I just discovered at the convention that chocolate is a love language! And it is MY love language! I used to think it was affection or quality time, but no....the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that chocolate is what makes me feel most loved! It says "I want you to be happy, I love your body just the way it is, and I will gladly pay your dental bills in exchange for the honor of having you as my wife." I suppose technically chocolate IS a gift, but gifts are NOT my love language. I get physically ill when Steve brings me flowers because I know that he has just spent precious money on something that will be dead and useless in a couple weeks. Of course, if someone who does not share my checking account decides to gift me with flowers, I will graciously thank them and delight in every last posy. I am telling myself to post this thought "as is" and go reread "The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands," but am overcome with the need to share my disappointment with Steve's attempts at gift giving. It started early in our marriage. I was pregnant with Addie, our first, when I was presented with a Whoozit for my birthday. Anyone with kids knows that a Whoozit is a round squishy monster-creature baby toy that sports bizarre appendages. For a baby....a wonderful educational gift......for a pregnant birthday girl.......a cause for a long hard cry.
This year on my birthday I was convinced that Steve was really going to put some thought and effort into my gift......I am honest to a fault and he knows each and every time he is responsible for my disappointment.....so I thought he was really gonna bring it this year....to make up for all the others. He was late coming home from work and I just KNEW it was because he was busy planning something wonderful. But when he prefaced his presentation by saying...."now just keep in mind, this was all 75% off," I knew I would be disappointed once again. Keep in mind, I am ALL about 75% off, but I could tell by the tone of his voice that this would not be worth even 10% of the full price . Turns out he bought me some hideous wine glass party stickers (to use for what?), 3 boxes of blank note cards, each featuring a different fruit, and a horribly obnoxious CD of someone we had never heard of. Never buy a CD of someone you've never heard on a drug store clearance table.......it's there for a reason! So that was it.......a gift that said "I have no idea who you are or what you like.....but I DO know you enjoy a good bargain." Steve DOES know exactly who I am and what I like though, so this birthday was quite disheartening. Maybe that's why gifts, with the exception of chocolate and lotto tickets, are not my love language.
Why is blogging so hard? Because I care too much what people think of me? Because I'm afraid I haven't mastered all the rules of grammar yet and I don't want to give homeschoolers a bad name? Because I don't know if homeschooler is one word or two? Because I seem to be incapable of writing short and witty posts and instead fill them with unnecessary words and ramblings? Because it takes me 5 minutes to figure out the correct spelling of unnecessary? Because I'm afraid my addiction to the use of "dot dot dot...."(what are those called?....) will become all too evident.....So Nikki, you are my first reader. Thanks....I wasn't yet prepared to tell people about it...you know....hadn't done any revisions or anything.....the perfectionist that I like to think I am.....but I saw you had a link for Twiggy on your page, so I guess it's a go.
Today in the middle of the Key Note Speaker "speech?" I got a sickening phone call from home. After I ducked out of the auditorium, I listened to what seemed like 3 minutes of Gwen screaming hysterically as Steve yelled to the other girls to get her blanky. I could tell by Gwen's cries and Steve's tone that something was NOT right. When he finally realized I had answered the phone he yelled "You have to come home right now!" He proceeded to tell me that Gwen and Ella had been playing on a blanket chest we have in front of a (locked) window in their room. My first thought was that they had somehow opened the window and Gwen had fallen out.....from a high second story. In reality, she had fallen off the chest to the floor and Steve thought her teeth had broken all the way through her lip to the other side. My heart was racing as a sped home to find Gwen looking horribly beat up, but playing semi-happily. Turns out she somehow cut both the inside and outside of her lip pretty bad, but the bleeding had stopped so we could see that her teeth hadn't actually gone all the way through her lip. What a relief! I won't be forgetting that sickening phone call anytime soon.
Today I supported March of Dimes by buying a plate of cookies and subsequently also supported Thunder Thighs for Equal Opportunity Laps;)
My 3 year old, Ella, has been asking lots of questions lately...."Mommy, is God really real?....then why doesn't he talk to us? Is there more than one God? Am I really a princess?"
I hate telling her that technically she isn't a princess, but so far she seems content enough to just be MY princess.
Random....that's how I roll!