If you are old enough you probably remember the days of AOL and those words we all waited, breathless, to hear. "You've got mail." Of course, this was back before most correspondence was done via email and it was all still very new and exciting. Mention this to any teen and he will look at you as if you're legitimately crazy. After all, why wouldn't you have email? These days, the same breathless excitement fills our chest as we pore over our faceook pages. Looking, of course, to see who and how many "liked" our latest status update or comment. It's as if we believe that someone "liking" our status means that they like us. But reading someones status gives us even less insight into who she is than reading a blog. Writing this blog, one of my hopes is that I will be able to communicate, to some small degree at least, who I really am. Of course, I do hope you'll like me. No need to tell me if you don't!
Getting to know me means getting to know my family. If I was stranded on a deserted island there aren't three other people I would rather be with! Of course, Jeff and I would probably waste time joking about whose fault it was that the boat crashed, while Q bemoaned the lack of any art supplies and Z began happily deciding how to hurt herself first. But we would be together. And the first thing to know about me is that I find the most happiness in the moments I spend with each of these people - the hectic moments, the joyful moments, the angry moments and the (rare) quiet moments that weave all the others together. They are both the ship I sail in and its' anchor, the storm and the shelter from it. So, let me introduce you to my favorite people and, in getting to know them, you'll learn a little bit about me along the way.
My husband, Jeff, is by far the kindest, most honest, compassionate and selfless person I have ever met. I know, you're rolling your eyes right now, thinking, "Well, of course she thinks so!" Well, I do, but keep in mind that living with a saint isn't always easy. Take, for example, his penchant for truthful answers in every situation. While admirable, it does lead to conversations like one we had about 12 years ago:
Me: "Honey, I got my haircut! What do you think?"
Jeff: "Ummm...I'll get used to it."
Now, we have both learned a lot in the years of marriage since then. Me, not to ask questions I don't necessarily want completely honest answers to and, him, that not every question has to be answered at all. Here is how today's version of that same conversation might play out:
Me: "Honey, I got my haircut! It looks great!"
Jeff: "That's wonderful, I'm glad you're happy with it!"
Z & Q: "Mommy, what happened to your hair?"
Which brings me to the real reason I married him. Not because he is so wonderful, although that is true. But because he makes me want to be a better person. He makes me want to be more kind, honest, selfless and compassionate. He brings out the best in me and loves me despite the worst.
About five years after I married this paragon of virtue, we decided that despite some very serious health problems on my part we wanted to have children. We assumed that conceiving a child would be as easy as deciding to have one. After three years of trying, one cycle of IUI at the office of a "reproductive specialist" and 10,000 dollars later we had our oldest daughter, Q. She is seven now and, although I love her with a passion and ferocity that only another mother can understand, she seems far more her father's daughter than mine. She shares with him a love and talent for creating things, for music and for shopping (which I hate). Like him she is honest and generous almost to a fault. There isn't a visitor that comes into our house that leaves without a gift of some sort and she never has any money because she always finds reasons to give it to her sister. What she did get from me was the same quickfire temper that I had as a child, a tendency to wake up more than a little cranky and a love for peanut butter. She will tell you that her greatest disappointment in life is having a mom that is not at all "fashionable" and that she dreams of growing up to be a ballerina, a paramedic and a winning contestant on American Idol.
After Q joined our family, Jeff and I didn't think a whole lot about having more children. We figured that, since the doctor told us we would probably not be able to conceive on our own, we would just worry about it if and when we decided to have another. Three years later, and two days before I was scheduled to have a much needed and serious back surgery, we discovered I was pregnant with our second daughter, Z. She hasn't stopped surprising us since! Z is the reason all of our furniture is bolted to the walls (not safety latched, bolted!), she is the reason why silence in my house scares me and she is the reason why, more often than not, our family is laughing. She is so smart it sometimes frightens me, but has no common sense at all. Parenting Z is like what I imagine riding a bull in a rodeo would be; fast, terrifying, exhilarating, dangerous, amazing and exhausting. She is 4 now and will tell you that her dream is to grow up and be a pastry chef with her own little booth by the side of the road, selling donuts, cakes and pies to people passing by. Also, a submarine pilot.
Well, those are my people and altogether they make me into so much more than I would have ever been on my own!
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