One night a while ago my husband laid in the bed and struggled with his heart. He had earbuds in his ears and was flipping through the music on his iPod like crazy, each one filling a dip in his soul. He said he was struggling with how to say what was on his mind. While I could hear the music, I let him be. I let him drift and ride through the music, filling up his dips, until he handed me an earbud. We listened together and he teared up. He said sometimes he forgets to love me enough. Sometimes he forgets that I need him. He promised to try harder during those times. How sweet is that?
I cannot find a pilates mat class here and that breaks my heart. We have a handful of pilates places, but they all use the machines for the entire class. I’m not interested in that; I want to use my body as its own weapon! I was up to class 2x a week (running 3-5 miles before each one) a few years ago. I’d love to get back to that.
Last Friday I got word that my uncle Billy went to meet Jesus. He was the anti-car salesman. He had 5 kids and was married to my Aunt Betty, who went home to see the Lord 6 months after my dad did. I lived with them when I was six and my mommy had breast cancer treatment out of town. Uncle Billy lived a very long and happy life, and I can’t contain the happiness I feel at the reunion that took place in Heaven when he arrived. I’m sure that his brother Harry (the chief of police in our small town), and my father (a deputy) all sat down at a table in Heaven for a nice, long game of pinochle. My goodness those men loved one another. They are all missed.
Recently my husband and I stood in the kitchen for hours and listened to music. We shared stories (something crazy happened in Alec, I can tell you that!) and hopes and fears and the whole lot of it. It felt like my pink kitchen all over again. We both cried and we danced on the wood floor to Into The Mystic and some Mumford & Sons. I love that reconnection and feel that it’s so incredibly important to do as often as you can – that RESET of life. God was there with us and Bryon heard Him easily and smiled a new, soft smile at the message: “she will figure you out.” Everything Bryon lacks the words to say, every bit of gratitude for me in his life that he cannot articulate, he said God assured him, I would figure out. How sweet is that? By the time we poured ourselves into bed it was very late and we slept glued together, my left side and his right, with my fingers twirled in his wolfy chest hair. I am so amazingly lucky.
Last Wednesday, the girls had gymnastics. After dropping them off, my husband and I went on a date. Our date was only 90 minutes, but boy howdy, a date is a date. And we were craving sushi. That’s my favorite kind of dinner date. I tried a spicy angel roll and eel avocado roll. Both were delicious. Bryon is classic and unwavering in his order, getting the same thing each and every time: spicy tuna roll and spicy salmon roll. And then he puts almost the entire ball of wasabi into his soy sauce dish and rolls them around in it. Weirdo. Last night, we sipped our hot tea [that might be my FAVORITE part of sushi date night, honestly] and enjoyed our maki. It was nice to go somewhere alone, to hear quiet, and to watch my husband perfect his use of chopsticks. Sushi date night 1: fork [in Cbus with BeckAY], sushi date night 2: fingers. He continued on for a long while eating his maki with his hands. To be honest, I stopped paying attention to his level of utensil proficiency and then last night, I noticed. Full on chopsticks. I swelled with pride. *burp*
Did you notice that Target now carries the most adorable heeled tennies? They are all over the runway and look so 80’s and darling, but I can’t bring myself to buy them yet. What say you on this trend?
Mornings are rough at our house, but one day I will miss the chaos. I will miss the arguments about cereal and brushing hair. I will miss asking Andy to take off one of his five shirts, and asking Trevor to wear a long sleeve because its 0 degrees out. I will miss stepping in melty, oozy toothpaste on the bathroom floor and flushing ‘nobody’s’ pee down the potty sixteen times a morning. I won’t miss yelling at them to hurry up, and I pray about that one all the time. But one day they will be big and I will be sad that I don’t have them at home to wake up anymore. Mabel likes me to sing her awake. And Trevor likes me to lay down and cuddle on him (wonder if that will change when he’s 16). Sigh.