He Kept The...

I really wanted to get in a weekend post covering the prompts in the Bloggy Moms’ Blog Dare. So, I thought I’d do a weekend recap covering Friday (“He kept the…”), Saturday (“That was the only rational…”), and Sunday (“There’s no hiding it now.”)

I don’t write about my husband, Mark, very often, or at least I don’t usually dedicate an entire post to him. He appears in a supporting role in my stories about E, her ever-faithful friend, father, and valet. This weekend, as usual, he kept the family grounded. It’s hard to describe our relationship. It feels like… that, on any given day, I rotate roles from being the sea, the wind, the sailboat, the waves, the hurricane, the seagull, the homeless man, the mom, the child. He is always the shore. Always.

What does that mean? That means that, on Saturday morning, when I tried to keep everything straight in my head about what I needed to do before leaving the house: dishes, laundry, packing suitcases, E’s nap, shower, time for Mark’s shower, pick up living room, lunch, when to do freelance work, when to blog, when to proofread articles, doctor’s appointments, my parents visiting, wondering where my planner was … I had a meltdown. I stood over my suitcase, all these first-world problems swimming in my head, and I started crying. Shaking, wide-eyed. “Now I have to, um… brush my teeth? Wash my hair? I, um…” That was the only rational thing to do, wash my hair.

Mark came over and put his arm around me. “One thing at a time, okay? Let’s get E down for her nap, then we can focus on packing our suitcases and getting lunch. I’ll get ready now.”

Ok, and life continues as normal… one day, one hour, one minute at a time. My entire day is spent thinking ahead, trying to anticipate what will happen, prevent disaster, plan for celebration. I feel like my life has changed so much.

I told Mark a few weeks ago, “It’s just that – I need you to appreciate that my life has changed, in a drastic way. It’s not a bad thing at all… it’s just an adjustment, a huge adjustment. I used to work all day, come home, eat dinner, watch TV, and go to bed. Now, I get up, make lunches, get E’s stuff ready. I work the morning, pick her up, and I’m responsible for another life for the next 5+ hours… snack time, park time, bath time, dinner time, bed time. You, on the other hand, get up, help her get dressed, and you go on with your life as usual. Not much has changed for you. By the time you get home, E is in bed or almost in bed, and you get to eat dinner, watch TV, and relax in the evenings. I know I’m not always entirely denied that time, but our responsibilities aren’t the same. And it’s not that I want you to feel guilty for not being around… it’s that I want you to appreciate what I do, support me as much as you can, and help as often as you can.”

Yeah, that was a long soliloquy. Mark is not one to change his ways easily. He’s a man of habit, and he’s spent his entire lifetime doing things his own way without much need to change. He eases into change slowly, carefully, methodically.

It drives me f*cking crazy. I jump in head first, cause a huge splash, make a big mess, drag us through the chaos, then work my way backward, fixing things in reverse.

But, this is why he’s my shore – steady, changing slowly, methodically as the waves wash over him.

This weekend, he remembered things I had forgotten to pack, he thought to put gas in the car, he filled E’s sippy cup to take in the car. He thought ahead, he thought like me. He took care of E with the patience of a saint, and gave her all the support and encouragement that I would have given her as she moved through her day.

Every time I found some task finished in the house, some little thing he did for E, like remembering to put her morning milk in the fridge, I smiled. He was trying, and by trying I mean – doing exactly what I needed him to do in the quest for helping me survive this new, incredible life. He was trying to figure me out, anticipate what I needed -- before I had to tell him, when possible.

I know I'm lucky. I know I have more help than other moms, and often more than I deserve. I know he's the best dad for my little girl, letting her be both a tomboy and a little lady, sweetly catering to all her ever-changing needs.

And, there’s no hiding it now – I’m in love, like the first time. E does something sweet, and we smile at each other. We flirt over dinner dishes and laugh while wiping up pee off the floor.

Before we drove off to Mark’s parents’ house on Saturday afternoon, I asked him, teary-eyed, “Do you still love me?” He laughed and said, “I love you so, so, so much. More than ever.”

Huge sigh of relief… “Oh, good! Me too.”