Husband changed all the dead lightbulbs in the the house today and I couldn't love him more. I asked him before he left if we could get one of those lightbulb changers on a stick like I used when I worked at Gymboree because I am too short to reach the ceiling. Husband laughed at me and didn't believe me until I stood on top of the stool and was still about a foot too short (about 30 cm for you metric people.) In the last month, about five of them blew and it was getting pretty dim. Now I can see in the kitchen and I'm very happy. But I still think I need a pole because if we lose one lightbulb per week, then we'll be in the dark by Thanksgiving and Husband will still have another month before he gets home again.
The annoying thing about his being home is that I keep touching him. Let me rephrase that. I'm pretty sure that he will be annoyed with me shortly because I have to keep touching him. Not that kind of touching. Please! My mother reads this blog! No, I mean that I always have to be in the same room with him and have my hand on his shoulder or his knee, or whatever arm he's not eating/reading/using the remote with. If it were me, I would have said "enough already! I'm not going to disappear if you let go." But he's too nice and he's putting up with me quite well. Still, it's early days yet. It's not just me, either. On Sunday at church everyone wanted to sit with Daddy which was tough because there are four of us and he only has two sides, so I was on his left, one was on his right, one on his lap, and he reached his arm around me to the last one and had his hand on her shoulder.
When the children were little and I was home with them all day long with no maid service and no nanny and no grown-ups to talk to (see, I so remember what it was like), I used to have this feeling that I had a certain number of touches each day and since the children were all over me all the time, by the time Husband came home, they were all used up and I just wanted to go to sleep. That may have had something to do with the exhaustion that comes from being a mom with toddlers, now that I think about it.
Now that the children are older, I have to force them to hug me. I offer to do their hair, and they usually say no, and I tell them it just needs a little fixing but usually it's fine and I just want to play with their hair and be their mother. I am probably giving them all a complex about their hair and that is just tough because I need an excuse to touch them. I'll pay for their therapy later. Or hair extensions. Or whatever. But Husband just came in the room and I need to stop typing so I can put my hand on his shoulder.
Congressman Yoder is having a worse day than me.
Now, everyone in America and around the world knows that when he went to visit the Holy Land and saw the Sea of Galilee where Jesus Christ walked on water, he thought an appropriate thing to do would be to strip down and go skinny dipping. In the Sea of Galilee. On a tax-payer funded trip. Did I mention it was where Jesus walked on water? So thank you, Congressman, for reminding me that if I am ever lucky enough to travel to Israel I will remember to bring my bathing suit.
The annoying thing about his being home is that I keep touching him. Let me rephrase that. I'm pretty sure that he will be annoyed with me shortly because I have to keep touching him. Not that kind of touching. Please! My mother reads this blog! No, I mean that I always have to be in the same room with him and have my hand on his shoulder or his knee, or whatever arm he's not eating/reading/using the remote with. If it were me, I would have said "enough already! I'm not going to disappear if you let go." But he's too nice and he's putting up with me quite well. Still, it's early days yet. It's not just me, either. On Sunday at church everyone wanted to sit with Daddy which was tough because there are four of us and he only has two sides, so I was on his left, one was on his right, one on his lap, and he reached his arm around me to the last one and had his hand on her shoulder.
When the children were little and I was home with them all day long with no maid service and no nanny and no grown-ups to talk to (see, I so remember what it was like), I used to have this feeling that I had a certain number of touches each day and since the children were all over me all the time, by the time Husband came home, they were all used up and I just wanted to go to sleep. That may have had something to do with the exhaustion that comes from being a mom with toddlers, now that I think about it.
Now that the children are older, I have to force them to hug me. I offer to do their hair, and they usually say no, and I tell them it just needs a little fixing but usually it's fine and I just want to play with their hair and be their mother. I am probably giving them all a complex about their hair and that is just tough because I need an excuse to touch them. I'll pay for their therapy later. Or hair extensions. Or whatever. But Husband just came in the room and I need to stop typing so I can put my hand on his shoulder.
Congressman Yoder is having a worse day than me.
Now, everyone in America and around the world knows that when he went to visit the Holy Land and saw the Sea of Galilee where Jesus Christ walked on water, he thought an appropriate thing to do would be to strip down and go skinny dipping. In the Sea of Galilee. On a tax-payer funded trip. Did I mention it was where Jesus walked on water? So thank you, Congressman, for reminding me that if I am ever lucky enough to travel to Israel I will remember to bring my bathing suit.
Q: So, how many Jewish mothers does it take to change a lightbulb?
ReplyDeleteA: Don't worry about it, Dear. I'll just sit here in the dark...
xoxo,
Artemis
Artemis, you bring me joy. :-)
ReplyDeleteAnd Palmolive.
ReplyDeletexoxo,
A