Jelly Man
When it becomes obvious
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I guess you could say we had a shotgun wedding, even if it was an extremely well planned shotgun wedding - as far as shotgun weddings go, anyway. We sent in our “we aren’t mutants and we aren’t married to other people, so can we please marry each other, thankyouverymuch?!“ obligatory papers on April 20th, or at least we signed them then (LOL, 4/20!) and then didn’t hear anything back all summer. I wasn’t too worried, thinking maybe the government people were on vacation, like, a really LONG vacation. In any case, I haven’t ever actually expected to be a married woman - not in the daydreaming of white dresses, trails and multilayered cakes kind of way - not that I didn’t ever want to be married, but not hearing anything back kinda solidified it in my mind that being married was for other people, not me.
Jelly Man came home last Friday and told me he had talked to his boss about not going to work on Monday, because the car needed fixing and he wouldn’t be able to get to work until it was finished - and also not going to work on Tuesday, but not telling me why he wouldn’t go to work then, being really coy about it. I just kind of let it slide, having stuff on my mind such as Mum flying up and occupying our private space for a week and a half. When Saturday rolled around my curiosity peaked and with a little probing I got him cornered.
“Do you want to marry me on Tuesday?“ he asked.
Silly man.
Signing papers was, to me, just a formality - for all intents and purposes we have been married for a while already, the line between being boy/girlfriend and husband/wife being more of a process than a day to day transformation, and the rings that we put on each others fingers yesterday are rings that we’ve been wearing for god knows how long already. Of course I would marry him. Of course.
I didn’t expect it to actually feel so final as it did when we stood at that secular altar in the municipal office, which is located in the same building as the police station (good riddance!) and I can’t quite explain how standing in front of a stranger could make our union feel more real than when we had Carlita, but somehow it did. Maybe it’s because we are each connected to Carlita in our own way, as her mother and her father, separately, and even if we were to walk our separate ways we would always be her parents. This time, however, it was just about the two of us, despite Carlita - if that makes any sense whatsoever.
Maybe one day I will look back and feel sad that we didn’t have a grand wedding, but in many ways this ceremony was an accurate representation of us - not quite planned, but not quite accidental either, not extraordinary but special enough to bother - special to us.
And now I get the connection. And it was indeed staring me straight in the face the whole time.
Formality of forever
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
This is the woman who married us today. She looked awfully formal - so totally unlike me.
Living happily ever after, thank you very much!
Picking up the thread, but not quite where I left off
Monday, July 28, 2008
I wrote up a storm last night before getting interrupted by a guest, and instead of saving it like a good girl I left the browser window up. We popped in a DVD and half way through I was sent off to bed because I kept falling asleep. Apparently I snore or something (I do not - at least not to the best of my knowledge, and I choose to stay in denial. So there.) This morning the browser window was gone - poof! Possibly the best post ever written and it falls prey to a drunk-as-a-skunk Jelly Man who decides that his last day of rest before going back into the trenches is the best day to set himself up for a hangover on his first day of being back in the trenches. Except it appears that his fifth week of vacation was approved by the boss because no one called this morning to complain of his absence. So he is home for another week. Lets see if he is brave enough to pull the same trick next Sunday.
This past month has been such a roller coaster, yet I’m ranking it up there as possibly the best summer of my life as of yet. Parenting is really tough (no shit!) and I keep having freak outs - mostly about whether or not I am doing a good job or not, and the reason I freak out is because I think I’m doing everything wrong - but as we’ve started to set firm boundaries for Carlita, things are less freaky and more soaringly-fucking-happy. Sure, she is hitting the terrible twos (I wish I was as confident as Jane about the non-existence of the horror lovingly known as “The Terrible Twos”, but I’m failing miserably. If this is not a phase then I’m fucked!), but in between the outbursts she is, how do I put this? FUCKING BRILLIANT! Parenting is tough, yes, but the good times make it all worth the anxiety and guilt.
I was almost ready to grab her firmly by the shoulder’s, look her into the eyes and tell her to Just say something, please!? - I mean, I did it in my mind about a thousand times. But I needn’t have. She just kind of exploded in half-words, syllables and on occasion said It’s a good day, no mistake about it, one day and hasn’t let up since. I wonder though if she knew she said It’s a good day, or if it was just words to her that sounded funny rolling off the tounge. One thing is for certain though, there isn’t much she doesn’t understand these days.
I, however, have a hard time understanding her still, and I feel kind of bad about that. Aren’t I supposed to be able to understand every little grunt? God forbid, am I an “unplugged” mother for not understanding her babble? I feel like the more I get to see of her growing personality, the less I KNOW her, and the more fascinated I am with who she is turning into. There is a will in there that I can’t touch, that I don’t influence, at least not by a lot. She is who she is, regardless of me or anyone else, and I don’t know why this is a surprise to me, but it is. I guess I just never thought about that before. As if by simply being her mother I’d know her inside out from the get-go. But it’s dawning on me that I’ll never fully know all there is to know about this girl, but it’s the parts I do know that are more than enough to get me through the day.
No regrets
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
We had a fight. One of those loud and ugly affairs that leave you wondering if anything, anything at all, will ever be the same again. When even the kissing and the making up felt like an obligation rather than a happy ending to an unfortunate episode. For the first time in years I was actually worried that this would be the end, that we had lost each other in a battle of words, tears, the occasional bitch slap and slamming of doors.
I knew this morning when I wrapped my arms around him, my nose planted closely against his neck, that all the bickering in the world could not end us - but thank god we did make up, because it would be a hellish half decade coming up if we didn’t put it behind us.
I mean, won’t somebody think of the children???
So, with all of it put behind us this has been chalked up to lessons learned - perhaps more so than any other is;
Grilling? Is not something worth fighting over.
No, seriously.
