I wish I could be a consistent blogger again. I love putting my thoughts down because I empty out all this stuff that floats around in my brain. Life's not as slow these days and before I know it, I've collapsed into bed. I'm sure I'm not alone.
You know, marriage is not a walk in the park. I figure if Ben and I are going to be one of those sweet, old couples who still walk hand in hand when they're 90, than we have to pass through fire to get there. It's true that the things that become most important are those in which we invest the most time and emotional effort, the things we fight for. Keeping a family together, keeping a marriage strong are some of those "things."
I love my kids. I think they're pretty cool . . . okay, really cool. That doesn't mean they don't drive me bonkers sometimes! Like today. Lincoln drove me crazy. It took a lot to speak in a calm voice when I was screaming inside. Naturally, he didn't feel like the best-loved child in the family. I can honestly say that I gave my best effort to love when everything in me (except my heart) was fighting against it.
Here's the part I love. Ben walked in the door. I told him about my day (after a hug, of course). We ate dinner. The kids showered and got in bed. Ben said he'd do the dishes. I was happy to comply. I waited. Then I saw Ben take out the UNO cards. He looked at me, the kind of look a little boy gives when he really wants something. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. I certainly wasn't in the mood for UNO. Then I see Lincoln, hair combed (thanks, Ben), sit down at the table. They played a game. Lincoln won. By then I was doing the dishes because I understood what Ben was doing. And I was grateful. It was something I couldn't do. Ben's always had something special with Lincoln. Thank goodness, I say to myself. I'm just grateful that when one of us can't handle life the other quietly steps in and takes over for a little while. The role is ever-changing. As it should. I'm just really grateful.
Ben made me feel like a million bucks, too. After Lincoln went up to bed (happily), Ben sat there and looked at me doing the dishes in semi-darkness, with a grin on his face. All of a sudden I'm being serenaded. Imagine to yourselves, "Yooouuu aaaarrreee sooooo beaaauttiiffulll . . . tooo meeee . . . ." Have you ever seen Little Rascals? The voice-cracking Alfalfa, brimming with love, as he serenades Darla. That was Ben, purposely cracking all over the place, and it was so sweet in its awfulness.
He made everything alright. For both of us. And I'm counting my blessings.