Sometimes I sit here and start a post, then interesting things happen around me....I am simply determined to pay more attention, and be awake to catch when one of these kids of mine needs me. Teenaged girls are funny, they never want to talk when it's convenient for me, and I am asking them how they are. But how touchy they can be if they attempt to bare their soul and I am distracted. Mom doesn't listen!
Lest I make them sound bratty, they are, and they aren't. One of them was giving me a hard time the other night, but then I got a late night text...sorry for being kind of a jerk, I let my emotions get the best of me, and I am sorry. whoa! That is no small thing! And believe me, I am very very thankful when one of them can see how they are, and want to be good. Even if it's a midnight text.
Our New Year's Eve was interesting. We planned our steak dinner, the on the way back from the movies with the three youngest, we realized the older kids' celebration didn't start until 9:30, and the three kids who worked the fundraiser would be getting home and be hungry...so we detoured to a store that was still open, and bought more steak. Paul broiled the meat, I made the veggies and deep fried a whole 5 pound bag of russet potatoes, cut and soaked...plus some fries from the freezer. The older kids really appreciated it....and when they left, we ate...the little kids had eaten already, and it wasn't like I had planned, but hey, what is?
Then...I started to get a headache. I don't know if it was the movie, or being out in the freezing weather, or something I ate...but it got worse and worse...ibuprofen didn't touch it, so I added an acetominophen...still help...I was feeling like I was going to be sick, and my eyes hurt...I felt really guilty, but I had to go to bed fifteen minutes before midnight. I took an Excedrin, drank lots of water, and climbed into bed, feeling like I ruined New Year's. The kids stayed up with Daddy....but I couldn't move. Not even a finger, lest I feel like I was going to throw up. blah what a night. I woke up on New Year's day feeling like I had been run over by a truck, and it wasn't a hangover. It was a migraine hangover.
But that's life. Yesterday, Camille made a pineapple upside down cake from a kids' baking book we got from the library. I am allergic to pineapple, so I won't be sneaking any tastes from it. It came out beautiful, but no one wanted a piece, and I felt sorry for Cam. She had a slice, the rest of the cake is just sitting there. I am not above eating cake so a child doesn't feel like no one wanted their cake, but I can't eat it, thankfully...
The kids had pizza for dinner, Paul and I had coneys (spicy white hot dogs), we had veggies and dip, the kids had chips too...I had roasted sweet potatoes, too.
It's snowing out now, the ground is all white, it is very wintery and looks like a Christmas card out my windows.
It is cozy in here, I am sipping my coffee...lots of the kids are sleeping still, Paul is up.
And...today is sort of our anniversary. 33 years ago tonight, Paul and I met.
It was a cold night. I found out later, it was the last night of Paul's college vacation, and his brother talked him into going out with him....he would rather just stay in and play his guitar...but he went out. I was 16 years old, a junior in high school (yeah, I would kill one my daughters:)). I was spending the weekend with my cousins, who lived out in the country, but decided to go out, in the small city. I had to lie to the bouncer, to get into the bar. I had practiced saying my birthday, just moving the year back two years, over and over again. When I got to the door, I explained I had not brought my purse and didn't know I was going out, and I was born July 10 1963, which was partly true. Oh, the good old days when the drinking age was 18.
So I got into the bar. I hung around with my cousin and a few of her friends. We just stood around, playing this game called, "Wouldn't I like to bring him home to meet Mommy." Basically just checking out all of the guys, and choosing a favorite. I picked Paul out from the crowd. Oh, he was cute. Curly hair to his shoulders, slim, tall, cute. I told my cousin he was the one I wanted to bring home to meet Mommy. Then she pointed out that, as he went up to the bar, his shirt tag was sticking out. She dared me to go tuck it in. Now, I was 16 year old. I hadn't had anything to drink, we were just there to hang out. But I was dared, so I did. I went up to that cute guy and tucked his shirt tag in. He turned around, and said, "That must have taken alot of guts.", or something like that. He had just bought two beers....I guess 33 years ago, beer was cheap, they were two for a buck, I think. He handed me one, and we stood there and talked. We liked the same books, and the same cartoons. Okay, I confess, I am not head over heels for Bugs Bunny, but I thought it was adorable that he was so unashamed to admit he was. He was so cute! So clean and sincere and respectful. He asked me to dance, and the song was playing, "If I Could Fly..." So...we danced, and looked into each other's eyes, had a kiss or two...and I was gone, just in love. Remember, I was sixteen years old.
He called me the next night. And the next. It was long distance, back then, but he still called. He came to visit me a few weeks later...he apparently felt the same way about me. We did get "converted" about a year later, then were married when I was 18 and he was 20. Oh, what babies we were! But we loved each other, and that hasn't changed. We have had our ups and downs through the years, but it has always been the two of us against our problems, never divided or against each other.
He is an amazing husband. He is kind, and thoughtful, and responsible. Of course there have been times...times when I have felt slighted or ignored or that he simply didn't like me anymore. But men and women are different, and our responses differ too. Communication! We both want the same thing, but the thoughts that can grow and multiply in our own minds if we don't talk and straighten things out....
Anyway. I am thankful for Paul, even though he can be stubborn and picky and he has so much energy, he makes me feel unaccomplished and lazy, simply by his existence. :)
Ha, he is up and doing things, and here I sit, typing.
Pvt. Samuel W. is coming home next month to visit, if he can get approval from the whole chain of command. Paul is going to France at the end of January, but will be home by then. It will be better than Christmas, to have Sam here. He is everyone's favorite brother. It would be perfect if Ben and Ashley could take a quick trip home then too, so everyone could be together at once. Abigail and Margaret might be going to Norway for a year, leaving in June...
The kids are awake, and there are things to do. Breakfast, sweeping, a few loads of laundry....