Vows, Whines, Sniffles, Smiles

Lately I am having trouble keeping my vows. Not the 'until death do us part' or the 'for richer or for poorer' ones. I am struggling to be faithful to the 'I will love you even when you're cranky and I'm overtired' ones, which I take as a subset of the 'In sickness and in health' principal queen mother vow. Yeah, I'm not really that into that vow right now. Much easier to just tend to your own crankiosity or overtiredness than actually have to pretend like you care extend the mercy to your beloved. But that is why we make vows. To remind us that marriage is still in session even when the feelings that moved us to marry are absent, even when the marriageable parts of ourselves are malfunctioning, even when we haven't slept in three straight days. ***

Been a rough week for the Loverpants family. Our car died on the NY freeway. She just sort of pooped out like an elephant that was all lifting her legs and trunk, doing the elephant walk with all the rest of the Dumbos, and then she just said, mid-circus ring, "Meh, I'm kinda tired of this, I'm just going to go crouch down over here." The hand of God was provident, and a friend was just behind us on that very highway headed back to Boston. So she picked up the babe and me. Loverpants had to stay in NY for 3 more days until our vehicle was all ship-shaped, and thanks go out especially to Saint Albert, Saint Heather, and Saint Carl for taking such good care of him during his unexpected furlough in Rochester.

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Appreciate your kind words about my Nana. If she cannot take food on her own by end of week, I think the final days are imminent. I understand she is more lucid now that she is in the comforts of home, thouh, which is a small but not insignificant comfort to me.

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I keep looking at these pictures of Baby Girl that Saint Albert took over the weekend.  They're like cotton candy even when you're stuck with the stadium seat with no overhang in the rain.

Quinoa

The Loverpants family has been heatedly debating the pronunciation of quinoa. I side with Lady Merriam. Keen-wah. Loverpants sides with himself and the indigenous Peruvians. Kin-oh-e. With a schwa on the e, right? Schwa. Love that. Totally not useful but for 2nd grade reading group. Ultimately, I think it's a tomato, tomahhtohh non-debate, but my husband and I have been annoying the ever living snot out of one another over the orthodox pronunciation of this protein-rich grain that sort of sicks me out in the shape it takes when it is cooked. It curly-q's and shreds and looks like something that hangs around the shower drain at the municipal pool. It's just not very pretty.

Quinoa aside, I feel like I'm frittering away a lot of time that should be spent on drafting syllabi for this here Comp course and oh that 3 hour journalism course I'm teaching at Small Local College this fall. You know those classes that begin in one week (?!).

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We're going to a wedding this weekend for our friends Em and Brett. I am so excited they're getting wedded. I think they may be our only friends to remain in Boston as long as we have, with the exception of my former roommate. Huzzah and Mazel Tov all around.

Em hearts Baby Girl very much.

Brett doesn't mind her either.

Fourthaversary

Loverpants and I were lying in bed last night. Possibly half nekkid. Talking about the past. Oh yes, it was just that sultry.

We counted back all the summers we had been together, where we traveled, what jobs we had held (or not held), where we had lived. We covered a lot of territory. At one point, Loverpants was recalling this one summer where I visited him in Boston (I didn't live here yet) and we stopped in front of the reflecting pool at Christian Science headquarters and I had a total meltdown. "There were some tears there," he said. Of course there were. Because he was TOTALLY going to break up with me that weekend I KNEW IT FOR SURE so why didn't he just PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY and DO IT NOW?!?

The boy had no plans of breaking anything off that weekend. I mean, sure, after I moved here and wrote the book on How to Be the High-Maintenance Girlfriend Down the Street, well, yes, then he justifiably considered parting ways. But I lathered him in Twizzlers and kisses and nine years later, well, look where we are.

I guess the point, and not an elaborate one but just one that takes me a long time to make EVIDENTLY is that I'm so glad that when I cry these days, it's really for a good reason. Happy tears because Baby Girl started a sentence with "My mommy..." Sad tears because my uncle died. Angry tears because I'm not getting through to my husband about something sort of monumental. Like you know, don't leave the highchair tray in the sink too long 'cause when I turn on the faucet I instantly enter a wet T-shirt contest if you know what I mean....

Marking our fourth anniversary to me does not mean eradication of anxiety or insecurity. But I'm so glad to be where we are now in our relationship, to be in love and to be hopeful for four times four times four times four more anniversaries.

Love my Lovey Loverpants!

Reminds me of our family...