Monday, April 23, 2012

Kind of pathetic post about love

Every Monday, I'm a little bit sad that the weekend's over and Jeff has to go back to work. Actually, I'm a lot sad. It seems like we just never have enough time together!

I was thinking about this a lot a couple weekends ago when Jeff was in Birmingham to take his two-day engineering test. He was gone for two nights, and it just wasn't the same around here. I know a ton of people spend a lot of time apart, to travel for their jobs, to get away, to visit friends or family separately, or to just change things up a little. I could only come up with a couple times that Jeff and I have spent the night apart in the almost-three years that we've been married: I was away for two roller derby bouts and once to visit my mom, and Jeff was away for a baseball game and a golf outing. There might be a couple other times in there, but I can't remember. But we're not those people who need time away. We spend all our time together, but still we don't get tired of each other. (Even on vacation. You know that's love, when you can spend almost every minute of a whole week together––and like it.)

Back when I was in college, my roommate and I always talked about how we thought we'd know it when we met the guys we would marry. We thought a pretty good indication would be to date guys we liked more than they liked us. It seems true. Before meeting Jeff, I definitely didn't date anyone I was just crazy about; their affection for me seemed unreal in its intensity, since I could never quite return it. It all kind of seemed silly (easier to say in retrospect, of course, but still true). I feel pretty certain that the depth of my love and appreciation for Jeff exceeds anything I'd previously imagined or thought possible.

When we were engaged, all the time people were telling me how Jeff and I would have all these horrible, epic newlywed fights that would bring us closer together. Ha ha ha! We've maybe had a couple times where we've had some annoying miscommunication resulting in both of us being ticked off...but still waiting on those fights. (Tip: Don't try to talk to each other when you're in different rooms. It's hard to hear and easy to not catch all the words. Tip, part two: Don't try to talk to each other when the baby is screeching loudly. Wait till he's a little quieter.)

Once we were married, all the time we said, "Ha ha! We're married! How great is that! We're such grownups!" It was great eating supper together and then not having to have one of us drive home. We were already home!

Now we say, "Ha ha! We're married! We have a baby! A baaay-bee! Best baby in the world! We're such grownups!" And what a great excuse to hang out together at home even more. It makes me think of that Alabama song: "She and I live in our own little world, don't worry about the world outside. She and I agree, she and I lead a perfectly normal life. Ah, but just because we aren't often seen socially, people think we've got something to hide. But all our friends know we're just a little old-fashioned. Oh, ain't it great, ain't it fine to have a love, someone that others can't find. Ain't it wonderful to know all we ever need is just the two of us, she and I."

One of the things that I like best about Jeff is that he's always the same. Every day, I know I can count on him. Plus, he says witty things. And knows what I'm talking about even if it wouldn't make sense to anyone else. And he's not overly emotional. Some people might like their men to be more emotive, but stoic works well, too. Yay for manly men. Also, he's good at grammar, so grammar jokes are usually not lost on him. (These are important points.) His faith is strong. But so, so important is that Jeff is the same as when we met; he's always there and always dependable.

I'm so thankful that God has given us each other and kept strengthening and deepening our love for each other. But I'd really like extra weekends, too!

Friday, April 13, 2012

Easter weekend

Last weekend was great, and it felt like it lasted a week. Friday I got to go to the Good Friday church service, thanks to Matt's bedtime of 6:30 p.m. and church start time of 7. This was a good follow-up to Maundy Thursday church, which I also got to attend.

On Saturday, we went to an egg hunt for babies and toddlers at someone's house. Matthew "found" two eggs with Jeff's help, and I drank delicious iced coffee. That's saying something, since I usually dislike cold coffee, even if it's intentional. We admired all the other babies and tried to keep them from pulling each others' hair and whatnot while chatting with some other parents. Then Matt napped, Jeff studied, and I had some lawnmowing fun. Mowing the lawn is pretty much the best chore ever, other than raking leaves, but we don't have many leaves, so...

Then Sunday was Easter! Best holiday ever! Jesus has saved us! What could be better? (Nothing! That's the answer. Nothing can be better.)

The church service was great, as always. Matthew was less screechy than usual, which was nice for us. After church, he roamed free, crawling around. Unfortunately, his pants and diaper also fell down, so a bunch of people saw baby butt in church. Oops. That's what happens, I suppose, when we put him in a disposable diaper instead of the bulkier cloth but still dress him in his usual size pants.

After church, I wanted to go for a bike ride while Jeff was studying and Matt napping. But, of course, argh! My nemesis - bike maintenance - struck again! For some reason, my bike's back tire was flat, though I'd just fixed it not too long ago and hadn't even ridden it since then. AND, the bike trailer had a flat tire, too. Changing bike tubes is my least favorite thing ever. It's really the worst. I know what to do, and I know how to do it, I'm just really, really terrible at the execution of it. It takes me forever and hurts my fingers and generally is frustrating. Also, I snapped one of those little plastic prying tool thingies. So with tears in my eyes, I told Jeff I was giving up on biking and never going again and feeling pretty sure that it would be worth it to give up biking to never have to do any type of bike repair again. But...

Jeff to the rescue! He doesn't really like biking, and he hasn't really done any bike things, but he still saved the day. He's the new bike maintenance guy in our household. He fixed my tire by the time I got home with a new tube for the bike trailer, then fixed that. All while Matthew was still asleep. Success! So the three of us got to go for a spin around the neighborhood before finishing off the day with a delicious Easter feaster of ham and potatoes and green bean casserole, etc, that I whipped up pretty much at the last minute.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Roller derby!

Woohoo! I can't wait for practice tonight! So I rejoined roller derby last week after getting the all-clear from the surgeon, and I'm so excited about it. I practiced last Sunday and Monday. Sunday was an easy outdoor skate. Monday––scrimmage! What? I know! I went through my basic skills successfully, then right into scrimmage! First time hitting people since September 2010, by my best guess.

Some things I learned:
I am not afraid of getting hit. Or hitting. You'd think this is something that a person would fear after so much time away. I was a little nervous at first, but it all came back quickly.

I am super slow. Keeping up with the pack is tough after months of inactivity.

Taking a year and a half off scrimmaging made me feel like I'd never played before in the sense that it's so fast! All the action is happening at once! So many places to look!

Oh, how I love my teammates. Practice was so focused. It felt very goal-oriented and "team-y."

New skates don't break themselves in.

Only five more hours!

Monday, April 2, 2012

Not going to work, miscellaneous

I feel like I have some more to say on the topic of not going to work that doesn't fit nicely with the last post.

When Jeff and I were engaged, we weren't sure yet where we'd live or work. We decided that whoever got the higher-paying job would probably be the one to keep the job if we had kids. The other one would stay home. And he got a job first, so...

I do still work. Having a job that pays me for what I do rather than for the hours I put in and that I can do at home on my own schedule, within deadlines of course, is ideal. I like it a lot. So in that sense, we're doubly blessed because I still have something to do that's just for me, that keeps me from getting super bored when Matt's sleeping, and I get paid.

But... I would definitely give that up if it required me to make other arrangements for Matthew during the day. It would be worth it to not work at all. Even without a second income, I keep thinking about all the money we're saving by not having to pay for: childcare, transportation to work for me, work clothes for me, formula and associated supplies, and disposable diapers (apparently most childcare places insist on that).

I'm not sure it would be worth it to spend more to make more. Money is so overrated. I've had a couple people (chiropractor, acquaintance, random other person I met) tell me that I should get someone to watch Matthew or put him in daycare for a day or two a week so I can work more. I just politely smile and thank them for their suggestion, then feel thankful that we don't have to do that. I'd rather cut back on buying some stuff or increase the number of years we'll be paying our mortgage than cut back on the time I get to spend with my baby.

A saying that's alternately inspiring and infuriating comes to mind: "You always have time for the things you put first."

Not going to work is great

I've been thinking about how last year at this time, I was getting ready to quit my part-time quality control testing/technical writing job. I feel like I'm finally settling in to the fact that I'll probably not be going to an office to do work for a long time. And it's finally starting to not feel weird. A year ago, I was typing up lists of all my job duties and descriptions of how to do them for whoever replaced me. My boss was forwarding resumes for me to sort through and almost daily bemoaning how they'd never be able to find someone to take my place and do as good a job. And as much as I liked to hear that, it really also made things a lot more difficult later on. And from the state of those job applications and the unintelligible phone calls I answered (though the ad said No Phone Calls), I could believe it. And I sure liked my coworkers. It was probably my favorite job just because everyone was so great: efficient, polite, friendly, and funny! So I was sad to be leaving.

But a few months later, Matthew was born! Yay! And then how I wished so hard I could just go to work some days. It would have been so much easier, so much more restful, than staying home with a tiny baby with mysterious wants and needs and erratic behaviors, including all types of crying and little noises and naptimes and diaper messes. And it was just so boring being at home. Boring + exhausting. I wished so much I could just not have to be in charge. Someone else could do such a better job! And they neeeeeddded me at work! They did! I'm so good at tasks! Give me a list, and I can do all the things! I can do them all better than you! But taking care of a baby... ugh. No lists there. I think I made some lists, actually, that said things like, Feed Matthew. Change Matthew. Cuddle Matthew. Wash diapers. Eat lunch.

Really, I thought all the time how I was failing at taking care of Matt––not physically, not failing him in any way, but just failing at being a mom in general because it was so boring and I wanted to be somewhere else. I don't think I spent a single hour gazing at him adoringly or counting his tiny fingers and toes or dressing him up in one cute outfit after another––you know, all the things that new moms are allegedly supposed to do because they are just so in love with their tiny baby and enjoying every minute. (Ha ha. That phrase is a joke in itself.) But of course, I did love staying home with him every day at least part of the time. Who can resist hanging out with a baby all day? And how great it was when Jeff got home at the end of the day or when people came over to visit!

But still, it was hard to feel any type of satisfaction since my whole life I've been evaluated, and to some extent validated, by the quality of my professional work. I mean, I went to school for a reason, right? People just don't put the same value on the work that parents who stay home with their kids do as that produced in the workplace, and if they do, I've certainly not heard about it myself that often. Especially before having a baby. Measures of success in our society, as widely discussed, are generally work related. (Brief example: A lot of female students at Auburn in the freshman composition classes that I and other grad students taught openly stated that they were at college to meet a guy, settle down, and start a family. Oh, the scoffing that ensued from the grad students on this topic. To be fair, if a guy said he aspired to start a family and settle down rather than excel in whatever profession he chose, he'd probably be scoffed at, too, possibly as sexist––or lauded for being so honest and caring, I suppose.)

So all that to say that I struggled so hard to think that the "work" I was doing at home taking care of Matthew was equal to the work I could be doing writing technical documents and mailing packages and editing user manuals and testing laser equipment. But now! Gah! What was I thinking?! (Double punctuation: you know it's serious.) My old company didn't nnnneeeeeddd me, no matter how much they said so, no matter how good of work I produced. My replacement may not be great, or may be much, much better, but certainly I'm replaceable either way. It's not going to matter at all if the next user manual goes out with bunches of typos or a ridiculous numbering system. If quality control doesn't catch something, the customer will just have to send the system back in for repair. No big deal.

But Matthew. He's a whole different story. I'm not replaceable to him. He could, of course, get used to having someone else take care of him all day, or for parts of days, or at least for a couple hours sometimes during the week. And since kids are so adaptable, he'd be fine. But now I realize––and fully accept––that no one else will do as good a job as I am (or as Jeff would do) since he's our baby! He's ours! Yay! And I get to hang out with him and teach him things and try to think of games that will make him giggle. (Of course, it's much easier to say this now that he's fun and not just a cute, immobile baby lump who eats, sleeps, pees, and cries.)

I'm glad I've made it past those first couple months where it seemed so much easier to go back to work and get someone else to do this hard work taking care of a baby. It's so rewarding now, even when it isn't. Even when it's boring or difficult or maddening, I'm still happy to be here, at home, to keep making it through to the rolling-on-the-floor-laughing-at-nothing moments.