First, business: Today is my mom’s birthday; Happy Birthday, MOM! Love You!
Now on to the blog:
We had a nice Christmas, although it seems that the traditions I cling to don’t hold the same comfort and joy for my boys. I love to watch the old Christmas cartoons and specials that have been around since I was a kid – Frosty, Rudolph, The Grinch, A Christmas Carol and It’s a Wonderful Life. But, every time I suggested that we watch one of these beloved favorites of mine, the boys would whine, “No mom, that’s boring! Can’t we just watch Transformers?” And Christmas music? Forget about that. There’s no Holiday collection that can compete with the GameCube and Mario Party 6.
First, business: Today is my mom’s birthday; Happy Birthday, MOM! Love You!
Now on to the blog:
We had a nice Christmas, although it seems that the traditions I cling to don’t hold the same comfort and joy for my boys. I love to watch the old Christmas cartoons and specials that have been around since I was a kid – Frosty, Rudolph, The Grinch, A Christmas Carol and It’s a Wonderful Life. But, every time I suggested that we watch one of these beloved favorites of mine, the boys would whine, “No mom, that’s boring! Can’t we just watch Transformers?” And Christmas music? Forget about that. There’s no Holiday collection that can compete with the GameCube and Mario Party 6.
So, when Chuck offered to take the boys out on Christmas Eve to do a little last minute shopping and check things at the office (Bob Cratchett sans Scrooge), I took the opportunity to blast the XM Holiday tunes through the surround sound and enjoy a little seasonal magic. After a couple of hours though, I realized that I missed my guys terribly and that the real Holiday Magic was the love we share in our little family unit and that when we’re all together, I’m at peace with the world.
Peace, that is, until Chuck asks if I’d paid the Citibank bill.
Now, one sure way to make me tense is to bring up bills after we’ve just blown too much money on presents. “No, I thought YOU were paying the Citibank bill.”
“I didn’t pay it; I thought YOU were going to pay the bill.”
“How much is the bill?”
Lots.
Crap.
“No Florida?” Each year for the past several years we’ve driven to Florida between Christmas and New Years to visit Chuck’s dad.
“No Florida.”
“So,” says Chuck, “I guess I’ll take on the responsibility of managing our money. I’m already working 18 hours a day trying to build a business, but I can probably squeeze in a little time for Quicken.”
Dramatic pause. Note what’s next: How to make your wife feel 2 inches tall.
He continues, “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. You just go ahead and home school the boys and chat in your <i>Writer’s Forum</i> – those two things seem to be all consuming.”
It didn’t occur to me until later, while I was on my knees cleaning pee off the floor around the toilet for the third time in one day, that his comment was derisive and unfair.
“Listen, Chuck,” I began, no longer just 2 inches tall but with feet firmly planted on a really high soapbox, “You just remember that in addition to home schooling the boys, and working on my writing, there’s not a toilet that gets cleaned, a floor that gets swept, a dish that gets washed, a load of laundry that gets bleach stained, a lawn that gets raked, or a meal that gets cooked unless I TAKE THE TIME TO DO IT MYSELF. And, frankly, I resent your remark about my all-consuming schedule.”
There, I let him have it.
“Well,” he answers without a blink, “I guess instead of picking home schooling the boys and writing, what I meant to say was ‘you focus on cleaning pee off the floor and washing dishes, I'll take care of the finances!’”
At this we both broke into laughter. And, you see, that is the beauty of our marriage. We can have a moment like this and then laugh at ourselves. We love each other, trust each other, submit to each other, and forgive each other. We are perfect together and, God willing, our boys will be blessed without ever fully knowing how blessed they are.
In the end we paid the bill, had a very Merry Christmas and I’m looking forward to a happy New Year.