Thursday, July 29, 2010

the story of you

Dear little Josh,

Two years ago, I thought I would never have children. Never marry, never have children, and at the rate my life was going, never move out of your grandparents' house. I was 26 years old, a brand new paramedic trying to find a job, with a best friend named Melissa who had a really cute brother who didn't believe in having girlfriends.
I couldn't figure that out. What does a red-blooded, American, 25-year-old male who doesn't believe in girlfriends DO?

Well, if you are your daddy, you spend a lot of time hanging out with your sister and her best friend. You go to all the movies they go to, and watch movies at home, and go to church with them, and trail everyplace they go. And you never, ever even insinuate that you might be falling in love with your sister's best friend.
And you pick up shifts at work with her.
And you talk to her on the phone via text a lot, especially once you have convinced her that you don't want a girlfriend, so she doesn't suspect anything.
And you spend so much time with her that you forget about dating, and you simply become the very best of friends.
And eventually, once she is so madly in love with you that she can't stand having to act like she doesn't care for you anymore, you offer yourself up as a date for her little sister's wedding. And after that wedding, you privately tell her that you love her. And of course she knows you well enough that if you are telling her that you love her, then what you are really saying is that you want to marry her.

That, dear little Joshua, is what you do if you are your daddy.

And a few months later, one night in her parents house, you hand her the ring that you so carefully selected, and she slips it on her finger and whispers yes, of course I will. And she wonders if, finally, you might even kiss her now that she is wearing your diamond ring--but you don't.

And just three months after that, in the same living room where you asked her to marry you, you and her, in front of just your families and three close friends, take the vow you were waiting your whole life for. The one and only woman you so faithfully kept your heart for.
And you will kiss her, there in her childhood living room, and it is a good kiss.

And a year and two months later, a beautiful little boy comes to live with you and join your family. And he looks a lot like his daddy, and his mommy's heart is so full it could burst.

And, if you are your daddy, you all live happily ever after.


Tuesday, July 20, 2010


I know I haven't written much. Life's been busy. I smell like spit up and baby formula and unwashed hair. I'm sleeping four hours a night and putting together an entire orientation and training program at work. And I just went back on the road two weeks ago. I've missed work. I like teaching. I like being a paramedic. I love my son.

But I am so tired all the time.

Other things have been stressful. There is much infighting and arguing and silliness going on, not between my husband and I(though, admittedly, we've found ourselves bringing some of it home) but between colleaues. Things we've been caught up in, things we've taken much too seriously. I have no use for drama, or BS, or stupidity. It's too much like religion; people take what they believe and what works for them too seriously, and criticize everyone else. Instead of recognizing and appreciating people's differences and choices, we demand that everything must be one way, without searching for a compromise. And that means that there are hurt feelings and hurt people, with long time friendships split and people divided into little factions. And I simply have no use for that.

I've found motherhood to be lonely. Part of it is that I don't know a lot of women my age. Many of the mothers I know in my area had children early and are well out of the infant stage. The women I know from college and graduate school are, like me, pushing 30, but many of them have yet to marry, and the ones who are married are waiting a quite a bit longer for kids. And I am afraid that, as time goes by, we will have less and less in common. Mostly, though, there is just nobody around me that I have anything in common with, and even though my husband tells me to find activities where I can meet people, I can't find much I'm interested in. This isn't exactly an exciting, family friendly town where I live.

Am I complaining? Not really. I just wish there was Gymboree and Mommy and Me and baby swim lessons in this area. I wish that the churches around here were not so quick to subtly condemn working moms and offered things in the evenings, instead of Tuesday mornings. I wish that my decision to keep my baby with me in church didn't relegate me to the back pew. I wish...maybe all I wish is that we were all not so quick to condemn.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

My little boy laughed his first laugh today
and the whole world stood still to listen