I cut my gym time short tonight so I could come home and write. Then I got here, and I don't know what to write about. There was more sleep last night, more than the last few nights. Then Cora puked on the way out the door this morning. Then G told me a story about how she snuck into my bedroom last night while I was asleep and took my keys and my purse and my glasses and my phone and my necklace and got in the car and drove to the market by herself because she was a very naughty girl. And then she told a story about her "superhero Mom Natalie, and superhero Daddy and superhero sister and superhero puppy". She thinks we're all superheroes. If we're not doing anything else right, I think we're doing this parenting thing pretty okay. The girls are happy and loved and loving...the kids are alright. We're doing just fine.
I feel better when I talk to other women and realize that while I thought they totally had their shit together, they're actually treading water or semi-drowning, just like me. I don't feel better because I want them to have a bit of the same crazy I have - but yes I do. I am so relieved and glad that I'm not the only one. Especially when it's women who look like they really know what they're doing - then you find out they haven't done laundry in 4 months, they just buy new clothes for everyone every few weeks and charge it on the secret store card their husband doesn't know about. I don't actually know anyone in that situation, but if I ever write a book, she may make an appearance.
I'm falling in love with my husband again. I never stopped loving him or being in love with him, but you know, it's hard when you have kids and jobs and dishes and laundry and a dog. Saturday is our fourth wedding anniversary - next month, 10/19, is ten years since the night we "met". We'd been introduced previously, but that Thursday night in October was when we each learned the other's name. I'd had some vague plan in the back of my mind for years that I wanted to do something special to celebrate "us" this year, but, you know, life is hard. That was a ball I dropped.
Jimi, though. Jimi always picks up where I leave off, or begins when I can't.
I dropped the ball when it comes to planning a trip for our anniversary, but I didn't slack or forget to bring my A game. Life is hard, but goddammit, this thing we've got is good, and I'm going to try to show him that I appreciate him. Months ago, I discovered a thing called Battlbox. It seemed like it would be right up his alley - something he would really love, that appeals to the camper/prepper/hunter/protector in him. I waited until I thought I timed the box to arrive just before September 17th, then planned to run the subscription through December if he liked it - you know, for his birthday and Christmas. Because I am lazy and also when I find something I like, I really like it a lot until I don't like it anymore because I've worn it out. Long story short, he fucking loves it, said it's the best gift I've ever given him, and that was just the first box. Awesome!
Because he loved this awesome gift so much, and because he loves me, or because he's just the most amazing man in the history of ever and just can't help being so fucking awesome, for our actual anniversary weekend.....
I don't know. He told me to take off work on Friday and Monday. I don't know the plan beyond that we're dropping the girls off with Mom and Dad at 9 a.m. Saturday morning, and that we'll be in the car for a couple hours, he said.
I can't fucking wait. Even if the few hours in the car part is bullshit and we're just coming back home to sleep and eat and screw in peace and quiet (or not), I'll be thrilled to have the time alone with my sweet husband.
That sweet sweet man. The one who for a decade almost has been my safe place, my comfort zone. The one who has made all of my dreams come true. The best part of my life started when I met him. Ten years in, I am still just aflutter and completely smitten. Moreso, even. It's been ten years worth of amazing. 10/10, would do again.
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Please don't make me cry.