And he needs a sure thing.
We both do.
Yesterday was Thursday. We try, the boys and I, to allow him plenty of time to sleep, but they often find it irresistible to allow him to sleep when they can wake him up. The excitement of his actually being home when they wake up is too much, despite my desperate pleas to "let daddy rest". Knocking on his door, jumping in bed with him, asking him to turn on the tv or play a "quick" game with them. The draw towards him is too much for their little bodies to resist. Plus they argue over toys and seats at the table, and who got more yogurt in their bowl, and pretty much everything, ever. The noise level is typically high. Big Strong Man practically has to lock himself in a fort to sleep in past 7 o'clock.
This also happens to be the only day either of us has to make appointments (hello, trip to the gyno with three boys???) and be able to go, solo.
To get in the car and drive away, alone.
To listen to the latest Jen Hatmaker podcast, uninterrupted.
To eat my trail mix without sharing.
As it is, both he and I enjoy these trips.
We enjoy the few hours of solitude.
So yesterday I had a few appointments and then a quick trip to the pediatrics on top of them where we learned that both Zeplin and Thatcher have Strep Throat. AGAIN.
Graciously (?), Demetri was at the pediatrician on Monday where we learned that he had a double ear infection and was given Amoxicillian for it. IF he picked-up his brother's Strep, he was already combating it with medication. Gracious.
After Pre-K pick-up for Demetri, and a pancake lunch for the whole of us, I was off- solo.
Not to disappoint, I listened to Jen and her guest, AARTI SEQUEIRA and ate it all up. The accent. The underdog story. The way Aarti kept relating sharing food and breaking bread with intimacy. *sigh* #sogood
My first stop was at the dermatologists where I had two stubborn warts which demanded a second round of cryotherapy and a few others which were new (eww) or I had forgotten existed last month. Thankfully, the pain wasn't too terrible. Last time I wanted to cry, this time, not so much.
After I endured my #adventuresofwartgirl life, I had an hour before my next appointment and spent it walking around ROSS *bless*. I think <3 ROSS <3 is -quite literally-
the Best.
Store.
Ever.
I wanted everything.
I am cheap, though, so I bought nothing.
Next stop was to the beauty salon on the lake, which is fancy and sells jewlery and has leather couches as well as both a dog and cat walking around like they own the joint. My friend Heather entertained me while chopping off my dead ends (um, four inches of dead ends??!!) and giving me bangs.
I was so nervous because, let's face it, bangs are total Russian roulette crap. You live or you die- there is no in between.
Turns out I think they are awesome and I am #soproud of moi! I did it- I broke out of my decade-and-a-half, signature, long, side sweep. I am a girl with chunky bangs.
When I returned home, Demtri, such a charmer, told me to "take my hair back", and Big Strong Man told me he liked them but he said it through his teeth. Zep *bless* told me they looked great. He said it over and over, in a "I truly mean it" and not a "I am trying to convince you of my lie" way. I think all three responses were gold.
Between BANGS and GOLD, Dawn invited me to her house for a min. That was about all the time I had- remember, Thursdays are coveted "I need 'me time'" days for BSM and I both. I already knew my three-hours of flying solo (cryotherapy or not) was pushing it and he could have been -quite literally- counting down the minutes until my return for a sudden need to "look at that thing... at that place...." That really important, elusive "thing".
Graciously, he said to go and have fun. No strings attached. *luurve*
So I went to her house -on the lake- and sat with her children and shared guacamole which I wanted to eat with a spoon and not share at all. She complimented my hair and I watched as she prepared dinner.
Then she mentioned joining the mom's group in our church and catching up on the book we are reading, Timothy Keller's, The Meaning of Marriage, and how her husband said something to her which made her imagine how nice it would be to return to kissing 101.
She shared her heart and relationship-quirks and I sat there, dumbfounded, before I mustered up the sense to assure her that it was as if she was reading my diaries.
I could relate TO IT ALL.
We concluded our conversation with a promise of couple's dinner and getting our men together to talk- which is much trickier for men than it is for women.
But the Kissing 101? That was all her.
I loved it, though, the moment she spoke it.
The truth about...that thing.
What was it, what first drew a connection between us and the men who would be our husbands?
Was it:
adventure
risk
love
romance
danger
excitement
...forbidden?
And we agreed that sometimes there is a need to relearn how to love our spouses.
We need intimacy to be legit, not forced, scheduled, or dutiful.
About here was when I realized -amidst all our issues- Big Strong Man and I are not alone. Marriage is difficult and flat-out hard and sometimes lonely. And we are not alone.
I realized in Dawn's honesty, that we are not alone.
...you are not alone.
I am officially no longer doing Whole30. It is day, idk, 33 or something for me. Today I wanted tea. I wanted it when I first woke up and I wanted it now, as I sat to type; sons sleeping in the room down the hall. Bethel music playing through my phone. Feet up on the lounge. I wanted tea- craved it. This is mostly interesting only because 5 days ago (whilst still living in Whole30 Land), I was
So.
Over.
Hot.
Tea. ...haha
I suppose it rubbed off on me. Truth be told, and shockingly, I might add, I have been picking at a trail mix (that same one I ate on my way to the dermatologist, yesterday), and I actually decided that the mix would be better without so much chocolate in it. Like, what the crap?? Who says that? What trail mix ever has too much chocolate? I must be going insane, or maybe, just maybe, Whole30 helped adjust my taste buds and cravings in a slightly healthier fashion. *bless*
Today I sip my hot tea (which is supposed to taste like chocolate- lie) out of a gaudy yellow mug with a smiley face on it. Never, in my life, would I have chosen this mug. Big Strong Man did, however, as he had it sent to be last week, with a knock on the door and an elderly man all smiles and holding the mug, filled with flowers.
I think he dropped 60 buck-a-roos on this surprise.
And I was thankful.
And I was annoyed.
Both.
I knew this was not cheap. I thought the mug was hideous. (It is hideous.) And I would have been so much more excited with something practical (like a Vitamix), as opposed to these flowers which would die.
I kept putting off taking their picture.
Documenting them.
Then I made some guacamole and even Big Strong Man tried some, which further proves he loves me, and we both agreed it would be great with eggs.
Then he made eggs. For himself.
I asked him to make me some.
He began to eat his eggs and I finished blending the guacamole and spooning it into a large bowl.
I looked for my eggs.
I asked him, again, to make me some.
I didn't think it was too much.
But he delayed.
It wasn't that he didn't want to make me eggs, it was that he didn't want to make more eggs at all.
He was hungry and wanted to eat, undisturbed.
I was hungry, too, and annoyed at being the one working and not being fed.
He, as it was, was playing on his phone prior to preparing his eggs.
I felt indignant.
When, finally, he did grab the frying pan and held it over the trash to scrap the disguarded, crispy, leftovers from his eggs to make room for my eggs, I told him to forget it.
I did not want the trashy-residue to make it's way onto the pan I was about to eat eggs from.
He wasn't doing it right and I was annoyed.
Amateur.
Lazy man.
Man-child.
Selfish.
About 30 adjectives ran through my head as I prepared my own eggs and darted angry eyes in his direction.
Annoyed himself, BSM stormed out of the kitchen to return just one minute later. He wanted us to settle this. Settle what? The fact that I was disappointed? That it wasn't just the eggs, but the fact that he didn't hear me when I asked. Or didn't think of me AT ALL. The fact that I was working while he was playing and that didn't annoy him? Shouldn't I, the Lady, be the one sitting, feet freshly pedicured, while my Studly workhorse of a man caters to me?
Shouldn't that be his honor??
Because, let's face it, everyone else has a husband like that.
Trying to forewarn him that I was still upset and needed time to not be mean, he ignored my pleas and insisted we talk. Then and there.
I don't even remember what was said.
We were both upset.
What I do remember is that he left the room again, but not before throwing the ugly yellow mug filled with flowers which had cost us $60 into the huge bowl of delicious guacamole I had just made.
I had been so proud of my guac.
As I cleaned guacamole off the rug, the island, the table and chairs. Off the garbage can, the floor, and the cabinets, too, I realized I never took their photo. The flowers have not a single photo to remember their glory.
We lost about half the flowers in the guac and the other half filled a different mug, but not as lovely and overflowing as they once looked. As they looked moments ago.
A few days later that mug was downsized to a small BALL glass jar- the type for jams and salsa.
A few days later than that, the rest surrendered to death, heads hanging low. $60 worth of a love-offering, and all that remains is this ugly mug I drink hot tea from.
Yeah, Dawn, I think that Kissing 101 is a good idea.
I think that many of us would benefit greatly from starting over.
No comments:
Post a Comment