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Momentary Thought
It's warm and fuzzy, it's how I feel, and I make no apologies to you weaker-stomached readers.
High/Low
High: Getting my hair done tonight (straightened!), which means a scalp massage from my hair dresser.
Low: The impending Audit Doom of next week.
Current Obsession
Finding out the results of the appraisal.
Grin Source
Gadget, acting like the big dog he's *not*, trying to protect me from the Big Bad Appraiser Man.
Singing
Nothing, just the opening riffs to an Ozzy song playing 'round in my head.
A Year Ago
More or less
An e-mail conversation with Archibael.
Storyteller
Bio
Dramatis Personnae
Who I Read
Recipes
I never took it for granted when I was with X(m), either. There was nothing *to* take for granted. When being with him wasn't horrid, it was just blah. Young as I was, I didn't understand why, early on in our marriage, I wasn't overwhelmed with powerful feelings for him. I had power feelings toward him, or at him, or because of him. But any feelings of tenderness were quashed by lots of things, little and big. Staying out until 3:00 in the morning and refusing to say where he'd been. Refusing to hold my hand because it was a "public display of affection". "Working" at a "job" that would pay him "once it got off the ground". For a year. Buying a complete garage full of broken, dusty, useless computer bits and pieces ($1500, and wasn't the person putting on the garage sale happy), and putting it all on the floor in the living room and dining room. Without asking my input. Refusing to "allow" a television in the house, and getting violently angry at me for reading books instead of teaching myself how to sew.
You know. Those kinds of things.
I think it's because of my past relationship that I will never take Calvin for granted. He looks at me oddly because I express appreciation for a myriad of things he just considers as being a standard way of behaving for a contributing partner in a normal relationship.
He fixes everything that needs fixing, puts together anything that needs putting together, and willingly assists (read: completely does himself, practically) in any project that comes to my mind. Like moving the laundry area out to the garage. Or putting up shelves in the pantry. Or hanging pictures. Or changing a lightbulb. Or fixing the running toilet. Now, I don't mean to turn this into a comparison with X(m), but really, I have nothing else to benchmark against. X(m) did *nothing* around the house. At. All. Anything I could convince him to help out on was met with a nonstop monologue of complaint. You know, I've never heard Calvin complain at all about anything that needs to be done around the house. Even *cleaning*. He just takes on the attitude of keeping his head down and hammering through it until it's done.
That in particular comes to mind because last night we were involved in a flurry of housecleaning. The appraiser was coming (did come, today), so we had to make the place look nice. From 4:15 until well after 6:00, Calvin was in the back yard making it presentable. This involved, among other things, raking rocks. And he was in just as good of a mood (albeit, a tired one) when he was done, as he was before he started. *And* he cleaned the upstairs bathroom. *And* he cleaned the counters and appliances in the kitchen. *And* he dusted the entertainment center.
Hey, I did stuff too, and so did Marie, so don't get the impression that he did it all. He's a wonderful man, but a Saint he ain't. He may qualify as time goes on, though. ~grin~
I didn't realize how comforting it is to be able to reach out at any time to a person and have that person reach back to you. Every single time. And sometimes intercept you halfway because they were reaching for you at the same time you were reaching for them. My hand will always be held, always, whenever I need it to be.
That is just something else. And it's not that lame, limp-fish, fine-I'll-hold-your-stupid-hand-for-the-minimum-time-allotment-there-now-that's-enough-pat-pat kind of hand holding, either. He rubs my fingers. He massages my palm. He tickles the back of my hand. Calvin is the A-#1 supreme hand holder of the universe. I even caught him swinging our arms as we strolled around Mill Avenue this weekend. That's what the world needs, more joyful hand holders.
This total partnership is another thing I'm getting used to, still. Someone that I can absolutely count on to pull his weight, and sometimes more than his weight, when it's needed. For instance, I was worried about having enough money for Christmas. Calvin volunteered to work on Thanksgiving, just to make the overtime and take that stress off of me.
That just floors me. Absolutely floors me.
So those overwhelming feelings I didn't have for X(m), I have for Calvin in full force. I write him love letters. I call him goofy pet names. I give him massages. I love him as hard as I can and show it as much as I can, and I still feel like I'm not even scratching the surface. And he says he feels the same about me, like he can't love me hard enough, or say "I love you" often enough.
Even now, I feel like I'm leaving out so many things that I love and appreciate about him. I know I am, but I'm sure there's a limit to how much warm-fuzziness you all can take before it reaches toxic levels.
Maybe that's the secret. As long as we both feel like, as much as we do, it's not an adequate demonstration of how we love each other, we'll continue to be all that we are to one another. We'll keep trying to find ways to convey to the other person just how we feel.
I will never, ever take for granted...
Bubble baths on Sunday mornings.
Reading the newspaper in bed.
Having my back tickled as I fall asleep at night.
Foot snuggling under the covers.
Surprise trips to the zoo.
Going out for breakfast.
The way his eyelashes rest against his cheeks when he sleeps.
The smell of his skin.
Hearing him laugh from the next room.
Making him laugh.
A dozen phone calls throughout the day just to say "I love you".
Watching his face in profile while we're driving somewhere.
The funny way he plays the steering wheel like a guitar, to Van Halen or Ozzy.
Conversations that last for hours. Followed by companionable silence.
Being tickled until my stomach hurts from laughing so much.
How he asks if I want anything, every time he gets up to go to the kitchen.
Stuff that I won't mention on this PG rated site. Lots of stuff.
Cooking together.
Dancing around all goofy to the Bee Gee's.
Being consulted on every decision, big or small. That's still incredibly novel to me.
Never having to worry about being met with negativity when I express my feelings or have an idea.
The way he'll pull me down off my tiptoes, and instead bend down a little, when we hug.
Love, being reflected back at me, every time he looks at me. Dear God, I am so lucky.