Month Sixty-Three

Anniversary

Dear Husband,

Earlier this year, I glossed over our anniversary. I wrote about ovens and rain and mundane things that were I guess uppermost in my mind at the end of the month. I wasn’t remembering that towards the beginning of August was the day that marked five years of us being married to each other.

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But I have been thinking about it recently. Especially as several couples of our acquaintance have been having marital difficulties. Both ones that have been married but a few years and also ones that have been married for many. Each marriage is unique of course, with its own set of challenges and obstacles, but from the outside, some of the language sounds the same.

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The words “divorce” and “leave” and “go” and “can’t” have all been spoken or at least considered. And impressions of enough and over and empty and gone start to exist where satisfaction and happiness and love once reigned. What occurred to me though, and what I wanted to tell you, was that those things haven’t occurred to me.

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We have had our share of ups and downs in the last five years. We have been through some stressful times together. We have also been through some big changes. You may have irritated the crap out of me on occasion just as I have frustrated you but not having you there as my husband has never been a potential solution to any problem. There are times that I need my space, sure, but I have never wished you gone permanently. I have never thought my life would be better or fuller or easier if you were not in it on a full-time basis and I wanted you to know that.

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As we have both agreed on several occasions, we balance each other out. Your intuition to my sense, your feeling to my thinking. We can both be independent people and fortunately, we are not so bound up in each other that we cease to function effectively when we’re apart. However, I do find that I have better balance when you are there and sometimes by just knowing you will be.

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It can take me a while to get comfortable arriving some place new. I don’t like not knowing what my path ahead looks like and I can be disconcerted by feeling exposed on the way when I must actively participate in my route. I can be a creature of habit, I know, and asking me to change the plan in my head on the spur of the moment doesn’t always work. I am not sure exactly where I am going with this except to say that despite the fact that you may think I constantly shut you down, I do listen to you, I do heed your advice and I do trust you. It may just look a little different through my eyes…What looks the same for both of us though are these pictures across the years that we have been together.

Happy (belated) anniversary Dear Husband, here endeth the schmaltz, I’m yours,

Your Loving Wife

 

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Week 96

september-2Dear Genevieve,

You are turning into a very chatty young lady at times. Albeit with lots of single words. You haven’t quite grasped the concept of phrases yet, let alone sentences, but you are certainly putting multiple ideas together. We took you to the zoo this month and it made quite an impact. Ever since that day, whenever we have a quiet moment (usually when we are trying to put you to bed) you tell us all about it.

“Zoo. Se-al. Watch. Ball. Nose. Se-al. Nose. Zoo. E(le)phants. S(l)eeping.”. Words are sentences in and of themselves with a clear pause between each one. Important words are repeated for emphasis and “seal” clearly has two syllables. We dutifully confirm that yes, we went to the zoo and watched the seal show. We saw one balance a ball on his nose and we also saw the elephants sleeping. You then tell us everything again, just to make sure that we didn’t miss anything the first time around. You are very serious when you want to make sure we understand something. It’s quite cute. When it’s not well after bedtime.

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You do like to chat before going to bed though and apparently when you are somewhat delirious. You had a fever earlier this month and you were going non-stop for quite a few minutes there. I didn’t really have any idea what you were talking about at the time but you sounded like you were having an in depth conversation. This is as opposed to the single word command that is becoming somewhat of a constant refrain in our house.

When we are dressing you each morning, when we are drying your hair or pretty much when we do anything to you or for you we are starting to get “self!” or it’s close cousin “No… Self!”. We are actually all for you becoming independent and doing as much for yourself as possible but sometimes it is a little frustrating when it is something we truly believe is beyond your capability. Like clicking yourself into your car seat or putting on a nappy. It is also inconvenient if we have failed to add in the Genevieve factor when we are scheduling the process of getting out of the house in our heads. We have these wonderful plans where we think we will actually be on time for something (for once) and then we run into the self. The self that trips us up. The self that requires time.

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And that’s really what you want at the moment. You want time. With us. When you are awake and it seems even when you are asleep. After your fever earlier this month and after the spectacular diahhorea that followed it (and it was spectacular – six nappies in two hours!..wet ones…like the poo was just sloshing around in them…very gross) you were consistently ending up in our bed. You were happy as a lark during the day with no outward appearance of being ill but you were unsettled at night. So much so that your father and I started to struggle with the lack of sleep and peace. We would therefore eventually cave and bring you in with us. Where you would almost immediately fall sound asleep! Horizontally across the bed. While your father and I would be twisted at odd angles or suffering dead limbs so we didn’t disturb you…I think we may have just created a rod for our own backs and can see some hard love and sucking it up in our future to get you accustomed to a full night in your own bed again. Sigh.

But for all the times and behaviours that frustrate us or baffle us, there are just as many that completely enchant us. You currently have a newfound delight for the “clapping song” and “rock-a-bye your bear”. The “clapping song” is in actuality Billy Joe McGuffrey off the Vegie Tales soundtrack. You ask for this song ALL THE TIME when you are in the car and whenever it comes on (or we switch the track for you), your whole face lights up with pure joy that beams out with the force of a thousand suns. This song is apparently that good. Besides, clapping can be done in your car seat. The rock-a-bye your bear song is one that you have known for ages (it was a “tadpoles” song last year at the kindy Christmas event) but you have a fresh appreciation for performing the actions. We had an audience for our impromptu duet in Canberra one night and some strangers thought you were just too adorable.

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I actually think you are adorable when you find things funny. I noticed this month that you would occasionally chuckle away to yourself when you were watching Postman Pat or Shaun the Sheep. With no person to mirror or react against, you would genuinely sit there and giggle at the antics within the claymations. It was quite charming. As is when you count in numbers or recount your colours. The numbers thing is rote, I know. You can’t actually count to four. Or rather, you don’t really have a concept of what four is but you can genuinely identify a bunch of colours which is apparently on the advanced side for your age.

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Whenever you draw with your crayons (another passtime high on the like list), you will pick out many different colours to put to the page. Or pass them to us and make us draw with you. Or perhaps that was merely draw you. Not a picture of you but rather an outline of your hands or feet. You really like having your hands and feet traced at the moment. You are also not adverse to having them drawn on either I should add. There was one night this month when your father and I were having a proper conversation whilst getting you ready for bed and we made the mistake of taking our eyes off you for a couple of seconds only to realise that you were happily drawing all over your feet in indelible ink! Cheeky bugger.

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But you are on the whole a delight and your father is VERY sorry that he shut your finger in the car door. He has also felt suitably chastised every time you held your finger up over the next week and said “car” in a sad little voice. Which was relatively often. Way to go twisting him around your little finger, kid. You are ok though. We checked. You were NOT IMPRESSED when we tried to get it x-rayed as this scared the bejeezus out of you but you are ok and no lasting harm was done. At least to your finger. Apparently you only like to be scared when things are a “surprise” like your father sneaking up on you multiple times within a short window of time. You don’t like the fear that you might be eaten alive or tortured by strange machines. Which means you could possibly grow to have a love-hate relationship with amusement parks. So take my advice, you may love the rides but stay away from the horror houses and fright nights.

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Alles Liebe,

Lexelah