When I was pregnant with Daniel, I used to joke that Doug would be so engrossed in his video game that he wouldn't even realize that I had gone into labor until he heard the baby cry. It was mostly a joke, but I've always despised video games. Well, maybe not always, but at least since I ended a relationship over Everquest in college and the idiot I was dating didn't even realize it was over for several days because he was too caught up in his make-believe world. Doug told me then that when Daniel arrived, that would be the end of his "gaming" days. Not.
We haven't really fought-fought about his "habit" in a while, but Sunday. . . we sure did. I won't go into the details (there are some things I prefer to keep at least semi-private), but there were raised voices, a few tears, and definitely some hurt feelings (on my part). Suffice it to say that I often feel that the video game somehow takes precedence over me (or at least my feelings). We said we were sorry - him for choosing an inappropriate time to play the game; me for losing my temper. The discussion was over. I thought it was a closed book. Until Doug returned from the other room to snap the disc in half and throw it away.
. . .
I had no idea what to say or do. He wasn't angry. He was just finished, I guess. Finished hearing me reference "that stupid game" in nearly every argument we've ever had. He pitched it in the trash and went about his business. What to do? Laugh? Cry? Say "thank you?" I was at a total loss. I guess waiting for it to happen for 2+ years just made it that much more. . . awkward, I guess. I haven't said a word. He hasn't said a word. Things have been a LOT better since, so I guess, perhaps, it should go left unsaid (whatever "it" is).
Isn't it funny? You want something for ages - regardless of how insignificant it is - and when you finally get it, you don't know what to do with it. I guess that's why we're taught not to covet. When you finally do get the forbidden fruit, it just doesn't seem all that sweet after all.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Finding balance
This semester is weird. Doug is (going to be) home for dinner every night - woohoo! But Daniel's bedtime has quickly become study time for Doug. I find myself at a loss. You would think I'd be able to occupy myself just fine. I managed nights alone several nights a week for (literally) years. With Doug home (and busy), I just can't quite figure out to do with myself.
Watching a movie is out. We have a very open living area, part of which serves as a study/dining room. That's where Doug studies, less than 10 feet from the TV. Cleaning? Eh. I do most of that during nap time. Cooking? There ya go. I love to bake when the mood strikes and lately, that happens often. I'm on a mini muffin kick. Since Christmas, I've made mini/many of the following: pancake muffins, pumpkin butterscotch muffins, cinnamon muffins, pecan pie muffins, orange muffins, and pending peanut butter muffins. I'm not quite burned out, but I can't see making a batch of mini muffins every night when Daniel goes to bed for the next four months.
Part of my resolution for 2010 was to read the Bible. My One-Year Bible arrived yesterday and so far, I'm on track. The readings are short, though, and I finish them in about 20 minutes. I should devote some of this time to prayer or further Bible study, but I'm having challenges getting motivated. Last night, I finished 2 chapters of Genesis, 2 chapters of Matthew, and a passage from Psalm and promptly moved on to my book about witches and vampires. See what I mean about motivation?
I'd love to blog more, but I just don't have that much to say. Well, not enough to warrant a nightly post at least. I'm not sure where or how to find balance with our new schedule. I'm thrilled that Doug is home for dinner, bath, and bed for Daniel, but it's a little off having him sit right over there and pay zero attention to me. Maybe I just need a little time to adjust (this is just night #2 after all). Maybe I need another new year's resolution. Maybe. . . hmm. A thought just hit me. Maybe I should set the treadmill up in the garage and start running during study time. Whatever I should do, I wish the idea, motivation, and resources would come to me soon. I'm not falling, but I'm definitely a little wobbly.
Watching a movie is out. We have a very open living area, part of which serves as a study/dining room. That's where Doug studies, less than 10 feet from the TV. Cleaning? Eh. I do most of that during nap time. Cooking? There ya go. I love to bake when the mood strikes and lately, that happens often. I'm on a mini muffin kick. Since Christmas, I've made mini/many of the following: pancake muffins, pumpkin butterscotch muffins, cinnamon muffins, pecan pie muffins, orange muffins, and pending peanut butter muffins. I'm not quite burned out, but I can't see making a batch of mini muffins every night when Daniel goes to bed for the next four months.
Part of my resolution for 2010 was to read the Bible. My One-Year Bible arrived yesterday and so far, I'm on track. The readings are short, though, and I finish them in about 20 minutes. I should devote some of this time to prayer or further Bible study, but I'm having challenges getting motivated. Last night, I finished 2 chapters of Genesis, 2 chapters of Matthew, and a passage from Psalm and promptly moved on to my book about witches and vampires. See what I mean about motivation?
I'd love to blog more, but I just don't have that much to say. Well, not enough to warrant a nightly post at least. I'm not sure where or how to find balance with our new schedule. I'm thrilled that Doug is home for dinner, bath, and bed for Daniel, but it's a little off having him sit right over there and pay zero attention to me. Maybe I just need a little time to adjust (this is just night #2 after all). Maybe I need another new year's resolution. Maybe. . . hmm. A thought just hit me. Maybe I should set the treadmill up in the garage and start running during study time. Whatever I should do, I wish the idea, motivation, and resources would come to me soon. I'm not falling, but I'm definitely a little wobbly.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Is it time?
Yesterday was Daniel's 18-month milestone. Wow. A year and a half. I didn't spend the day looking back, but instead, looking forward. Doug and I have decided that we'll start trying to make our family of three a family of four as soon as Daniel's second birthday rolls around.
I was sitting on the couch watching the fire and enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. I was thinking about all of the must-dos we had on our list before Daniel was planned/conceived/born. We had to buy a house and make at least one more big trip before conceiving. We had to take a babymoon and walk on the beach in Costa Rica and dream of names for our little peanut. We had to find a crib. We had to take a class. We had to get the nursery ready. We had to have one more big date night before Daniel was born. We had to make some really serious decisions about our life-style and my career options.
The must-do list now? It doesn't exist. I said to Doug, "Wow. We're going to start trying for baby #2 in 6 months. We better hurry up and . . . " I trailed off. Nothing. Hurry up and nothing. Life is exactly as it should be. We're happy. We're healthy. We're whole. Are we ready now? As much as my heart says yes, my head says no. My head says to listen to what it's saying. Let Doug finish school. Let us really be a family of three, seven nights a week, before we have to learn to be a family of four. Let us live. Let us learn. Let us enjoy. Maybe there's nothing tangible on that must-do list, but the next six months shouldn't be one long ellipses. The next six months should be life. To the fullest. With my family.
I was sitting on the couch watching the fire and enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. I was thinking about all of the must-dos we had on our list before Daniel was planned/conceived/born. We had to buy a house and make at least one more big trip before conceiving. We had to take a babymoon and walk on the beach in Costa Rica and dream of names for our little peanut. We had to find a crib. We had to take a class. We had to get the nursery ready. We had to have one more big date night before Daniel was born. We had to make some really serious decisions about our life-style and my career options.
The must-do list now? It doesn't exist. I said to Doug, "Wow. We're going to start trying for baby #2 in 6 months. We better hurry up and . . . " I trailed off. Nothing. Hurry up and nothing. Life is exactly as it should be. We're happy. We're healthy. We're whole. Are we ready now? As much as my heart says yes, my head says no. My head says to listen to what it's saying. Let Doug finish school. Let us really be a family of three, seven nights a week, before we have to learn to be a family of four. Let us live. Let us learn. Let us enjoy. Maybe there's nothing tangible on that must-do list, but the next six months shouldn't be one long ellipses. The next six months should be life. To the fullest. With my family.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Christmas
Christmas Eve Eve. Doug came home from work, as usual, around 4:30. We had plans to go to dinner with my folks. It was a really nice afternoon, but a cold front was on its way. The humans were in. The dogs were out. Daniel innocently picked up Maddie's rubber bone. He looked at the bone, looked at Maddie through the window, held up her bone, said, "Matt-Matt's bone!" and let loose. Daniel hadn't ever really thrown anything before. That kid has a cannon. The bone smacked the glass dead center and CRACK! All three of us gasped and spent several seconds looking back and forth between each other and the shattered glass.
Suddenly, we (Doug and I) sprang into action. I grabbed the couch and shoved it up against the glass to keep Daniel away from it. Doug grabbed Daniel and pulled him out of the path of the couch. I grabbed the tape and started doctoring the glass. Doug pulled Daniel away from the glass. I grabbed the phone and called Ace Hardware - open until 5:30 - 35 minutes to measure, load, drive, and buy. We can do it. And we did. We barely made it, but after $14 (whew!) and being ushered out the door as they turned off the lights and wished each other a merry Christmas, we had our glass and we were on our way to eat with my folks (we needed my dad to help put the new glass in).
Dinner, cold front, rain, rain, rain. Doug and my dad are in the backyard. Doug's holding the umbrella, the flashlight, and the trash bag. My dad is pulling the glass out of the window. Daniel is fuh-reaking out that he can't be anywhere near the action. The cat is trying to escape. The dogs are going nuts. And - wait for it - the glass is 1/4 inch too short. Lesson: NEVER let Sheri measure anything. Ever. Again.
At this point (nearly 9:00 pm), my parents (pretend to) leave and we put Daniel to bed. My dad and Doug re-measure the window (correctly this time). My parents leave. Doug goes to Home Depot. Of course, Home Depot didn't have glass large enough to accommodate our dimensions. Of course, the plexiglass was twice as expensive. Of course, Doug didn't know anything about scoring and breaking plexiglass. Trust me, people. 10:00 in the middle of a cold front (read - icy freaking thunderstorm) on Christmas Eve Eve is NOT when you want to teach yourself to DIY plexiglass installation.
Doug finally made it to bed around 11:30. The glass looked great. I, being the kind and loving wife that I am, let Doug sleep in the next morning. Of course, our new (plexi)glass was conspicuously clean. So Daniel and I went on a cleaning rampage while Doug slept. It could have been MUCH, much worse.
Christmas Eve. All day, I've been telling Daniel, "Santa is coming tonight!! He's bringing TOYS!!" We've gone over this and over this. Around 3:00, Doug's dad and his new wife show up for the Christmas Eve church service. New wife is wearing a red sweater. "Daniel? Do you know who this is?" Daniel looks from Granny to me back to Granny. His eyes light up with wonder. He opens his adorable little mouth and says, "SANTA!!!" Talk about humiliating!! She took it with good grace and we all laughed. In fact, we've encouraged Daniel to call her Granny Santa. He just says Granny now, but it was fun while it lasted.
Christmas Day. Oatmeal pancakes. Cleaning. Nap. Cleaning. Ham in the oven. Family arrives. Dressing in the oven. More family arrives. Veggies in the oven. MORE family arrives. Chat. Chat. Chat. Pray. EAT! Chat. Chat. Chat. Presents! Chat. Chat. Chat. Night night.
Thus was the Christmas of 2009. We had a ton of fun, a LOT of laughter, and a lot of good memories made, even if they do include shattered windows and wounded pride. Here's to the Christmas season. I hope yours was every bit as fulfilling as ours.
Suddenly, we (Doug and I) sprang into action. I grabbed the couch and shoved it up against the glass to keep Daniel away from it. Doug grabbed Daniel and pulled him out of the path of the couch. I grabbed the tape and started doctoring the glass. Doug pulled Daniel away from the glass. I grabbed the phone and called Ace Hardware - open until 5:30 - 35 minutes to measure, load, drive, and buy. We can do it. And we did. We barely made it, but after $14 (whew!) and being ushered out the door as they turned off the lights and wished each other a merry Christmas, we had our glass and we were on our way to eat with my folks (we needed my dad to help put the new glass in).
Dinner, cold front, rain, rain, rain. Doug and my dad are in the backyard. Doug's holding the umbrella, the flashlight, and the trash bag. My dad is pulling the glass out of the window. Daniel is fuh-reaking out that he can't be anywhere near the action. The cat is trying to escape. The dogs are going nuts. And - wait for it - the glass is 1/4 inch too short. Lesson: NEVER let Sheri measure anything. Ever. Again.
At this point (nearly 9:00 pm), my parents (pretend to) leave and we put Daniel to bed. My dad and Doug re-measure the window (correctly this time). My parents leave. Doug goes to Home Depot. Of course, Home Depot didn't have glass large enough to accommodate our dimensions. Of course, the plexiglass was twice as expensive. Of course, Doug didn't know anything about scoring and breaking plexiglass. Trust me, people. 10:00 in the middle of a cold front (read - icy freaking thunderstorm) on Christmas Eve Eve is NOT when you want to teach yourself to DIY plexiglass installation.
Doug finally made it to bed around 11:30. The glass looked great. I, being the kind and loving wife that I am, let Doug sleep in the next morning. Of course, our new (plexi)glass was conspicuously clean. So Daniel and I went on a cleaning rampage while Doug slept. It could have been MUCH, much worse.
Christmas Eve. All day, I've been telling Daniel, "Santa is coming tonight!! He's bringing TOYS!!" We've gone over this and over this. Around 3:00, Doug's dad and his new wife show up for the Christmas Eve church service. New wife is wearing a red sweater. "Daniel? Do you know who this is?" Daniel looks from Granny to me back to Granny. His eyes light up with wonder. He opens his adorable little mouth and says, "SANTA!!!" Talk about humiliating!! She took it with good grace and we all laughed. In fact, we've encouraged Daniel to call her Granny Santa. He just says Granny now, but it was fun while it lasted.
Christmas Day. Oatmeal pancakes. Cleaning. Nap. Cleaning. Ham in the oven. Family arrives. Dressing in the oven. More family arrives. Veggies in the oven. MORE family arrives. Chat. Chat. Chat. Pray. EAT! Chat. Chat. Chat. Presents! Chat. Chat. Chat. Night night.
Thus was the Christmas of 2009. We had a ton of fun, a LOT of laughter, and a lot of good memories made, even if they do include shattered windows and wounded pride. Here's to the Christmas season. I hope yours was every bit as fulfilling as ours.
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