a flood of memories
This week the memories are flooding back.
First off, I love this time of year. Love it. Not for the fact that Spring is in the air, because in the Midwest it is still winter. I love it because it is March Madness. Yes, I am a brackets JUNKIE. I check the games, highlight my pick, cross off the ones I get wrong in red. I check ESPN.com. I check the tickers and now I can check the scores via my cell phone. Oh yes, a whole new level of obsession.
Well, last year at this time I was overdue and miserable. I was tired and wanted my baby out. How cruel is that? Oh and I had a bad case of nesting fever. I worked up until 7 days before my due date. Plenty of time to clean and clean and clean. And fill out my brackets and watch hours upon hours of basketball with my feet propped up and Hubby waiting on me. Every guys dream, huh?
One of my most vivid memories of labor & delivery was packing my bracket, my highlighter and red pen. Hubby and I were watching the game and the nurse would check on me every 10 or 15 minutes. And also would come in to check the score (a local team was playing. One of 3 in the Big Dance). During the real treacherous part of labor, Hubby rubbed my back while watching the game. I sweated and moaned and could care less at that point. Yes, I missed one of my favorite teams play, but look what I got out of it. A beautiful daughter.
a compliment
Hubby has a coworker and a friend going through a pretty messy breakup. We have become pretty good friends with said coworker/friend AND his girlfriend. They have been together for a long time. Like close to 9 years long time. They lived together. Hubby and I noticed their relationship dynamics were changing, but we did not say anything. I think Hubby said things to coworker/friend, but I did not.
Well. They are not living together and she is not returning his phone calls. Messy. Icky. Not fun.
The girlfriend is also the daughter of J's sitter. I walk into the house today and start taking J's coat off and the sitter tells me that her daughter paid us a compliment. Something to the effects that she wants what Hubby and I have. I forget the exact words, but loving and respect were in there.
This made me ponder my marriage to Hubby and what was said. Out of my married/in a relationship friends, we have a pretty good thing going on. Better than good it is great. Lots of exclamation points and boldness in the word great. We still make time for one another. We still do the things we used to enjoy before J came along and we modify them to fit with her. We communicate. It isn't until you see other couples in action, that you realize the dynamics of your relationships. It has not been easy. There have been rough patches and the most memorable was when J was a newborn. We were trying to figure out our new roles as parents and as spouses. A bit rough, but we worked through it.
I just think it is nice that someone on the outside looks in and see what we have.
yay!
My daddy comes through yet again.
Hubby and I did not get opening day tickets for the local baseball team. This is the first for Hubby in over 9 or 10 years. Hubby was out of town that weekend the tickets went on sale, so it was up to me to jump online and order them. Well, they were also selling them at the stadium. At the stadium they allowed tickets to go on sale 30 minutes prior to the official start time. The internet people did not get this luxury. I was deeply disappointed and very angry at the band wagon jumpers. This season is to be good. Probably one of the best in 20 years; thus single day tickets sales skyrocketed. 98 million tickets sold. None to us.
It so happens that at my father's employer (my mom is employed there, too) they have a lotto for opening day tickets. Knowing how much it means to Hubby to go, we had 5 people enter the lottery for us. My dad won! We have GREAT seats for cheap. I am super excited. Opening day will probably be cold and possibly snowing, but I am so looking forward to it.
My daddy shows me that the little things count. He always comes through for me and he is what every little girl (or almost 30 year old) should have in a daddy.
