Let Me Tell You Something Read online

  I see a long relationship as a house that you’re building. And every event that happens to you as a couple is another brick in the wall of your house. And every event that you get through together is another layer. So when you’ve just started dating, your house is still being built. You have the foundation and one brick. It’s not a house yet. You have to stay together and be patient, and let the bricks start to add up, until you have built a very strong house that can withstand anything.

  When you’re young and still in the beginning or honeymoon stage of dating, your relationship is just a baby. You’re still going to dinners and seeing movies and going on great vacations. You’ll need to come through some bad times together before you get stronger.

  The absolute essential thing that is a good foundation for a long marriage is your friendship with your partner. You can never become boring to him and have to keep up with him. If your husband loves football, sports of any kind, develop at least a basic knowledge of it so he can talk to you. Just the same for him—he needs to know about whatever your hobbies are outside of him. Also never ever become a nag. No man wants to be married to his mother. Nags are awful people. Nagging gets you nowhere.

  I love the way Albert looks today. There are things I love about him now that I didn’t see then. He’s a man now. He was a boy then. When I look at him, he’s still the boy I started dating. He says when he looks at me, he can still see the little square-faced girl that he met thirty-one years ago.

  I cannot wait for the next phase in our lives, when we become grandparents. He and I talk about it all the time. We talk about selling our house when the kids move out, but we need something that is still big enough for our grandkids to come stay. We talk about getting a place by Central Park so we can take the kids into the park all the time, or maybe even out on Cape Cod, or Hoboken, so we can have a boat.

  Albert will be an incredible grandfather, and I feel like the next thirty years will be even better than the first. He’ll be retiring soon, hopefully, and we’re really going to travel the world together and do all the stuff he never got to do because he dedicated his life to making our life better. Now I want to pay him back.

  I’m thrilled to think of myself at eighty, married to Al for sixty years and surrounded by grandkids. After getting our marriage into great shape for thirty years, I think the next thirty will be a snap. I’ll look at Al when he’s eighty, and I’ll still be saying, there’s my handsome man. I’ll hold his hands, look into his eyes, and know that he’s in every fiber of me.

  Ask Caroline

  Caroline: I recently got married and had a baby. I’m currently on maternity leave, and my husband and I are still financially separate. Despite having some savings, I know that soon I will have to rely on my husband financially, but I have been independent for so long that I’m worried I’ll feel like a kept woman. How do I address this with my husband?

  I think it’s great that you want to maintain a sense of independence, but you have to realize that the landscape of your life has changed. It’s OK to have separate bank and checking accounts as a married couple, but there comes a time when you have to realize that a marriage is a partnership, and when children come into the picture the game changes.

  There is absolutely no shame in relying on your husband; it’s his child too.

  You are certainly not a kept woman, your role in life has shifted, and you have a responsibility to your child now, that’s why they call you Mommy and Daddy.

  As far as feeling like a kept woman, let me know how you feel a couple of months from now; a mother’s work is the most grueling work on the planet. You have no sick days, no time off, and no overtime pay. A kept woman? Hardly . . . the reward is priceless and so worth the sacrifice.

  Marrying someone I never

  lived with was tough—and

  so were our early years.

  It all seems so old-fashioned now, but when we got married, we had never lived together. We’d never been away together. So after the whirlwind of our wedding day, we flew off to San Francisco to begin our honeymoon, and it was such a huge adjustment, we both freaked-out!

  The morning after we arrived, we woke up in bed and just stared at each other, not speaking at all. Albert finally broke the silence and said what was on both our minds: “Did we make a mistake?”

  I looked into his eyes, and I was just so confused.

  “You know, I think we did,” I said. “I think I want to go home.”

  We lay in bed a long time, and we started talking. We realized that we were both just so damned nervous. It felt like there was so much weight on our shoulders, and at that moment we felt like complete strangers. We both wanted to run home to our old lives!

  We agreed to stay on the honeymoon, to have as much fun as we could, and if things didn’t work out, we’d go home and break up. We’d give back all the presents and go our separate ways.

  The next day we woke up laughing, realizing what stupid idiots we were. We just had the worst case of jitters, of stepping into a new life and realizing that everything we’d known our whole lives was now completely changed. We went on to have such a beautiful, memorable honeymoon, and then we returned to New Jersey to start our new life, and once again, I had a lot of learning to do.

  I had a lot to adjust to. I had lived in a house that was always full of people; I have never liked being home alone. Suddenly, I was home, alone, a lot. It was my worst nightmare, and I had to figure out how to deal with it. We lived above The Brownstone, so if Al had a free moment, he’d sneak upstairs to see me. Sometimes, I’d go down and work with him, just so we had some time together.

  Ask Caroline

  Caroline, my husband is a very busy physician and he works at least eighty hours a week. I don’t see this changing anytime soon. While I’m grateful for all his hard work, I often feel lonely and disconnected. We have one young son, and we live two thousand miles from where we grew up, and our families. Any suggestions?

  I know the feeling. My husband works long hours as well, but this is something I knew and accepted as part of our relationship from the beginning. I would imagine the same holds true for a doctor’s wife.

  I’d suggest that you have a conversation with your husband and try to find a balance between his home and work life. It’s important that you both get onto the same page, which will take a bit of compromise from both sides.

  If your husband is making an effort to spend time with you at home, then find ways to make these moments special. Be affectionate to him, and let your son see that you love each other.

  When your husband is working, take a minute to text him that you love him, or send him a picture of you and your son waving to him. Leave a lipstick kiss on the mirror for him to see when he comes home late. Small gestures go a long way.

  Even though your families are far away, you are surrounded by people who can become good friends. Find something that interests you. Join a gym, volunteer at a hospital, take classes at a local college, anything. Just do something. Do not sit around and feel sorry for yourself.

  Trust me, I’ve been in your shoes, and in many ways I still am. Attitude is everything. If you have a good man and your relationship is solid, you will find a way to make it work.

  Al had to make the business work. He was taking care of his family and me. Sometimes it just got to be too much for the both of us. To me, it felt like there was never time for us as a couple. He was working seven days a week, from noon until three in the morning. I would bombard him with demands, that I needed more of his time. I needed to know when we’d have time to make us work as a couple.

  I’d break down and then I’d regroup. I’d realize that I was being unreasonable. People asked how I dealt with Al’s long hours, and my answer was always that it wasn’t like he was at the golf course, he was at work. He was missing out on doing things he wanted to do too.

  I won’t lie. Sometimes I’d just fall apart. I’d cry. I would think I couldn’t do it anymore. We had no money; we lived in
an apartment above The Brownstone after we got married. We showed it last season on the TV show, when we went back there for our anniversary. When I go there these days, I smile from ear to ear. I remember our time in that apartment, and I look at how far we’ve come. But at the time he was making $200 a week, and working 105 hours a week for the paycheck.

  We lived in that apartment for two years, until Albie was born. Then we were lucky enough to be able to afford a house when Albie was four months old.

  I had three kids in three years. When I found out I was pregnant with Christopher, Lauren was only four months old, and I just had a complete breakdown. It just didn’t seem fair. When I found out that I was going to be dealing with three kids under three, it just all hit me at once.

  When I brought Christopher home on Albie’s third birthday, I was alone. My mother-in-law was a tremendous help—I’d go by her house all day with the kids and hang out, but at seven o’clock I’d go back to my house, and I’d be alone with the kids until Albert got home seven or eight hours later.

  There was a short period after Christopher’s birth when I stopped caring about what I looked like. It was too hard. I was full of self-pity, and Al was never home, so I just said to myself, “Why did I even have to bother to try?”

  My mother stepped in. She told me I was young and beautiful and my husband deserved to see his young beautiful wife every day—even if he only saw me for five minutes!

  How to make time for date nights when you have kids

  1. Go with what works for you. If your husband works nights, have a breakfast date. Use whatever time you have. You’ll be surprised how romantic this can be.

  2. Meet in the kitchen for coffee every morning before the kids wake up, and talk about whatever’s on your mind.

  3. A date doesn’t have to be a big-budget special event. It can be a shared moment at any time of the day. Sometimes I like to go hug Al while he’s shaving, and we laugh and catch up and it’s as good as any date we’ve been on.

  4. Time to connect is more important than insisting on the pressure of a full date night. If you are both too busy to plan a big date, try to ensure that you have a half hour to yourselves each day to just check in with each other.

  5. Call and say I love you, or send a text. Do it whenever he pops into your mind, so you are letting him know that you’re thinking of him.

  6. A movie isn’t date night. That’s not connecting. I mean, if you want to go see a movie, fine, but it doesn’t count as date night.

  7. Find a great sitter that you and your kids both like, and treat him or her very well.

  When I was younger and less secure, I worried about other women. People meet Albert at The Brownstone and assume he’s rich. It’s always a party atmosphere in that place, and I’d seen a lot of women flirting with my husband. Some days, I’d lie in bed and worry that he wasn’t really at work, that he was with another woman somewhere.

  Ultimately it was the kids, and not me, that got Albert to work a little less. They were very small, but they were all having those breakthrough moments, almost every day. Those little firsts that are so wonderful—first steps, first words—and Albert was missing them all. I told him that he needed to take time and be present for these milestones. It wasn’t just him and me anymore, he needed to make the time to be with these kids. So we created Daddy Day. It’s Wednesday. We go to dinner with our kids, even now at least one of them, every Wednesday. And on that day, he dedicates himself to me and the family.

  I’m still not a perfect wife. I’m somewhere between a good wife and an excellent one. Albert made a smart choice when he married me, and I work my ass off to make sure it’s still a smart choice. We grew up together, and we went through hell and back together. I had two miscarriages, we lost his father, his business was a struggle, but we literally worked so closely together that we made it through it all and became great for each other. And I learned that it’s better to be an understanding wife than a perfect wife.

  My miscarriages didn’t

  destroy me.

  I had two miscarriages when I was very young. My first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, and I had another one in between Albie and Lauren. The first one was terrifying for me. I was upset and I was so scared. We had been so happy to discover that we were going to have a baby, and then we learned that there was something wrong the week of my sister-in-law’s wedding, and I was in the bridal party.

  I remember feeling unwell, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then I started cramping and staining. Al called the doctor, and he came and examined me. He told me the baby still had a heartbeat, and I was to stay on my back to try to keep the baby healthy. On the night before Al’s sister’s wedding, I went to the hospital for another examination, and the doctor told me that the heartbeat was gone,

  The doctor told me that I had lost the baby, and I needed to walk in order to bring on a miscarriage. They were going to make me walk the halls of that hospital until my body miscarried naturally, and they told me that it could take hours of walking to make that happen.

  I looked at Albert and told him I wanted him to go home. I wanted him to leave, and I wanted him to be at his sister’s wedding the next day. Their father was gone, his family needed him. He argued, he wanted to stay, but I stood firm. There was nothing he could do for me at that point except stare at me. I wanted him to go.

  He eventually left, and I cried my ass off. When I was done crying, I got up and I just walked and walked all night until it happened. It was all so awful, and such a blur. To this day, I’m happy I made Al leave, and I’m happy that he got to be there for his sister at her wedding, even though it was not an easy day for any of us.

  The second miscarriage was worse in that I already had one happy, healthy baby, I knew the joy of having a successful pregnancy, and I also remembered the horrible experience of losing a baby. I knew what I was in for, and that didn’t make it any easier.

  The second time, they made me do the walking too. And once again, I told Al to leave.

  He really fought me that time. He was determined to stay. I began the walking with him by my side, but after a while, I forced him to leave. I knew what was ahead of me, and I didn’t want him to see it happen. I didn’t want him to have to think about what was happening, and I didn’t want to look into his eyes when it happened.

  Al left and went back to work at The Brownstone. I walked for several hours, and once it was time for the D and C, he came back and was with me for that part. It was just a sad, grim time for us both.

  Throughout these miscarriages, I managed to hold it together. Both times I was very matter-of-fact about it. I told myself, It’s not what God wants. I knew that I just wasn’t meant to have that baby. Maybe there was something wrong with that baby, and maybe I was dodging a bullet.

  I never grieved at all. I was almost cold about it. But both of those pregnancies ended early. I never felt those babies kick, I never knew if they were boys or girls, I never felt that little flutter that tells you that there’s a life growing inside you. My sadness around those times was me grieving about the thought of being pregnant.

  God bless these poor women who carry to full term or have to give birth to a baby that they’ve lost. I can barely imagine going through that, and I praise the Lord that I’ve never had to experience it. I could never underestimate the agony that someone would feel after going through that. It’s a huge difference; I miscarried at eight or ten weeks, both times. They were babies that just weren’t meant to be.

  When I got pregnant with each of my kids, I was scared. I could never look forward to pregnancy, I was always terrified of miscarrying. The fear got even worse after I’d felt that first little flutter and I knew something was moving around inside me. It was just so hard to be confident that I’d carry the baby to term, that it wouldn’t end in heartbreak. But three times, I was lucky.

  When people ask how many children I have, I tell them I have three. I know I’ll meet the other two in heaven one day. Christophe
r, Lauren, and Albie are the three kids I was meant to have. I can’t imagine my life without them.

  Ask Caroline

  Caroline! I watch the show while I’m feeding my one-month-old. We only have one child now but we want more. What can we do to make sure our kids are as close as yours are? My husband wants to have number two right away, but I want to wait—what age difference is good?

  I don’t think the age difference matters. That’s up to you and your husband, talking and deciding when you are both ready to add another child.

  As for keeping the children close, I think that had a lot to do with Albert and I being very hands-on with our kids. We took family vacations together, and we took the kids to watch each other’s sports games. We would get the kids to help each other with homework and chores around the house. We would all sit and talk and laugh at the dinner table. When they argued or fought, we’d try to let them sort it out, and they learned how to communicate and how to forgive. Never favor one of your kids over the others, and they’ll never resent each other.

  Good luck! Give your baby a hug from me.