Tightwad and I have been spending quite a bit of time of late examining our lives.
After a lot of yelling, crying, fighting, listening, talking, thinking, hurting and healing, we have come to several very important conclusions.
One, anything that you value in your life is worth fighting for. And nothing, NOTHING is ever easy. Anyone who says that is a liar.
Two, before you start accusing one person of things, you might want to examine yourself, and your own behaviors. (Glass houses and stones, people; glass houses and stones...)
And three, you and your spouse are just as important as the children that surprisingly arrive during this 20-year, tempestuous union. (None were planned, people. NONE. ALL are loved, and we rejoice in them- but that doesn 't mean they were planned.)
We have also committed ourselves to the decision that we will strive to be better companions, better spouses, and better parents. (Crap, I might have to start behaving myself.)
To that end, I want to share a little story from last night.
The Golden Boy (11) and I were cuddling in his bed discussing the day. It's a ritual that he insists we continue, and one that keeps me connected to what's happening in his world. (I like to call it confession time, but that's another post altogether.)
He was facing the side of the room with t.v., and I was looking at the ceiling as he talked.
"Mom, why is dad being so nice to me?" He whispered.
"What? What do you mean?"
"Why is he being so nice? He took me to that OSU basketball game last weekend when you were gone, and he's been cuddling with me at night. Why? Is something wrong?"
"No. I think he just wants to be a better father. "
There was some silence, and then I saw him wiping his eye.
"Are you crying?"
"Why? Are you okay????"
"Don't worry, mom. It's, it's a happy cry......"