I love my husband. Anyone that knows me knows that I am madly in love with this man and I am not ashamed to admit it. It is hard to verbalize all the reasons why. He certainly is a good father, a wonderful friend and companion, selfless and generous. There has always been something so special about him. I was watching "Undercover Boss" after the Superbowl and was very moved by the words of the wife of Larry O'Donnell, the COO of Waste Management. She basically stated that she always knew her husband was someone special, that he was someone and was going to do great things. And she said it very matter of fact. It was her dogma.
It clicked immediately for me. I knew that this guy, this kid who wasn't that much taller than me but then later grew 6 inches over one summer, the kid that was always around but never said much, the one that seemed to always listen with a sympathetic ear- him. He was someone. He was always such a good friend not only to me, but to everyone. He was genuinely kind. I just knew that he was someone I always wanted to have in my life.
Lest you think I have landed the most perfect specimen of a man, well, ha! Sure, he leaves his dirty socks around. I trip over his size 12 boats, I mean, shoes daily. He sometimes forgets to call to tell me he is going to be late. I have to nag to get him to throw out the trash. He tunes me out. Despite my begging, he refuses to sort the utensils before putting them in the dishwasher. He waits for the garbage truck to enter our cul-de-sac before he puts the can on the curb.
But I will take all those annoying quirks. He sorts the socks. When traveling, I never have to lift a suitcase. He lets me sit in the aisle seat at the hockey games. He always coaches M's teams and never makes me go to a practice. Bunco, dinner with the girls, shopping, movies- he always encourages me to go. He takes me out for sushi even though he doesn't eat it. Sometimes be brings me fast food breakfast because he knows how much I love those darn biscuits. And when I need a hug, he throws his arms around me before I even have to ask. He thinks I am beautiful even though I know I am not. And he does it all because he loves me. How did I get so lucky?
So on this Valentine's Day, I want to tell my favorite person in the world how much I love and cherish him. He makes me a better person and makes me incredibly happy. Marriage is certainly a journey and is not always an easy one. But at the end of the day, who can't love a man that sorts the socks. I hate sorting the socks. And the more I think about it, he does too. But he does it because he loves me.
But don't change a hair for me
Not if you care for me
Stay little Valentine stay
Each day is Valentine's day
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Embracing Fear
That damn Oprah. I enjoy watching her show sometimes. But yesterday was interesting. In a freaky, scary, want to pull the blanket over my head kind of way. She had an open conversation with child molesters. This particular episode was with men (women are coming next week!)and she asked them candid questions about what they have done, how they chose their victims, etc... We are talking scary shit. Really.
The first couple of minutes were brutal. A very creepy old man was describing all the things he did to a five year old girl. He was so matter of fact about it and described everything so clinically, like he was talking about a hernia operation or something. It literally made me sick to my stomach and all I wanted to do was leap through the television and beat tbe crap out of him. He was caught by her mother, who walked into the room as the little girl pulled up her sweat pants and he was moving to a chair. He said it was obvious what was going on and the mother asked the child immediately. Can you imagine? I don't know what I would have done. I mean, I think I know but I hope I never have to find out.
It's funny because one of my favorite people (who happens to be my hair stylist) and I were talking about this the other day. Last week, Oprah talked about that sick feeling in your stomach. You know the one I am talking about. It's that sixth sense we all have, that intuition that something or someone is just not right. Other animals run from their predators, they trust their fear. We typically don't, out of wanting to be polite. We make our kids say hello when they don't want to. We force them to be polite. I know I am guilty of it. "M, the lady said hello to you. Please say hi." "Tell the cashier how old you are." I can't be the only one. Why do we do this?
We need to embrace our fear. Thank God (or whoever/whatever you believe or don't believe in) that we were made to feel this way. It really is a gift. In reading Protecting the Gift by Gavin De Becker, it basically dispelled the stranger danger information that I grew up with. I learned that I have been "doing it wrong". I really recommend that book to everyone. It will at least allow you to be smart about what you teach your children. That person may very well be a family friend, a teacher, a coach, a friend's parent. Look for a Mommy for help. Ever notice a kid lost in a store. Every woman within a 50 foot radius is running towards that kid or at the very least, looking around for a parent.
I will add more to this post when I watch next week's O. She will be interviewing the only woman to live at the Special Commitment Center at McNeil Island in Washington State. It made my stomach hurt to see that woman. But really, knowledge is power. Embrace the fear. Even if it does keep you up at night.
The first couple of minutes were brutal. A very creepy old man was describing all the things he did to a five year old girl. He was so matter of fact about it and described everything so clinically, like he was talking about a hernia operation or something. It literally made me sick to my stomach and all I wanted to do was leap through the television and beat tbe crap out of him. He was caught by her mother, who walked into the room as the little girl pulled up her sweat pants and he was moving to a chair. He said it was obvious what was going on and the mother asked the child immediately. Can you imagine? I don't know what I would have done. I mean, I think I know but I hope I never have to find out.
It's funny because one of my favorite people (who happens to be my hair stylist) and I were talking about this the other day. Last week, Oprah talked about that sick feeling in your stomach. You know the one I am talking about. It's that sixth sense we all have, that intuition that something or someone is just not right. Other animals run from their predators, they trust their fear. We typically don't, out of wanting to be polite. We make our kids say hello when they don't want to. We force them to be polite. I know I am guilty of it. "M, the lady said hello to you. Please say hi." "Tell the cashier how old you are." I can't be the only one. Why do we do this?
We need to embrace our fear. Thank God (or whoever/whatever you believe or don't believe in) that we were made to feel this way. It really is a gift. In reading Protecting the Gift by Gavin De Becker, it basically dispelled the stranger danger information that I grew up with. I learned that I have been "doing it wrong". I really recommend that book to everyone. It will at least allow you to be smart about what you teach your children. That person may very well be a family friend, a teacher, a coach, a friend's parent. Look for a Mommy for help. Ever notice a kid lost in a store. Every woman within a 50 foot radius is running towards that kid or at the very least, looking around for a parent.
I will add more to this post when I watch next week's O. She will be interviewing the only woman to live at the Special Commitment Center at McNeil Island in Washington State. It made my stomach hurt to see that woman. But really, knowledge is power. Embrace the fear. Even if it does keep you up at night.
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