Skip to main content

You might think this list is for my husband

But it really isn't. Not completely.

There are times when I am suddenly inexplicably mad, with anger welling up and pushing out my ears. I don't know why. I'm sorry.

I don't feel grateful for things you do when you rub it in my face.

Similarly, when you roll your eyes right before you do me a favor, it's not a favor anymore.

I know that my voice gets really annoying and high pitched when I'm irritated. It bothers me too.

Every now and then, I just need some space. It's not you. It's me.

Sometimes I just want to go to the bathroom by myself.

Or take a shower. You know, alone.

There are days when I just want to hold you close. And there are days when I wish you'd go away. I don't expect you to know the difference. At least not every time.

Also, yes, I do think you are a mind reader.

I've thought about it. So have you. That's the definition of normal - when everyone does/says/thinks the dumb thing.

I know I'm not always fun to be around.

Why can't you just pick that up?

No, I don't know why I can't either.

There might be a loud noise upon decompression.

I hope you love me anyways.

Comments

Anonymous said…
A couple of thoughts:

1. I have to remind you (agian) - it's about me, not you. me, me, me, me, me :)

2. You know what I meant, it is not my fault that you don't understand the incoherant and incomplete thought I meant to say.

3. No question we all need some me space. At the same time, never forget that the opposite situation (i.e. all me time) is not nearly as easy to escape...
Sarah said…
1,2 - {nod}

3 - Just come live with me :)
Heather said…
This list could transfer to my blog just as easily... but where would we be without these crazy men?

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life.

People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forward.  Knowledge, safety, money, a sturdy …

On being away from home and turning sixteen: a letter to my son

Dear Josh,

I missed your sixteenth birthday.  I'm sure you recall - or maybe it wasn't so bad because you spent the whole day with your friend watching movies.  Godzilla and Guardians of the Galaxy, you've said.  It's no surprise to me that Godzilla was your favorite of the two.  That atomic green monster holds a special place in your heart.

It was very difficult for me to be away from you when you crossed this threshold in your life.  I remember turning sixteen, being sixteen, and wondering when I would feel like I was actually sixteen.  When I was sixteen, I went and found my first job, I started driving myself around, and I pretty much felt like I was in the wrong skin.  I'm only now, at 37, beginning to feel in the right skin.  Or at least comfortable with the skin I'm in.  But you - well, you don't seem to have a problem being you.  I can't explain how very happy that makes me feel, how very reassured.  Because it can be really hard not to like you…

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

You know when you see someone again and it's been, like, forever, and you're not really even sure that you're getting their name right and you wonder WHAT on EARTH they've done to their hair/face/body/children and you can't quite find the right words to fill the gap between time and space?
My second year of teaching is just beginning - and isn't that a wonder?  Last year...let's just say, we all survived.  Last year involved:
- Commuting home (2 hours, one way) almost every weekend - The kids and I here (in Espanola, where I teach) while Eric stayed in Edgewood - Putting our (still for sale) house on the market - Two semesters of Master's classes (what was I thinking??? on the up side, I only have 1 semester left and I am DONE.  D. O. N. E.) - Saturday's spent in professional development - My first ever "work trip" to San Diego 
And this year:
- Josh is a Senior (whuuuut!) - Carly started 5th grade - We all live here in Espanola (double WH…