Friday, February 6, 2009

Funny Valentine

I wrote my husband a love letter the other day.

Or maybe more like an obsessed fan letter. Like 'Dear Glorious Man, You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Love, Psycho.'

We'd had a discussion the night before, subject unimportant, that didn't devolve into an argument, but still wasn't quite resolved in my brain. There is some sharp, Dorito-like chip of it still stuck in my craw. Like a record skipping & skipping & skipping.

He says I talk in riddles when we argue or discuss. I say they're analogies.

At any rate, I say I'm usually the Peacemaker. The Ender of Awkwardness. The Breaker of Silences. Not getting along is hugely inconvenient for me. It's like walking around with a dead monkey tethered to your leg, and everyone knows I don't even like living monkeys. (That was an analogy joke. Ha?)

I didn't used to be that way. I could hold out with the best of them. I know how to be the Wounded Party. And boy, could I hold a grudge. I kind of like not speaking for days at a time.

But I've decided that I'm too old, life is too short, and if I'm going to expend that much extra emotional energy, I'm going to try to be positive. Instead of being a mean & spiteful bitch (and I've got natural abilities,) I try to be calm & gentle. Not only trying to not say mean things, but saying nice things. Give a hug when I'd rather strangle. Keep my mouth shut when I feel like spitting nails. Write a love letter when I'm feeling maybe not so appreciated. It's surprising how quickly my ire is neutralized.

Along the same lines of doing stuff I don't always feel like doing but end up glad I did:

-Listening to Lily read the same really, really long story for her homework assignment. Including the parts where she keeps flipping back a page to show me something. Something we just saw when she read it a second ago. When I really need to do the dishes and the laundry, clean up the stacks of paper & mail, clean the mystery sticky stuff from the floor. When I'm so overloaded with human contact from being at work all day and I just want to crawl in a hole. I know my days of her reading to me are numbered.

-Playing video games with Sam. I'm no good at video games. And somehow I always accidently hit the pause button on the Wii-mote and mess up the game, but he still asks me to play.

-Lingering hugs with Aggie. Really, really lingering. Like you wonder if she fell asleep. Not that I don't love her hugs, but it seems like she wants them most when I'm scurrying through the kitchen from one chore to the next with ten things on my mind. The thing is, I think part of the lingering is because she doesn't want to be the first to end the embrace just in case you're not ready to let go; she doesn't want to hurt your feelings.

-Watching 'Cops' with Mark. OK, there's very little satisfaction from that.


Tipper said...

Neat post! You're right it's better to take the positive road instead of the hold a grudge road :)

I have felt the same way with my girls-not really wanting to hear every detail of what happened that day at school-but also knowing there will come a time when they won't want to tell me about their day too.

Becky said...

Oh, this gets me a little verklempt. (Not sure if I spelled that right, but I mean choked-up!) I so agree about how time and experience has taught me to just choose to be happy instead of right. I swear this is the secret to marital longevity.

And tonight I was trying to get through Hank's bedtime story so I could get on with the adult portion of the evening, and he kept turning my head towards him and planting big wet smackers right on my lips, and I thought, "These days won't last!"

Amy said...

This is a great post. You're so right--about choosing the right thing when it's really the last thing you "want" to do. Thanks for this!

Belle said...

Great post. I just spent the weekend listening to my daughter read me her favourite book. It was agonizing.

ERageK said...

I love your analogies. When and how did you know it was time to stop holding grudges and be the maker of the peace? I must learn. I also believe that it is the secret to marital longevity. Communicating, that is.
I've seen that picture on that page too. Xzavier likes to show me and tell me all about it, which I don't understand.
You're such a poser.

osagebluffquilter said...

thanks for stopping by my blog. the hubby loved reading your post. Many of the butchering stories we can relate to.
Now I have to go take a pice of my almost all eaten pie to post, just to show you I can bake a pie too! LOL

Kate said...

I love the Dorito-like chip analogy, very well put! You are right about choosing to be peaceful, and it's good to be reminded of this truth from time to time. Great post.

Sara said...

Dang! You all leave the best comments!