Life is exhausting.
Yesterday, Tim had surgery on his ankle to correct three problems that has lead his 31-year-old ankle to that of a 65-year-old man's. It was the first time in our over 11 year marriage that he's been the one in the hosptial bed instead of me. It was awful. Scary. Nerve-wracking.
Ankle surgery really doesn't sound like a big deal, especially when you consider all our family has been through. No major organs are being cut up and the patient usually gets to go home the same day. I tried to explain this to Tim in the couple weeks before his surgery though it didn't seem to calm his fears much. The only other time he's had surgery was when he was a kid (which he doesn't remember) so of course the fears of the unknown were exagerated: his allergies to medicine, the unknown reactions to anesthesia. I kept my mind in work and home matters and didn't really give it much of a thought... until they took him back to the operating room.
Except when Tim sprained his ankle 4 years ago and a few days with the flu, he's always been the one that takes care of me and the kids when we're sick. He's strong and usually knows how to put up a front when he's worried about one of us medically. The first time Kharter was severly sick and vomitting, I panicked and he kept a calm, cool, collected attitude. I tried to do the same for him this week. I think for the most part I was successful.
As I sat in the lobby I tried to preoccupy myself with a book, loud music and Facebook from the iPod. The surgery was supposed to take an hour. All of my preoccupations worked until it had been almost two hours and he was still listed as in surgery on the patient tracking monitor. All the fears crept into my head and started to terrify me. I couldn't help but remember how difficult it was to see my dad in the hospital. The man I remembered never being sick or injured; until he started to die of cancer. The similaries in Tim and my dad are uncanny. They look nothing alike though if you put Tim and my brother-in-law Jerry together, you have my dad. I guess what they say is true, women really do marry their fathers. But, if that's true, does that mean we'll have the same ending?
I turned the music up louder.
Alas, surgery was over and I was walking back to his post-op room. I was so relieved to see him though he was, of course, still waking up and not "with it". He looked up at me and said, "My ankle hurts." I couldn't help but giggle and say, "I'm not surprised."
The surgery went as planned. They were able to make the neccesary corrections and though he will only recover to about 70%, he will recover. And now, I'm charged with taking care of him as he has taken care of me. I am up for the challenge.
I hope I do a better job this time.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Fears coming false
I had just had a short but good conversation with a co-worker when I went back to my office to shut down for the day. As I sat down to wake up my computer to save and close my files, I heard my daughter laughing (my cell phone ring tone). It was Tim. I glanced at the time; he never usually calls this close to the end of my work day. I answer.
"Hi! Do you have a minute?" He says to me. "You'll never believe what happened today!" My heart stops. What could have possibly happened since I spoke to him a few hours earlier? Did the IRS come knocking at our door to announce an audit? Did the house catch on fire? Did he get a job offer?! No. None of the above.
As he starts to tell me his story my mind is still anxious. Lately, I'm always afraid of when the next axe will fall in our lives. Tim's story begins.
"Well, the doorbell rang. As I got up to answer the door and they were continually knocking, knocking, ringing, knocking. I answered the door and this little boy (4 years old) says hi and starts to barge in the door! He said he goes to school with a boy that lives here."
His mother, I'm sure mortified just as we would have been, apologizes and explains they were going for a walk when her son, Zach, just had to come to the door. Tim, still not quite sure what was happening, instinctively blocks the door with his leg to keep him from running away from his mother and into the house with strange barking dogs and three wondering children (one of which is running around in his underwear, as usual).
Zach manages to break past Tim's 6' 4" frame and runs into the house. (The force is strong in this one.) Tim welcomes his mother and sister inside. Of course, at this point in the story, I'm still not sure what is going on. I hang on every word Tim says. We've been told that Ryen, for the most part, ignores all the children in his class. He does engage in parallel play but has not really engaged with his peers. Last I heard, the other children in his class had learned to "tolerate" him but do not interact much with him either.
I wonder if Zach is upset with Ryen. Did Ryen take a toy from him at school today? Did he barge in our house to hit him? What would make him so anxious to get inside?
Tim turns around just in time to see Zach meet up with Ryen as he walks from the office into the living room. Zach stretches his arms out. He wraps them around our son giving him a giant bear hug. I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear Tim smile through his voice. Our boy has a friend!
Ryen doesn't return the hug but doesn't push him away either. They start to play for a minute while Tim introduces himself to his mother. Ryen starts humming, screaming, grunting. Tim looks up to her with a hesitant grin, "Ryen has Autism. That's why he's making those sounds." She replies with a giggle, "Oh no problem, Zach has ADHD if you couldn't tell." They both smile.
Zach wanted to stay and play though his mother explained all the things she still had left to do before dinner. She had only intended to take a short walk. The two minute visit was about to end. With Tim still in a daze, he thanks them for stopping by as he walks them to the door.
It's difficult to believe that an unknown, 4-year-old boy, who pounded on our door and barged into our home, scaring his mother, confusing Tim and the kids (and the dogs), and had me on edge over the phone--worried of how the story was going to end; a boy who has brought me to tears as I write and one whom I have not yet had the privilege to meet, has now become one of my favorite people. My heart has melted. He is my son's friend...
I hope they go for another walk soon.
"Hi! Do you have a minute?" He says to me. "You'll never believe what happened today!" My heart stops. What could have possibly happened since I spoke to him a few hours earlier? Did the IRS come knocking at our door to announce an audit? Did the house catch on fire? Did he get a job offer?! No. None of the above.
As he starts to tell me his story my mind is still anxious. Lately, I'm always afraid of when the next axe will fall in our lives. Tim's story begins.
"Well, the doorbell rang. As I got up to answer the door and they were continually knocking, knocking, ringing, knocking. I answered the door and this little boy (4 years old) says hi and starts to barge in the door! He said he goes to school with a boy that lives here."
His mother, I'm sure mortified just as we would have been, apologizes and explains they were going for a walk when her son, Zach, just had to come to the door. Tim, still not quite sure what was happening, instinctively blocks the door with his leg to keep him from running away from his mother and into the house with strange barking dogs and three wondering children (one of which is running around in his underwear, as usual).
Zach manages to break past Tim's 6' 4" frame and runs into the house. (The force is strong in this one.) Tim welcomes his mother and sister inside. Of course, at this point in the story, I'm still not sure what is going on. I hang on every word Tim says. We've been told that Ryen, for the most part, ignores all the children in his class. He does engage in parallel play but has not really engaged with his peers. Last I heard, the other children in his class had learned to "tolerate" him but do not interact much with him either.
I wonder if Zach is upset with Ryen. Did Ryen take a toy from him at school today? Did he barge in our house to hit him? What would make him so anxious to get inside?
Tim turns around just in time to see Zach meet up with Ryen as he walks from the office into the living room. Zach stretches his arms out. He wraps them around our son giving him a giant bear hug. I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear Tim smile through his voice. Our boy has a friend!
Ryen doesn't return the hug but doesn't push him away either. They start to play for a minute while Tim introduces himself to his mother. Ryen starts humming, screaming, grunting. Tim looks up to her with a hesitant grin, "Ryen has Autism. That's why he's making those sounds." She replies with a giggle, "Oh no problem, Zach has ADHD if you couldn't tell." They both smile.
Zach wanted to stay and play though his mother explained all the things she still had left to do before dinner. She had only intended to take a short walk. The two minute visit was about to end. With Tim still in a daze, he thanks them for stopping by as he walks them to the door.
It's difficult to believe that an unknown, 4-year-old boy, who pounded on our door and barged into our home, scaring his mother, confusing Tim and the kids (and the dogs), and had me on edge over the phone--worried of how the story was going to end; a boy who has brought me to tears as I write and one whom I have not yet had the privilege to meet, has now become one of my favorite people. My heart has melted. He is my son's friend...
I hope they go for another walk soon.
Friday, February 4, 2011
How To Train Your Husband
I blog a lot about my kids and life in general but not often do I write about my husband, with the exception of a mention or two. It really is a shame that he sometimes gets left out of because he really is what (not to sound "Jerry MacQuire'ish") completes my life.
Several times over the course of our 11 year marriage, friends have told Tim and I we're an "amazing couple", we are "the happiest couple they know", or some similar compliment. It's nice to hear others think we work as well together as we think we do. Though I wouldn't say it comes without effort-- no marriage is successful without effort on both sides. We make a pretty good team.
Yesterday, a friend of mine asked me if I had to "train" my husband. It's not the first time friends have joked about how "well behaved" he is. I laughed and replied, "it was a long, drawn out process."
Tim and I argue just as any couple, married or not. And I would dare to say it's usually about the same things everyone argues about: finances, ways to discipline the kids... typical hot topic issues. Neither one of us are jealous people. We trust each other more than some think is normal and forgive quicker than most. I'm sure that is probably the main reason we are so perfect for each other. Neither of us are overly romantic people but sometimes he is, more so than I. It's a bonus. When the romantic spurts happen it's unexpected, not hinted for, and incredibly sweet.
We never celebrate Valentine's Day, Sweetest Day or similar "holidays". Too sappy for me. He learned that quickly after our first February 14th together when he gave me a card, box of chocolates and a Brian McKnight CD. I thanked him, of course, and went about the day. I think he was relieved. I hope, at least.
We like pretty much the same music but tolerate the groups we both don't agree on. We both love movies; he watches scary movies alone but sits through chick-flicks with me with little grunting. We have silly time and laugh a lot. We try to make light of bad situations when we can (i.e. posing for pictures together in front of a poster of a colon at the oncologist office, jumping on the bed, have pillow fights, or make up new words to songs on the radio) and when I'm sick he asks "what was your warranty again?" We don't ask permission to do things with friends but give the courtesy of saying "do you mind...". When we disagree about a course of action we try to explain each side and in the end, he usually lets me win.
Only moments before I walked down the isle to marry the man of my dreams at a young age, a friend of mine walked down to basement of the church to say hello. She leaned over, gave me a hug and wished us luck and gave her congratulations. She then whispered, "I've heard whoever says the first words at the alter is the one who controls the marriage so make sure you say something when you see him." I laughed, of course, thinking what a silly Old Wives Tale it was. Though, when I got to the alter and looked up at his handsome face I whispered, "I love you." He never knew what hit him.
So, for those of you who want to know how to train your husband, there are a few simple steps. Because this is a family blog, I'll keep it clean :)
Several times over the course of our 11 year marriage, friends have told Tim and I we're an "amazing couple", we are "the happiest couple they know", or some similar compliment. It's nice to hear others think we work as well together as we think we do. Though I wouldn't say it comes without effort-- no marriage is successful without effort on both sides. We make a pretty good team.
Yesterday, a friend of mine asked me if I had to "train" my husband. It's not the first time friends have joked about how "well behaved" he is. I laughed and replied, "it was a long, drawn out process."
Tim and I argue just as any couple, married or not. And I would dare to say it's usually about the same things everyone argues about: finances, ways to discipline the kids... typical hot topic issues. Neither one of us are jealous people. We trust each other more than some think is normal and forgive quicker than most. I'm sure that is probably the main reason we are so perfect for each other. Neither of us are overly romantic people but sometimes he is, more so than I. It's a bonus. When the romantic spurts happen it's unexpected, not hinted for, and incredibly sweet.
We never celebrate Valentine's Day, Sweetest Day or similar "holidays". Too sappy for me. He learned that quickly after our first February 14th together when he gave me a card, box of chocolates and a Brian McKnight CD. I thanked him, of course, and went about the day. I think he was relieved. I hope, at least.
We like pretty much the same music but tolerate the groups we both don't agree on. We both love movies; he watches scary movies alone but sits through chick-flicks with me with little grunting. We have silly time and laugh a lot. We try to make light of bad situations when we can (i.e. posing for pictures together in front of a poster of a colon at the oncologist office, jumping on the bed, have pillow fights, or make up new words to songs on the radio) and when I'm sick he asks "what was your warranty again?" We don't ask permission to do things with friends but give the courtesy of saying "do you mind...". When we disagree about a course of action we try to explain each side and in the end, he usually lets me win.
Only moments before I walked down the isle to marry the man of my dreams at a young age, a friend of mine walked down to basement of the church to say hello. She leaned over, gave me a hug and wished us luck and gave her congratulations. She then whispered, "I've heard whoever says the first words at the alter is the one who controls the marriage so make sure you say something when you see him." I laughed, of course, thinking what a silly Old Wives Tale it was. Though, when I got to the alter and looked up at his handsome face I whispered, "I love you." He never knew what hit him.
So, for those of you who want to know how to train your husband, there are a few simple steps. Because this is a family blog, I'll keep it clean :)
- Listen to his needs.
- Understand his lifelong goals.
- Understand his need to have alone time with his buddies. (He can't be with you 24 hours a day, nor would you probably want him to.)
- If he truly is your best friend, trust him with everything you have.
- Keep secrets and have inside jokes.
- Share everything.
- Don't be afraid to argue.
- Don't be afraid to tell the truth.
- Call him out on his B.S. and do it right away. Don't stew on things that are troubling you.
- Give him a foot rub even though you hate touching feet.
- Compliment his talents and trust in his abilities to try something new.
- Encourage him and he will encourage you.
- And above all else, marry the perfect man for you. Because no matter what anyone tells you, you can never train a man to be someone you want him to be. He already has to be the man you've been looking for your entire life.
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| "A bottle of wine and a camera" cir Feb. 2009 |
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