Skip to main content

A Time of Thanks

The president of my fan club-my mother- told me that the other members of the fan club- her coworkers whom she forces to read this blog-said my musings are on the mean side. I'm sorry to hear this and sorry to let the fans down when I inform them that I will continue to offer the same sarcastic humor every week, centered on the shortcomings of the man I live with.
Don't tell anybody, but when no one is looking, I am sometimes nice to Andy. I may even hold his hand or rub his back when the curtains are closed or it's really dark outside.
Since it's Thanksgiving this week, I thought I'd take the time to tell you about this softer side and share just how lucky I am.
Andy is really smart; almost as smart as me! He's a wonderful writer, has great ideas and I'm really proud of his professional accomplishments. Whenever I meet someone, they ask me if I am married to Andrew.
He is also really cute; lucky me. My mom started the idea that he looks like Ben Affleck and we've heard it from complete strangers, including an old man at the local diner who yelled it to him as we were leaving.
He has made me a better person. I care more about other people and think less about myself. I now share my stuff and give good tips.
He never, ever makes comments about the attractiveness of other women and their body parts. He likes my body more now than before I had Caroline. Seriously.
He does all the dirty work around the house like changing the litter pans and plunging the toilets, which I refuse to do. I'll talk about his machine-like ability to accomplish things in another installment.
He's a great dad and I love to hear the daycare ladies talk about how his eyes light up when he sees her across the room at pick-up time. Or when he described, to a room full of my college friends, the "ins and outs" of cleaning a little girl after a poop.
But, best of all, I often forget that I haven't known him my entire life. He knows me inside in out and accepts me for my faults and strengths.
I have dreams that somehow we are not together and I spend the rest of the dream frantically trying to find him and tell him how much I love him. I wake up and reach over to touch his shoulder and make sure that he's still right there beside me.
There- are you happy? I may be my mother's daugher, loaded with caustic humor and venemous wit directed toward the opposite sex, but underneath that exterior is an amazingly happy wife who is very thankful for what she has. Now, go home and tell your dumb husband you love him.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Choose Happiness

I was shopping at Claire’s Boutique last weekend with the kids. Claire’s Boutique is like the At Home for children. My kids love spending at least an hour in the store, browsing all of the glittery, sparkly plastic items made in China. They get excited about the buy three get three free offers and the six dollar grab bag with surprise items in it. They wander, basket in hand, looking at every item from top to bottom, reviewing each display, sometimes many times, to make sure that they don’t miss seeing anything.I have a tolerance for Claire’s for about 20 minutes, depending on how many other people are crowded into the tiny, very cluttered store. I can't lie, every once in a while something actually catches my eye for myself, like a cute pair of plastic rhinestone earrings or a purse shaped like a pug head. During this last shopping trip, while the girls were deciding between fake hair ponytail attachments or Beanie Boo dolls, I saw a display marketed to the preteen set. Paired to…

When The Team Won't Follow the Leader

I am aware that there are some critics out there who think that Andy and I are kind of loosey-goosey parents. Some think we don’t have enough rules or enough structure or discipline in our family. I’ve always felt really bad about this because, from one perspective, I can sort of see what they are talking about. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty about being a shitty parent. My thoughts before passing out each night, exhausted, are about how I could’ve done a better job today and that I really hope I can do a better job the next day. Tomorrow is a new day to make rules and implement them, right?But I finally figured out what the missing link is for me and Andy and why we just can’t be the structured, rigid, disciplinarians that we “aspire“ to be. The other day I was picking up the kids. When we were driving home, my mind was racing with about 50 different things I needed to do at home and at work. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really present in the moment with the kids even though…

Me V. Parental Judgement

When you are pregnant, there’s so much to think about when considering the future: what color to paint the nursery, what decorating scheme to select from Pottery Barn, whether to go with disposable or reusable diapers, what to name your little nugget, and even deciding to use a cake or a box of balloons for the gender reveal party. You quickly learn that, if you share any of these decisions with anyone, you are bound to get opinions- lots of them. And, while this isn’t the first time we get solicited or unsolicited advice (where to go to college, what to choose as a major, what profession to pursue, who to date, who to marry, what dress to wear to the wedding, who to invite to the wedding, what type of alcohol to serve at the wedding..) the birth of a child seems like the first time that SO MANY opinions are given. It’s already a time of anxiety and unknowns that the opinions of others can easily feel overwhelming.What, I should have gotten the rocker that swings from side to side ins…