A couple of months ago, I decided to take a break blogging about Daddy and me with too much specificity. It was beginning to drag us both down. I was focusing on how hard things were. He was reading the posts with growing uneasiness. Sort of like a theater producer waiting for the next morning reviews. And like a lot of plays- sometimes they weren't so good.
As I've thought back over the past weeks I realized something important.
By focusing on what wasn't working as well as I'd have liked them to, I missed all of those things that were working out pretty damned good. By trying to work through things, understand things, figure things out, and by blogging about it all, I was missing all the things that didn't need work.
I missed that we still date each other. We go out to dinner at fairly frequent intervals and spend time together, flirting with each other (and usually the waitstaff). Away from the house. Away from phones (mostly) and work and family. Just us. We also seem to reconnect so well on those date nights, I wonder why I missed their value.
I missed the simple enjoyment of sleeping in a little later than normal, snuggling next to each other. With his arms around me and my head on his shoulder. I'd not realized that all those Saturday morning errands can indeed wait an hour or two. He's not expecting things to get done to a particular schedule. And the schnoodling is more important.
I missed the normal activity of eating dinner together. This is one he insists upon. I'd be perfectly happy with a bowl of cereal in front of the computer for dinner. But even without the boy with us, he insists that, if we're home together, we eat together. It's unusual for me. But it does give us a chance to talk and laugh and catch up on the day. Even if sometimes it's catching up over a pizza.
I missed that there's rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't pop in on the computer to say hello. We don't have a lot of time to chat during the day, but just knowing that we're "close by" with an open chat window, sometimes makes the difference when one of us is having a hard day.
I missed how he always smiles when he sees me. As if his brain tells him that there's someone there now who will take care of him for a little while. Some days, it's like a great big sigh of relief that I can feel from him, simply by touching his shoulders and bringing him a drink.
I missed how I feel when I'm finally home after I've had a hugely trying day. A long commute, or when I'm frazzled by all those twigs in my camel's back. He's not always able to remove a few of them, but just talking to him oftentimes lets me prioritize things a little better.
I missed how much we enjoyed just talking with each other. Making up silly stories, telling each other about our lives, whispering words that would make some people blush (or conversely make some really jealous). Using each others biggest sexual organ (the brain you pervs) in ways that I've certainly never experienced before. Learning to talk with each other is much more difficult than I'd imagined, but the reward has been infinitely worth every hard won moment. We sometimes can speak without words, knowing from time together what each of us may need at the moment.
I missed how careful, attentive, giving and playful he is when we play. I missed that by taking things slowly, we learned about each other. We learned to trust and we learned to understand each others needs.
I missed how he's attuned to my moods. He pays far more attention to them than I do. And as a result, he's usually (more often than not) correct about them. I really hate to admit that on the rare times he misreads me, he's not usually that far away. If it was horseshoes, he'd miss a ringer, but still get a point. Having someone who knows what you're feeling is a little unsettling. Especially if you want to be alone with your thoughts. But on the plus side, he's also ready with a martini.
I missed how he thanks me for everything. Even the things that I don't think are even noticeable. He thanks me for them all. And despite everything else, this is the one that oddly enough makes me feel like a heel.
You see, I know that I don't thank him often enough for the things he gives to me. His attention. His support. His cajoling and pushing. His love.
So, maybe I'll write a little bit more about that. How he deserves better, but still seems pretty satisfied with just me.