Dear David,
It's not about a Hallmark Card; It's about making our bed every morning so that at least one part of our home is in order as we come and go in all directions.
It's not about roses; It's about letting me drive your brand new car, the one that still has temporary tags, to pick up the guest speaker at the aiport because I failed to get the crack in my windshield fixed, clean up the stain that Johnny's slime left on the passenger's seat, and vaccuum all the dropped cashews, pieces of rice cake, gum wrappers and lollipop sticks.
It's not about jewelry; It's about spending your free time designing a flyer promoting a Literacy Council event because you know the committee needs one and doesn't have money to pay a professional.
It's not about chocolate; It's about cutting your work meeting short so you can pick Grace up on early-release-day, even though I forgot to warn you until that morning.
It's about ironing my clothes for me when I'm in a hurry; agreeing to run out to buy chips for the Valentine's Day party because I forgot; giving the kids a bath when it's really my turn; taking on many more childcare shifts on the weekends while I study; speaking up to let the kids know it is not ok to disrespect me; putting on your best pants and jacket to escort Grace to the annual Father/Daughter Dance; asking me if the food I'm about to put in my mouth is on my diet--but not because you want me to look better in a bathing suit-- because you want me to feel better.
It's about looking forward to that one-on-one date that's so overdue...even if that date ends up being watching Superbad together in our livingroom. It's about knowing that even though we're often like two ships passing in the night, we're on the same team, partners in it for the long haul, with our eyes on the same prize.
I love our chaotic life and I love you.
It's not about a Hallmark Card; It's about making our bed every morning so that at least one part of our home is in order as we come and go in all directions.
It's not about roses; It's about letting me drive your brand new car, the one that still has temporary tags, to pick up the guest speaker at the aiport because I failed to get the crack in my windshield fixed, clean up the stain that Johnny's slime left on the passenger's seat, and vaccuum all the dropped cashews, pieces of rice cake, gum wrappers and lollipop sticks.
It's not about jewelry; It's about spending your free time designing a flyer promoting a Literacy Council event because you know the committee needs one and doesn't have money to pay a professional.
It's not about chocolate; It's about cutting your work meeting short so you can pick Grace up on early-release-day, even though I forgot to warn you until that morning.
It's about ironing my clothes for me when I'm in a hurry; agreeing to run out to buy chips for the Valentine's Day party because I forgot; giving the kids a bath when it's really my turn; taking on many more childcare shifts on the weekends while I study; speaking up to let the kids know it is not ok to disrespect me; putting on your best pants and jacket to escort Grace to the annual Father/Daughter Dance; asking me if the food I'm about to put in my mouth is on my diet--but not because you want me to look better in a bathing suit-- because you want me to feel better.
It's about looking forward to that one-on-one date that's so overdue...even if that date ends up being watching Superbad together in our livingroom. It's about knowing that even though we're often like two ships passing in the night, we're on the same team, partners in it for the long haul, with our eyes on the same prize.
I love our chaotic life and I love you.
1 comment:
Having kids somehow approximates life and that always-with-you-feeling of I want and I don’t want. It’s a joy and nuisance when with, and an agony and peace when without.
You have my personal response to your post and this mini tribute to ambiguity and problems and the simple happy pleasures that I get from living with you and chaos and kids…
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