To my Idgygirl,
You seem to think you are lagging, failing, falling behind, not keeping up, burned out, torn down, incompetent, inept, incapable...you fear that you don't know how to do the things expected of you and that you're faking it. You fear that you are letting everyone down. Your friends, your kids, your spouse, your parents and siblings, your coworkers.
All three of your kids are happy and healthy. They are socially adjusted, well-mannered, pleasant, and exactly as rebellious as children need to be as their psychologies drive them to understand the natural sociological laws of boundaries, and norms, adult customs, and what they mean.
You have done an unbelievable job at promoting healthy self-images to your daughters and choosing a spouse who promotes chivalry and etiquette to your son, who pointed out to me his appreciation for remembering his best friend the day I brought those gross gas station treats. Your youngest, J, asks permission before she touches anything of mine - including my baby. Your children hauled my furniture and boxes like slaves on moving day. I can leave Rozzie with your 5-year-old and not even think twice.
Your children camp, run, climb, and play outside. They pick flowers in the yard, walk my baby through the park, and I've never once seen them play a video game.
Every time I eat over at your home, it is a healthy meal of lean protein and a vegetable or two - with water.
When I am overwhelmed by my life - my job, my housework, my relationships, you find an emergency sitter and drive downtown from West Jordan to help me. In the last few months, you have driven over, Starbucks in hand, to:
-do my dishes.
-bring me a week's worth of meals in casserole dishes and bowls
-bring me a tank top you bought me at Target
-carry my laundry up from the dryer
-sweep my apartment
-lend me clothes you thought I'd look cute in
-lend me more clothes you thought I'd look cute in
-get me out of the house to do something
-take Roz for a playdate so I can study
-haul up just a few more clothes you forgot about, you thought I'd look cute in
-check on me because I didn't answer my phone all day when you were concerned about me...
You show up at my office in the middle of the day, with a pink sugarfree rockstar, cuz you thought I needed a mid-day bump. You loaded up your kids and drove to the stadium in Supercross traffic to get Rozzie for a sleepover so I didn't have to worry about her in the weather, crowds, and noise and so I could "afterparty" when the only person afterpartying with me should have been YOU! (this year you are off-duty). She was 7 weeks old. You stated for the record that you were willing to perform unmentionable forms of assistance before and after my then-imminent childbirth. You come early to set up Rozzie's birthday party even when you have baseball and J-flo's princess bash the next morning.
You drive to Pizzle regularly to see your parents. You find work for your brother when he's in a bind. You babysit nieces and nephews. You tell me the truth even if I don't want to hear it, and you forbid my stupid decisions. You go to coworkers' birthday parties and make friends with their wives. Your house is spotless. You do Zumba and chop wood and go to powerpoint and photoshop classes and host dinners for the governor. The sickest part of this is that this is just the few things off the top of my head. I will keep remembering things you've done for everyone around you. It's dizzying.
You, my friend, are a freak.
If I hear you say you aren't cutting it, I'll cry. You're amazing, and I love you.
You seem to think you are lagging, failing, falling behind, not keeping up, burned out, torn down, incompetent, inept, incapable...you fear that you don't know how to do the things expected of you and that you're faking it. You fear that you are letting everyone down. Your friends, your kids, your spouse, your parents and siblings, your coworkers.
All three of your kids are happy and healthy. They are socially adjusted, well-mannered, pleasant, and exactly as rebellious as children need to be as their psychologies drive them to understand the natural sociological laws of boundaries, and norms, adult customs, and what they mean.
You have done an unbelievable job at promoting healthy self-images to your daughters and choosing a spouse who promotes chivalry and etiquette to your son, who pointed out to me his appreciation for remembering his best friend the day I brought those gross gas station treats. Your youngest, J, asks permission before she touches anything of mine - including my baby. Your children hauled my furniture and boxes like slaves on moving day. I can leave Rozzie with your 5-year-old and not even think twice.
Your children camp, run, climb, and play outside. They pick flowers in the yard, walk my baby through the park, and I've never once seen them play a video game.
Every time I eat over at your home, it is a healthy meal of lean protein and a vegetable or two - with water.
When I am overwhelmed by my life - my job, my housework, my relationships, you find an emergency sitter and drive downtown from West Jordan to help me. In the last few months, you have driven over, Starbucks in hand, to:
-do my dishes.
-bring me a week's worth of meals in casserole dishes and bowls
-bring me a tank top you bought me at Target
-carry my laundry up from the dryer
-sweep my apartment
-lend me clothes you thought I'd look cute in
-lend me more clothes you thought I'd look cute in
-get me out of the house to do something
-take Roz for a playdate so I can study
-haul up just a few more clothes you forgot about, you thought I'd look cute in
-check on me because I didn't answer my phone all day when you were concerned about me...
You show up at my office in the middle of the day, with a pink sugarfree rockstar, cuz you thought I needed a mid-day bump. You loaded up your kids and drove to the stadium in Supercross traffic to get Rozzie for a sleepover so I didn't have to worry about her in the weather, crowds, and noise and so I could "afterparty" when the only person afterpartying with me should have been YOU! (this year you are off-duty). She was 7 weeks old. You stated for the record that you were willing to perform unmentionable forms of assistance before and after my then-imminent childbirth. You come early to set up Rozzie's birthday party even when you have baseball and J-flo's princess bash the next morning.
You drive to Pizzle regularly to see your parents. You find work for your brother when he's in a bind. You babysit nieces and nephews. You tell me the truth even if I don't want to hear it, and you forbid my stupid decisions. You go to coworkers' birthday parties and make friends with their wives. Your house is spotless. You do Zumba and chop wood and go to powerpoint and photoshop classes and host dinners for the governor. The sickest part of this is that this is just the few things off the top of my head. I will keep remembering things you've done for everyone around you. It's dizzying.
You, my friend, are a freak.
If I hear you say you aren't cutting it, I'll cry. You're amazing, and I love you.
1 comment:
I want what she's having. Super woman!
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