Facebook Father

My husband is a facebook father.  Doesn't everyone have at least one on their friends list these days?  I did, even before I had a kid.  A guy from college who was a friend of a friend and whom we drank with...he posts more pics of his daughter than anyone I know.   It's cute really, this change some men go through when they become daddies.

Garret is absolutely enthralled with Eleanor.  He can be found gazing at her, quietly asking me, "Isn't she amazing?"  and generally I agree.  Except days like today where he had to come home early because I was threatening to sell her to the circus/drop her off at a hospital/just leave.  She's growing and teething and was screaming with absolutely nothing being an acceptable option to console her, not even my breast (which as a general rule is the best baby shutter-upper I know).  Today I thought, she's a terror.  A 2 month old, holy cow terror. 

Only she isn't.  I caught her on video laughing and smiling.  And turns out that me singing songs like "You Are My Sunshine" was what she wanted to be consoled with.  We have a bond that startles me at times when as much as she loves her doting daddy, nothing but her mama will do.  When all she wants is me to hold her the different way I hold her and me to sing made up songs as I spin her about.  I am apparently the funniest person on earth and blowing a raspberry on her tummy can make her squeal, her father's eyes she inherited twinkling up at me. 

So we're lying in bed, she finally napping a bit, and she's slumped against him.  Since she's usually my little Velcro, I love when she will sleep on him.  And she's slumped down, and she's beautiful, and he gets out his iPhone asking me to take pics. For reals.  Because he's that daddy, the one posting a gazillion photos on facebook.  We post a ton for family to see, but I'm pretty sure he just posts them because he's the proudest man.  And I kind of love him more for it.

Getting Used To This Again

His crinkles deepened in the desert...my heart sighs with gladness.

I still can't believe he's home.  Getting to wake up to him, with him wrapped as tightly around me as possible.  Getting to hear how our daughter spent the morning kicking at him while I slept.  Getting to have coffee in bed with a not-so-competitive game of scrabble.  All these simple little things seem almost like some dream that could change at any moment.

And yet life goes on.  The mundane sneaks it's way in.  Shopping for a deep freezer to hold the yummy pork that is waiting for us at the butcher.  Looking for laundry items.  Grocery shopping.  But instead of being boring and tedious tasks they've become mini adventures where we get to hold hands and sneak kisses at red lights. 

We cook and we laugh and we get used to this dance again as we live this life we've been given.  A billion things to do and each a blessing because we get to do them together. 

Brought To You By The Letter...

G!!!

G is finally home!  He flew in yesterday and it's been absolutely heavenly.  The sky opened up and was pouring right as I reached the airport.  I headed in to wait, and was in the restroom when G called my cell and said he was past customs and looking for me.  I came out squealing, knocked into an officer (apologized), and in heels went weaving my way through the mass of people towards the back of G.  I made it all the way to him without him seeing me, so I wrapped my arms around him from behind, turned him and planted a kiss on him!  (Good thing I had the right guy!)  It was a small scene to say the least, but so worth it.

I wrote this on Sunday, while my nerves were hopping around like jumping beans:

"I feel like I'm in that moment of Sleeping Beauty, where she's lying there and the Prince has come in.  That moment of anticipation.  The pause before he kisses her and awakens her and her world from this dream state they've been forced into.  I wish I could post this.  With my feelings running every which way.  Tomorrow my Prince comes back to me.  And he'll kiss me, and it'll be like he was never gone and it was far too long all wrapped up in one.  These 6 months have been a true learning experience for the both of us.  One that was valuable, and for that reason, it's been worth it.  But I'm done learning.  I'm ready to have him home."

We spent last night having Indian food and then coming home and just letting it sink in.  He's here.  His arms wrapped around me are still this sensation that sends my brain for a loop.  I don't think we're going to be tired of each other for a long, long, time.

He had to do in-processing today until around lunch time, so I'm up, and killing time.  We actually don't have too much time together because I fly out tomorrow to head back to the midwest for a baby shower this weekend!  (It's a whirlwind, I know.)  Then I'll be back home to him and we'll be enjoying 2 weeks of vacation time.  So, if this week is a little light on posts, please forgive... I'll be busy smoochin'!

Man, I Feel Like A Woman

I tend to feel like I took a gamble with G, and won the jackpot.  Not always.  I mean, damn these last couple years have definitely had their rough moments (understatement of the century).  But overall, I chose to marry my best friend and I don't regret that decision.

Which all sounds so deep, amusingly enough.  Because the topic of conversation today is about how I got lucky and married a man who truly tends to encourage me to spend money on beauty/fashion/etc.  I'm a bit of a tighter fist with money which greatly conflicts with my love of being a woman.  I say, "honey I want to spend money to buy this curling iron" and he doesn't even blink.  I describe a make-up palette and why I'm considering it and he says, "I think you should get it."  I married a man who compliments the way I tend to either look natural, or sexy, but not over the top, and who loves that I'm so womanly.

And on the other side of that coin is I married a boy who has turned into a man.  Mmm.  He knows what he likes, he's unapologetic about liking to look good, and he appreciates manly things.  No, we're not talking football (of which he's not really a fan), but things like a glass of scotch, the scent of a good cigar, a straight edge shave, and a three piece suit.  Old school man.

We haven't always been this way, and in fact, we've sort of naturally gravitated towards those opposites as we grew up together.  But it works.  He holds the door and walks on the outside of the sidewalk.  I don't try and hide the fact that I tend to have swaying hips as I walk and a flirtatious personality.  We're sometimes like a real life version of some old black and white film.  We have a delicious chemistry.

So I keep it in mind when he slowly asks me not to dye my hair blonde (something I'm always threatening to do).  I'm headed to the salon this afternoon to have them work their magic on my silver threads (a.k.a. my grandmother's contribution to my looks), and plan to go dark for the fall.  Then it will be home to pamper myself a bit, and relax (the stupid grand prix is here this weekend flying through the streets of our city, so I'm staying in).  I'll try and update with pics later if it looks like a dramatic change!

Life is good, and I'm enjoying a slow weekend before a packed week next week.  Glucose tests, coffee dates with friends, and a party... oh my!

Some moments I'm made well aware that I am indeed the luckiest girl in the world.  I was reading G a blog post that is going up tomorrow, and he and I were discussing it, and he said, "Yeah, I was planning on talking to you about that."  We were discussing shoes.  Why my husband was going to have to talk to me about shoes may surprise you.

I had recently told him that I didn't need an expensive pair of black pumps, that the money could best be used elsewhere.  And at the time he didn't really say anything.  I took it as a sigh of relief from him when it fact our conversation went something like this:

G: "When you mentioned giving up nice shoes I was trying to think how to gently approach this.  I felt like I was losing Kate."

Moi: (laughing) "Because I didn't want expensive shoes?"

G: "No, the shoes are just a symbol.  I didn't want to have you lose yourself."

Ahhh.  True love, my friends, true love.  He at one point in the conversation said he was glad I was back from being "zombie-Kate." 

*But can I just say I'm pretty sure he saw those nice Italian leather shoes we talk about getting him going up in smoke too?  :)

Father's Day

So, I married a man who more and more reminds me of my father.  They have similar temperaments.  They both have super comfy laps.  And they both amuse me to no end.  I really don't mind, because I always felt like I had the best dad, and I've noticed that the qualities that made me feel so lucky are ones my husband also has.

G is patient.  I can't see him getting annoyed with the noise of children, or even the occasional messes.  In fact, if anything, he'll be right there in the middle of the noise and the mess!  He's been dreaming for a long time of a child to read to, so that box is checked off.  He's proved to be quite good with amusing babies and toddlers (thanks to fun times with the niece), so I'm not really concerned with leaving him alone with a baby, though he hasn't much experience.  He's playful and kind and loving, qualities I admire in my father as well.

He's also stern when need be.  He'll definitely be that "Just wait til I tell your father about this." sort.  But he's fair and not quick to temper, so the punishments will fit the crime.  And the best quality of all is his determination to do this right, to be a great father, the kind a son wants to follow in the footsteps of, and the kind a daughter uses as a measure for the men in her life.

Most men I've known aren't quite as excited as the women about a baby.  G is.  In fact, he's sort of enthralled with this whole thing.  We laugh as I show him the ducky hooded towel I bought... while displaying it on my head.  We discuss how he's going to have plenty of making up to do once he's home so that this child knows his voice as well as mine.  And quite frankly I've never known a man so excited at the idea of be active in the birth.  Before his 28th birthday I get to give him the one thing he's been wanting for a long while.  Today is his first father's day, but in no time at all I get to make him a Daddy.  And I can't imagine anyone better suited for this job.

Happy Father's Day, Love.  I am a lucky girl indeed to have you playing that role.

He Carries My Heart

I began my birthday being sung to by my husband.  Then I was able to drift off to sleep.  I awoke later and after getting all pretty, I got a skype call from G.  I settled in, ready to chat with him a bit when suddenly the screen changed and I could see him!  (for those who might be newer, my husband had an iPad, which doesn't have a camera nor can it have one attached.)  Long story short, he's now the owner of a computer with a cam, and has been patiently waiting for my birthday to show me himself.  He's not usually good at secrets, so I was shocked and teared up a bit.  It was so, so good to see his face. 

We had such a good talk because he could see me react, and I could see him.  I made him get really close so I could see his eye crinkles.  He would get close, puckered up for kisses.  And he got to be on the phone while I opened the kindle he got me for my birthday.   

My grandmama's vintage hat, new sunglasses, and Russian Red lipstick.  And before anyone thinks anything....I had on a strapless dress!

For my birthday my girlfriends took me out for Chinese.  I awoke this morning and texted them that I felt old and eccentric and would be wearing a dress and a hat.  So they too dressed up, and off we went.  The food was good, the company great, and the lovely guys there brought me out a big bowl of ice cream with a candle in it and they all sang to me.  I must say the only bad part of my day was discovering that the baby still is not a fan of Chinese.

Now I'm waiting to speak to G again.  I woke him up (he slept later than normal), and made him get on camera.  My eyes welled up, because that is my husband....all squinty and face scrunched up in the mornings.  He's growing his hair out, so it stuck up a little funny, and he's growing a beard so he had a shadow.  I miss waking up next to him, so this was my way of getting what I miss most as my own little gift. 

For being on my own in this big city I sure did have an amazing birthday.  And a big part of that was G.  Like I told him today, we're lucky because we both wake up each day feeling like we won the world's greatest lottery because of one another.  And that makes any day (birthday or unbirthday) very perfect indeed.

Fate

I may be going by myself to see a film this week.  I've watched previews about The Adjustment Bureau with Matt Damon and Emily Blunt.  The film looks interesting, and poses questions about how much control you have over your own life.  Damon's character is a politician running for senate who happens into meeting Blunt's character on the night he loses a big election.  That was supposed to be their only time together, and yet they run into each other later, and then again, and again causing a ruckus for the adjustment bureau.

I fully believe in free will, the ability to choose your own fate.  But I also believe that some things were pre-destined.  Those two are not opposites.  In my opinion, something can be pre-destined and you can walk away from it over and over again....that's the free will part.

In the film Damon's character asks, "Why won't they let me be with Elise?" And one of the adjustment bureau men says, "Because she's enough.  If you have her you won't need to fill that void inside of you with applause and votes."

The reason it causes me to pause is that G and I have always felt like we were thrown together time and again for a reason.  I grew up in Kansas City, and there is a park I played at often.  G's mother also took him there to play, though they lived a half hour away.  We're both positive that at some point we would have had to have been there at the same time.  And then in 8th grade G fell in love with me as I walked into the history class for the first time....I don't remember him.  In 9th grade he was in my English class...but he doesn't remember me.  We got thrown together for prom.  We became best friends.  We slowly lost touch.  We found each other again.

I told him today that I wonder if I had been stubborn and refused to change my opinion about dating him if we would have ended up married to others only to have them fall apart and get thrown back together again.  He said he knew exactly what I meant.  Together we are the best version of ourselves.  I have never been a better me than with him, and he feels the same.  We each believe in the other, push the other to go past where we're comfortable and safe into a place where we can do better.  So is it fate?  Free will?  Happenstance?

We have a belief in this house that we've loved each other long before we knew each other, that it took finding one another to become the people we are meant to become.  And I can tell you that had some bureau tried to get in our way rather than helping, I would have fought them with every cell of my being.  I choose him over anyone.  Every time. 

Not A Day Of Rest

It's Sunday.  I missed Mass.  I slept in after being on the computer with G until nearly 3:30 a.m. (my time).  And then I woke up and quickly was talking to him because it was the end of his day.  I got a text from a friend, ended up at Goodwill, where I picked up more vintage milk glass mixing bowls (let's just say I already have this exact set, but love them, so they're a welcome addition....I'm trying to wean out the ones I don't love), a little girl's silver brush (it looks like my grown up version, only tiny), and a Wedgewood ornament that is a British guard at a gate.  And then we headed to coffee* and chatted for a bit about life, our religious/political views, and decorating.  It was relaxing, I enjoy her company, and it's been an easy friendship so far. 

And then I drove home.  I have to say this:  I miss my husband enormously.  He is my rock.  As much as he sorta worships the ground I walk on, he is the solid ground that keeps me from falling apart.  We were up late last night discussing a few topics that were weighing on me.  And I thank God for Skype, because having my husband to talk to when I need to has been amazing. 

But the reality is, I'm a worrier, and I'm having a hard time letting go of worrying about upsetting people.  I've prayed a lot about it, about where the line between being honest and biting one's tongue.  Often when I do talk to them, I'm physically shaking.  I've spent the last few years learning to express my opinions in as thoughtful a way as possible, learning to chic-ly bite my tongue when I need to.

And last night my husband, my phenomenal husband who is learning to lead me gently, says, "Will you saying anything change the situation?"  I thanked him, because he's right.  Usually when I say something, no matter to whom, it doesn't change their mind.  Most people, myself included, have a hard time hearing that they might be wrong or that there is another option.  And then we discussed how changing the opinion doesn't matter, but it was something I felt like my options were either say something and then let it go, or not say something but cut my ties for a while.  Because I am not a person who can pretend I'm not thinking something, my face shows it, my voice changes, and I have to pull away from relationships to hide that until I no longer care. 

I'm at difficult points in my life.  I've chosen my life, and I love it for the most part.  And I am slowly learning to defend it, and to speak up when I feel the need.  But I miss having my husband to vent to when I can't think straight.  There are basically 2 people in this whole world who really know most of my opinions who I completely trust, and one is in Iraq, and the other was working late at her lab last night (she does some sort of chemistry thing).  It's teaching me a self-reliance that is good, but it sure is not restful!

*Yes, I gave up going out for coffee for Lent, with the reasoning being that it cost quite a bit and was a time waster I used when I didn't want to deal with cleaning/organizing the house.  I spoke to my husband about it and we both agreed that since I already had gift cards to coffee, as long as I was using it as a time to connect with new friends (therefore making a home here in this city), and not simply to avoid responsibilities, then it was okay, because my intentions were right.

Tuesday Thoughts

Late last night as I lay in a hot bath, soaking up the scent of lavender (I have bath salts that have the oil and the petals in it), surrounded by candles, my husband called.  Now, I have made a hot bath an every few days thing lately, but he always calls right after I get out!  He was excited that I was able to turn on web cam so he could see me while we chatted.  There was nothing sexual about it, but it was sexy.  He said I looked stunning in the light and that he missed me a lot.  The feeling is mutual.  I am not lonely, because I keep busy and enjoy my own company.  But I do miss having my best friend around.

And while talking about his day ahead (they're now 7 hours ahead of us now that we've sprung forward an hour), and discussing the mundane day I had had, we got into a discussion about a discussion I had Sunday night about marriage.  Namely, that it's the hardest thing.  A friend was asked if raising a child was harder or if marriage was and both she and her husband agreed marriage was.  Not because raising a child is a piece of cake, but there are biological things that keep you going with that.  Marriage takes work, takes loving one another enough to put the effort in.

My take on it was this:  if this is the person you love the most there are two things that are true.   First, they will be able to hurt you more than anyone else.  And second, you will hurt them more than you thought possible.  It is because there is a safety in love, and though we should treat this person better than anyone, sometimes we are careless with our words and actions, sometimes we are angry and don't bite our tongue quickly enough.  I feel extremely blessed that my husband is my best friend and that even on our worst of days we usually have moments that are amazing, simply being together.  But I can admit that he has the ability to hurt me worse and more quickly than anyone I've ever known.  And that I have said things to him that I know I'll have to answer for to God someday, things I never would have thought I could so venomously say.  We have each had to cry out and ask for forgiveness.  We have had to pick ourselves up and forgive and move on with life.  Long haul marriage is not for weak people, that's for sure.

We are both learning an appreciation for one another we had never had before.  I am starting to see how much work even the little things he did can be.  Particularly when I think he was dealing with them before work while I was asleep!  Acts of love, that perhaps I took for granted (okay, I totally did).  For him, he says he's seeing how much even my cooking he took for granted.  I do it all the time, and while he's always appreciative, he sees now that it sucks to not have that.  He's thanked me for teaching him about foods, saying he's healthier than most guys there are because he knows to pack in the veggies and get as much fruit as possible, and to not eat questionable things.  He envied our pizza from Sunday, and when asked if they had any there he said yes....but that it looked disgusting.  Most don't know that my husband used to not only not eat well, but make horrible food choices.  A few years ago he would have been at that pizza bar frequently, whereas now he avoids it.  I also am the one who keeps him up to date on what needs to be done, what's been done, etc.  Over there he's having to rely on making lists himself.  I'm hoping that 6 months of that and he'll have it down!

I think him being away is a profound turning point in our marriage.  We're each learning to appreciate the other in a whole different way, and to find happiness on our own.  We've both relied on the other too much in the past, and though we're learning what a gift the other person's presence is, we're seeing how nice it is to socialize more.  I would compare us to twins who speak their own language and don't like to play with others.  We've enjoyed the company of each other so much that at times we have isolated ourselves and then drove each other crazy.  I'm looking forward eagerly to September to see how we put our changes into action.  Because it will be work.  Just because we now see what the other has done with more appreciation doesn't mean we'll instantly be right as rain and show our appreciation better.  But I'm hopeful that we'll be so happy to be together again that we'll cut each other a little slack as we learn a new dance. 

And oh, how I miss our dancing in the kitchen in the dark....but that's another topic all together.

So Lucky

I have to admit that lately I've been feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.  G and I have been "dating."  What this has meant for us is that neither of us has been wearing our rings (though we've each worn them out to a few social occasions to keep from being grilled) and are acting like silly fools in love again.  You see, we never really "dated."  He came home from tech school, we spent a couple weeks together, then he proposed and flew out the next day to England.  I saw him for a long weekend that Christmas, he came home in May, and we got married 4 days later.  We were both sure we were doing the right thing, but looking back we both sometimes feel like we didn't do it the right way.  I've felt like we missed something from that time we could have dated, and G feels like he's lost when it comes to planning dates because he's never really had to.  But we've been working on that. 

We've been doing a ton of coffee dates, as well as actual dinner dates.  G's brought me flowers and hair pins (I had looked for them days before and he kept checking to surprise me with them).  He's been paying more attention to things I say and I've been biting my tongue and watching my words more.

And he's been cooking more!  The best part about this is that he's told me that he appreciates my cooking more.  I laughed and said, "It's not as easy as I make it look?"  He smiled and said, "No, not quite."  For soup the other night he roasted the chicken (his usual job) but then also picked all the meat off and after I broke the bones he made the stock.  He watched me make the noodles so that he can do it next time.  And he's been making his signature pasta dish (with broccoli, pesto, paper thin potatoes and chicken).  In fact, he downstairs doing that right now.

I lay curled up with him last night and I told him that this month is going to be amazing but that when it gets back it's going to be even better.  Clean slates.  We both agreed that after experiencing this relative peace and love lately that the last few years feel like such a waste.  Like we wasted precious time.  No more.  We're going to really start trying to do this right.  I can't wait to be like newlyweds again when he comes home to me! 

That's months off, so tonight I'm just enjoying that G is in charge of dinner.  Now it's my turn to wonder, who is going to make this dish once he's gone?  I've never been around him when he makes it!

4 a.m.

I'm a late night owl lately, eh?  The reality is time has been good to me.  I came home from the conference refreshed, ready to give it the old college try and be a better wife.  I won't say there haven't been arguments, we're still working out the kinks.  But the one thing that hit me at the conference even more than the infertility issues, and continues to hit me anytime I falter is how blessed I am to have G.  How much this man is trying to step outside his comfort zone and just love me in ways he didn't know how.  And in return I'm letting go, I'm falling in love with him all over again.  His stupid exaggerated stories that I know he'll some day tell our children as if he really did get lost in the woods and nearly starve to death before coming across civilization.  The way he bats his eyelashes at me and gives me the puppy look.  The way he's becoming a man and becoming comfortable in his own skin.  

I stopped expecting flowers, because the boy is a mess sometimes and will second guess himself into insanity.  Instead we went to the florist and I picked out 15 burgundy carnations that are gorgeous and make me happy and I don't care that he didn't pick them up for me.  I'm meeting him halfway, accepting there are simply some things he might not ever get good at (but I'm keeping my fingers crossed as his confidence grows).  

It's 4:40 and I am just filled with love.  We've spent the last 2 weeks learning to just express our love better.  More make-out sessions in the kitchen, more late night talks in the dark, more of what we had once so long ago neither of us can remember without it being hazy.  And he's asleep and I get to curl up around him and hold him like he always holds me and listen to him breathing.  Like he breathes the life into me.  And it's beautiful and it's scary because what on earth am I gonna do for 6 months by myself?  Start talking to the puppies?  

Okay, I do that already.

But whatever, cause time is good, and he's here and I'm here and we're following my mantra of "I only have today" (G's been repeating it like Rain Man).  My cup may be cracked and has been reglued a time or two, but believe me when I say it runneth over. 

Impressed

G has slowly but surely been making his way through the Rosetta Stone program.  We have the entire set (all 5 levels) so that eventually he and I will both be completely fluent.  But I've been skeptical.  Sometimes weeks will go by without him finding the time for it, though lately he's been trying to use it daily, and he's getting ready to complete the first level.  So we were lying in bed the other evening, me reading Entre Nous because I can hardly listen to him speak French without reading about them as well!  And if we're being honest, he hocks on the words more than a comedian doing a French accent.  His accent is a little harsh, but I figure it will get better as he gets a better grasp on the language (and if not, perhaps we'll meet up with the French group here and he can catch on from them).  So his studying tends to be interrupted occasionally by me correcting him because if he says it incorrectly for the 15th time I might have an aneurysm.  But the other night I looked over because he was in the spelling section where he was typing.  And damn if he wasn't typing words that I didn't even really know.  (well, I knew what they meant by guessing, but they were different variants of words I knew.)

So I'm impressed.  He's been taking his own sweet time, going back to lessons he didn't do so hot on until he does.  And suddenly I'm thinking our dream of a bilingual household may be possible. 

My Rock, My Home

"I will never be a stranger.  I will never be alone.  Cause deep inside of me I know that wherever you are, is home."  -- Dave Barnes, Home

This is to G.  My rock.  The man who I am excited to watch grow from the boy I first knew into a man I am proud to be married to.  Slowly.  Baby steps.  But he's reaching and finding his ground.  We spent our quiet moments together this last weekend just being.  We spoke little, cherished many moments.  A stolen kiss in the kitchen.  A whispered conversation in the dark.  Dreams of the future and the here and now.  

And suddenly my heart feels different.  Suddenly I feel all grown up.  He's far from perfect and I'm far from a picnic to live with.  But here we are.  And I have never felt happier or more at peace.  Suddenly God's whispers to my heart make sense and I realize that the home I always wanted I've found in him, through Him.  And for the first time it's more than just words.  I'm home.  

I love you Bunny.  To Vega and back. 

Midnight Coffee

It's midnight.  I've chopped up a watermelon for tomorrow, made G a sandwich (roasted chicken, smoked horseradish cheddar, romaine and mayo on french bread), put together his lunch for tomorrow (the sandwich, watermelon, and a cup of soup with bacon), and am now drinking coffee at midnight.  I like it like that.  

Things I have on my mind right now:

* My parents are coming in just a few days.  Must make my home welcoming.

* I really need to find some workout classes I like.  All the running did was add muscle to my legs that are not so friendly with my jeans.

* I am on the search for a place with knitting/crochet classes.  I love afghans and would like to make some for winter.  

* My novel's storyboard is partially done.  Too bad there's all that lovely dialogue and plot points I now have to actually write.  Eh, that's what coffee is for!

* And last but not least my husband is currently washing his hair because I cut out a slice of watermelon, completely leaving a circle and what do you do at 11:30 at night?  You make your husband pose with it on his head like a crown.  Oh yes, yes you do!  With photo evidence!

"I am the watermelon king!"

He's come in and seen what I am up to, so I'm off! 

The Surprise

These are the gorgeous hydrangeas G surprised me with this weekend.  Love them, and hopefully they will last a while! (There are 3 huge flower clusters, but for the life of me I couldn't get a shot of all 3, one was always hiding!)

My Husband and Conversations With Little Old Ladies

So we went and picked up our CSA this morning.  In the pouring rain.  And let me pause here and tell you that the one thing that freaks me out more than anything else is getting my feet wet in rain water.  It's dirty and it grosses me out and I freak out more than a little bit.  So off we went under one umbrella and we picked up a whole bunch of goodies, including what I needed to make ratatouille for the first time (and oh how I wish the rats around here would help explain how to make this dish well).  

But we didn't bring money, well no more than $5.  So of course the butter I was wanting to try was $5.50.  Of course.  So we came back home and I told G, "Please go get money and get some butter and mozzarella cheese for me."  This was said knowing that there was no way in hell I was going back out in those puddles.  I smiled nicely, and G who desperately wanted this fresh local mozzarella cheese agreed heartily.

My husband is an older person magnet.  My grandmama thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread, and so do all her friends.  He's the sweetest gentleman with them and they are always all a twittering.  So of course walking back with his butter and cheese to the car (a couple blocks away) he is stopped by a little old lady who tells him "that butter is soooo worth it.  I bought some unsalted and I took it home and put it on my corn on the cob and it was wonderful.  Of course I put salt and pepper, but there wasn't any extra salt in the butter."  This conversation continued.  And on.  

Then when he was off and walking again a woman sweeping her porch accidentally hit some furniture and it startled G and he looked up.  So the woman smiled real big and waved.  I am certain had he been on the same level as her it would have prompted a conversation.  

I don't type any of this to complain.  G and I actually love older people, and have been known to stop in the middle of a store to discuss heirloom vegetables in an array of colors for 20 minutes or so with someone.  We can admit we sometimes run behind schedule because we love old people, particularly those with that spark, that happy smile that calms one when thinking about growing older.  We indulge.  But shouldn't we?  Isn't that our duty as the youth, to indulge those who have gone before us?  And really, you get the best tips on vegetables!

Things I Learned This Evening

That mussels with bread and wine is enough to make me giggly.  I have been craving mussels so badly lately but had been afraid to try them here in the U.S.  I guess I thought the Americans would undercook them and kill me.  Eh.

That Trader Joe taffy really does make the world go round but is a choking hazzard.

That one should not have taffy in one's mouth when opening the car door to find one's husband had sneaked and bought flowers while you were preoccupied and placed them on your seat.

That as smart as I am my first thought was, "Who put flowers in our car?"

That when admitting to this line of thought my husband first was wondering if I had a stalker I hadn't mentioned.  I do, but I won't mention it now!

And finally that there is nothing like champagne and blueberries to end a simple, wonderful evening.

Marriage Monday

I just wanted to share something.  Yes, G is the one who is having to do the most work on our marriage.  It doesn't mean he's a bad guy, he simply has the most growth to do in the relationship (and the counselor equates it to issues he has period, such as the fear of failure).  However, let me clear up that I have had to work on myself as well.  And it's been lovely.  That's not sarcasm, it really has been.  Our home is calmer, because though I do on occasion snap (I have a supreme lack of patience and when I say I need something I mean I wanted it 3 minutes ago before I'd even thought of it), instead of simply feeling guilty, I apologize quickly.  Sometimes it takes a minute or two to deal with whatever caused me to snap, but within about 5 minutes I've apologized.  It has freed me from guilt, and it has let G know that I do realize when I've snapped unnecessarily. 

I've also been a happier wife because G has been making effort.  And in response, I have made more effort.  Instead of vegging out in front of the t.v. last night I made pancakes for us to heat up this week for breakfasts.  I mixed up some chocolate chip oatmeal cookies (from a jar mix my parents church gave us last time we visited) and stayed up to make them.  G loves oatmeal cookies and I thought it would be a nice, simple treat for him this week.  I've been more complimentary to G and made sure to put down something to listen to him when he wants to chat.  On the other side, he's began to try and pay attention to when I'm in the middle of something (like typing, where if I lose my train of thought I get a bit pissy), and wait until I've stopped.  It's been give and take.

And something that I have always needed to do but been reluctant to do is ask G to help out.  When I'm cooking he generally is helping clean up as I go.  But sometimes, like last night, there isn't much to do (I was using the bowl with the dough and that was it.  But the dishwasher needed to be unloaded so I could reload, and I asked him to get up and do that while I baked.  He's happy to help.  Often I try and take it all on, and just have him sit and chat with me, but I need to learn to ask for help.  

So, to reiterate, yes, G has been doing a lot of work.  But because he's made effort, I've begun making effort in my reactions.  Overall this week especially has been so nice we're kind of shocked.  And it's been motivation for him to keep it up.  Which is why this morning I woke up to a cute little poem next to my water glass that ended in something about beer.  Yes, he's making effort, but he's still a man!

Momentous

Our homework from the counselor was surprising.  He challenged G to do something specific that is a "risk" to G's fear of failure.  I would love to tell you what it is, it's exciting and terrifying all at once, but since we're doing it tomorrow I figure you can wait, right?  And yes, I've had some sparkling wine and am grinning from ear to ear, we're in for a wild ride!