwind of planning, rushing, parking, pictures, vows and tears, i wanted nothing more than to sit down and have a bottle of expensive wine all by myself, but managed only a few sips of sangria during toasts. yes, i drank while pregnant. alert the authorities.


toasting my beloved. 


with my torrero. orale!

as a bonafide Russian and my father's daughter, i also gave a characteristically long-winded toast. i started by first thanking all the special people in the room, who survived every cut to make a very short list of 20 esteemed guests, for spending their friday with us, work be damned. i also extended a special thanks to my mom for the prep help, which included furnishing the bouquet, cake, vodka, plastic shot glasses and real glass for Warren to step on during the ceremony.

all the love in the room was palpable and bouyant, and i spoke of how it carried us to our wedding day and will see us through the many days that follow, some of them certainly less happy. i thanked everyone for the support offered to us as a couple and to our then unborn child, who was very much wanted and will be lucky to learn from the people who've already given us so much. then i turned my focus to my new husband, also very much wanted, whom i thanked for everything, everything in the most cliche way possible that may have included calling myself "the luckiest girl in the world." i meant every word.


wedded bliss began with paella


cake topper with pregnant bride, courtesy of my mom and a google image search.


for the life of me, i cannot remember what was in this cake. maybe lemon? there were cupcakes also. i ate all the red velvet ones. that part i do remember.

after lunch, we headed to a park in Beverly Hills to take some more glamour shots among the dying daylight. to be honest, this part of the day felt silly to me with all the posing and prolonged kissing to get a shot. plus, the exhaustion from the long day began to set in as my makeup began to bleed, making for a very short photo session of giggling and "are we done yets?"


keep that tongue in your mouth, buddy.


among dead roses and our light bouncer, Alex, i found true love.


are we done yet?

when the day concluded and we arrived home to marvel at the fact that we joined our lives together in perpetuity, the conversation went something like, "that was fun. how about a nap?" we woke up 12 hours later. then, clumsily and carefully, we consummated our marriage via a little game i had perfected during my pregnancy called "if you want it, you're going to have to do all the work."


signed, sealed and delivered

fast forward six months and one baby, and our lives are still joined together in perpetuity, though now mired in poopy diapers, tired eyes and the squeals of one particular infant who loves waking up at 4:30 in the morning. i'm guessing the first six months of our marriage are atypical by conventional standards, and i admit they have been challenging given our new bundle of love and sleep deprivation, but they have also felt very solid.

of course, our union is far from perfect and there is plenty i would eagerly change about him, but those things (thankfully) don't number in the hundreds (close to five). i'll avoid mentioning them here out of respect for his privacy but they may have something to do with his OCD tendencies that have spawned a few lectures about how to load the dish rack "correctly," which, sadly, doesn't resemble the imaginative Jenga art installation that is my specialty.


he gets this look at least five times a day.


also a five-time-a-day occurrence.

more importantly, when i consider having a son with him -- which, hey, we just had! -- and should that son turn out exactly like his father, the thought makes me smile and never once wince. if that alone isn't reason to marry a man, perhaps the fact that Warren is an exceptional lover, a great cook, a kind person, a good communicator, likes being productive, shares my sense of humor, keeps the house tidy, is incredibly reliable and the best kisser point to other good reasons.


are we really going to do this?


yeah, we got this.

that's how i know i married the right person, found after a lengthy search full of many disastrous detours, all of which i can now appreciate for helping me fine-tune my search parameters. and though i do wish i found him a little sooner and that we could have enjoyed more time as a childless married couple, i'll just put those wishes in the same jar that the wish for the dream wedding went into. we have been doing things out of order since we met, so perhaps we'll plan the dream wedding for our sixties when we can enjoy the childless life.


getting married is so much fun.



so now comes the happily ever after part, which i'm sure will resemble every fairy tale with a prince, princess and evildoer trying to secretly unwrangle the happy couple's happiness (children?). so far, our happiness has been overshadowed by the logistics of scheduling, housework, sleep schedules, dog duties and trash collection, especially since i've returned to working full-time. but i think this is what marriage really is: it's the mundane, the humdrum, the trenches.

it's getting through the daily duties together, often dispassionately, and still managing to find joy in the better days and exchange support during the harder ones. it's about lightening the mood, letting go, angering slowly and forgiving quickly. it's about the knowing glances and shy smiles that confirm that we will make time for each other once the baby is asleep. it's about endurance, dedication, a commitment to the commitment, and the satisfaction of tapping into the chemistry we've always had, the one sometimes buried under the routine of building a life together, to know that yes, we would do this all over again.

******

wedding day helpers, all of which i recommend without reservation:

• dress: purchased in the maternity section (on sale for just 50 bucks!) at Asos.com
• photography: www.facebook.com/FarahStop
• makeup: www.jamiesmakeup.com
• hair: www.yelp.com/biz/hadassah-hair-studio-and-spa-los-angeles
• lunch: La Paella (manager: Pasqual)

Dear Nico: Month 4

Dear Nico:

if last month was all about your awareness of your own body, this month has been all about how you can use it. you’ve gone from staring at your hands for hours to grabbing at objects and exploring their textures. your feet are interesting to you as well, your foot fetish still in full swing, as you stomp them against my body, kick them in the bath and worm them into my hands.

as your dutiful servant, i know now to cup your feet and rub your toes during each nursing session, which seems to please you until you get bored and decide to walk your feet up my arm and kick me in the face. you have been treating me like a piece of furniture, one you need to be in constant contact with, draping your arms and legs over me as though i were an armchair.

your affection is really skyrocketing now, no doubt encouraged by my own affection, which is near smothering levels. you like holding hands and receiving kisses and burrowing into cuddles and every other form of touch i lavish you with.

every morning, when your father gets you from your crib and brings you into our bed, you splay your arms out wide until you are touching both of us before displaying your best gummy grin. we comply by moving even closer toward you so we may alternate planting kisses on your cheek. you just lie there giggling. it's my favorite part of the day. 

you’ve also been getting more adept at letting us know just what you need, so we may do a better job at serving you, our child king. whether it’s your soft whimpering when i put my boob away too soon, the shifting of your weight when you’d like to get closer to something or the screams of despair when you are strapped into your car seat too long or being fed by bottle, you are very vocal about making your feelings and preferences known.

the bright side of this is that it’s usually easy to stop your crying. i can stop it the fastest by simply picking you up, often from the arms of another family member who is holding you as you cry, causing them minor heartache that they couldn’t soothe you while giving me a secret thrill that i’m the only one who can. 

 

you’ve also taken to hanging upside down, causing me to nickname you “batboy.” the head rush you get from this has become your new favorite drug, an obsession you pursue several times a day by whining while trying to launch yourself off my chest. this is my cue to lay your body flat across my lap and let your arms and head dangle.

a few times, i even stood up and held you upside down by your feet and waist, drawing squeals of approval. then i went to my laptop and googled “is it safe to dangle a baby upside down?” the responses were mixed, but because i haven’t seen any visible signs of brain damage yet, i think it was a safe bet.

besides remarking on your big owl eyes, when people see you, they often marvel at the fact that you are not a blubbering mess of baby tears and frustration. and, indeed, you remain relatively calm in a room full of people, showing much more interest in observing them than playing with your toys, which bore you within seconds.

but with people, you become Mr. Observant, another new nickname of yours -- in addition to marshmallow, big head, handsome prince and gordito -- that lets me know i need to quit swearing and yelling at the dogs. you can stare at people for hours, your giant peepers registering a look of constant curiosity and awe.

this is when i wish most that you could tell me what you are thinking and how you are finding the strange actions of your new tribespeople, how they compare with those found in the place from which you came, if you miss that place and those people or are happy with where you landed.

 

instead, you’ll just blink those owl eyes, leaning in closer toward the things you really want to observe (usually food or the dogs). i lean into you plenty as well, often to just to smell you, my darling drug of choice, lighting up the pleasure centers of my brain as though you were a pile of Colombian cocaine.

 

i suppose this is the crux of motherhood, this addiction i have to you and your smell, powered by hormones and Darwinism, and already making me bemoan the fact that you are changing too fast despite being just four months old.

i’ve heard enough people tell me to “enjoy it because it goes by so fast,” and i’ve wanted to stab those people every single time, but i want you to know that i am enjoying this early, precious time together when your big, glorious eyes regard me and the rest of the world with wonder and awe. hopefully, you can see that my eyes regard you the same way.