Little Tidbits

First

Tahd and I have an ongoing debate about his facial hair.  He wants some, preferably a beard of the Amish variety.  I think he says that just to tease me, but knowing my husband, I can’t be sure.  I find it prickly and uncomfortable and I vote no!  To be totally honest, we also have an ongoing debate about his regular hair, too.  He wants to shave himself bald.  I’m not too sure about that.  I did, however, make a bargain with him that if he gets a Facebook page I’ll be on board with his cue ball ‘do.  Guess what?  No Facebook page.  Yet.  I keep working on him.  It goes to show how much I want him on Facebook.  And how much he doesn’t want to be on Facebook.

But I digress.

Last night as he was getting ready to go to bed, he lovingly swept his hand around the back of my neck, pulled my face toward his, and proceeded to mash his sharp, prickly newly-growing goatee into my face. I pulled back and yelped and asked him if he’d be willing to at least shave the mustache part.  I don’t mind the soul patch because it doesn’t inflict the same level of pain.  He said he’d consider it, but he wouldn’t do it today because he doesn’t shave on Tuesdays – only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

Then it hit me.  It must be nice to have my husband’s life – a life when he wakes up every day and knows what’s going to happen.  Me?  Every day’s a new adventure.  I wake up and wonder, What will I do today? The sky’s the limit!  That lack of direction usually lands me back on my butt, overwhelmed and on the couch and scouring the Internet for a life purpose or something like that. But seriously, even washing my hair is up for question these days.  I wake up and wonder, Will I wash my hair today? And I really don’t know.  I might not decide until quite late in the day.

Yeah, I aspire to big things!

Second

Poor Gabe.  I think he has croup.  Again.  I thought for sure he was too old for croup.  Then he got it in May and we had to take him to the ER.  The nurse, before hearing him, alluded to the same thought.  Then she heard him cough.  Yep – apparently his body hasn’t gotten the memo that croup is for babies.

Anyway, when he’s sick he tends to wake up in the early evenings.  Right on cue – 9:45, actually – I heard him wailing.  I ran upstairs thinking he might be having some breathing distress and found him crying and writhing around in his bed.  I laid down beside him and put my hand on his stomach and asked him what was wrong.  He haltingly claimed, “I… want… to…

play the piano!”

Alrighty, then.  I promptly moved my hand from his stomach to his forehead.  That sounded like fever talk to me.  Thankfully, no fever.  I have no idea what it was, but hopefully it doesn’t mean we’re in for a long night!

Third

I felt like an awful mom today.  Gabe talked back.  Repeatedly.  He hates everything – the fact that I make him go upstairs by himself, the fact that I won’t let him do whatever he wants whenever he wants, the fact that I won’t let him eat cookies all day.  He yelled all day long.  If I was upstairs and he was downstairs, he spent the whole time yelling information to me.  Not angrily – just informationally.  It was loud.  Most irritating, though, was the fact that if I was still – and sometimes even when I wasn’t still – he needed to be thisclose to me.  And not just touching me – no.  Pushing into me with his head, elbows, arms, and legs.  And then fidgeting.  Endlessly.  All because he wanted to “snuggle.”

I should be thrilled that my five year old wants to snuggle with me, right?  I should be cutting him a little slack because he wasn’t feeling well today, right?  I shouldn’t take it personally that he hates every. single. item. of. food. I. ever. make. right?

But today I just didn’t have it in me.  Tomorrow will be better.  If I have anything to say about it, tomorrow will be better.  I promised myself that.  I don’t have a plan yet, but I’m going to find a way to harness our strengths – his loudness, desire to snuggle, and ability to make a mess and my desire for order, spontaneity, and accomplishment – and turn it into something good.

Fourth

Based on the experiences detailed in my third tidbit, I basically ran for the hills when Tahd came home tonight.  And by “the hills” I really mean “the bookstore.”  It is a little slice of heaven.  And I bought three books, one of which I read 150 pages while I sat there.  Really, after you read 150 pages of a book while still in the bookstore, I’m pretty sure you are obligated to purchase it.  Morally if not legally.  But it was a good book – So Long Insecurity, by Beth Moore.

And for now I think I’m going to go to bed where I can read a little more of the book I started several hours ago.  At this pace, I might have it finished by morning!