my choices and the chaos that comes with them
You haven’t been sleeping well this week.
(It’s probably because we went crazy, let you outside until you were literally shaking from the cold. All for the love of a picture. I can’t help but find the irony in me losing sight of the big picture in that one.)
The pre-midnight version of me that rescues you doesn’t mind your restless sleep and calls for Mama. I’m awake enough to soak up your lanky bones. The two a.m version of me hopes this is the last wake-up call. And the four a.m. version of me just prays you don’t wake anyone else up. By seven a.m. I’m happy to see your shaggy head and hoping none of your siblings gets what you got.
You had a fever, red-rings around your eyes, and you wanted up. More than usual. You missed trick-or-treat. Not even Cookie or cookies could get you off of my hip.
Thinking now, I don’t think you’ve had a fever before. At least not one that required some drugs. Because, girl, you do not like to take drugs. And I didn’t know that. It took me by surprise. One time you gagged them right back at me. (By the way… I’m totally ok with keeping this feeling of disgust about drugs forever and ever amen.)
Today you were better, your quirky sense of humor returned and you clung less to my neck.
I just left you for the second time tonight. I think you must be having bad dreams because when I reach you, you’re shaking and disoriented.
Pretty much heartbreaking.
But you cling to me.
This time your hand slipped through the top button of my pajama top… the ones I bought before you got here so that feeding you would be “easier”. This time, the feel of your long fingers and soft palm on the nape of my neck and skin of my sternum caught my breath. Memories of days that seem easier than the days do today came flooding in, even though I’m quite sure I would have disagreed then.
Thinking of those nights in that room, in that chair, with the dim light, the tick of the swing rocking your sister, you finally getting your turn. Your hand would almost always end up resting ever so delicately right above my heart. Just like it did tonight.
Tonight though I recognized how much easier it used to be to rock you in that chair. How much easier it was to see your face before your hair grew all around it. How much easier it was to tell you that everything was going to be ok.
The moment came and went quickly, like most moments do. Your shaking had subsided. Your fingers had curved enough to tell me you’d drifted back to sleep. Normally I would have laid you back in your bed but I lingered a bit. It was easier. Drew my finger over each of yours, rubbed a heart into your back, let the chair rock us both, and whispered see you in the morning,
I am always surprised by how many people don’t know about the five love languages.
I have no idea why I’m surprised but I am. It was only introduced to me a Spring and a half ago but I’ve told pretty much anyone that will listen about it.
According to Dr. Gary Chapman there are five love languages that we can categorize ourselves into. Each of us has a primary love language that we speak and as the people-in-charge would have it we tend to be drawn to those that speak an entirely different one than us. Naturally, right?
The five languages are…
Words of Affirmation… compliments out of the blue, the reasons I love you, acknowledging hard work or a job well done. Insults or slight comments hurt your heart. A words of affirmation person feels loved not just when you tell them you love them but when you tell them why you love them or what about them specifically they do that matters.
Acts of Service… do something for them so they don’t have to, making their jobs/lives easier. An acts of service person feels loved when the kitchen is unexpectedly cleaned up to their liking. They feel unloved when you break commitments or leave things for them to pick up after you.
Gifts… this one doesn’t mean just presents and material items. It’s more about the thought behind the gift. The attention to the detail, knowing their size or favorite flower without them telling you. Gifts or gestures that show them they are cared for above all else. Forgetting birthdays, milestones is a big mistake for them.
Touch… not so much sex (which I assume is what you thought immediately.) This is not someone consumed with PDA. A touch language speaker likes holding hands, a pat on the back, a loving squeeze of the arm to show you are physically present with them.
Time… full, undivided attention. Being there and being attentive while there are big for this love language. No distractions. Postponing dates or pretending to listen would not work for this person.
Have you already decided what you are? What your other half is? Well guess what!! There’s a quiz on the website to help you figure it out! Do you love quizzes as much as I do?
(They ask for your email when you take the quiz but I’ve never once gotten an email from them so don’t get weird about that. There’s also a lot of books he’s written and a lot more other sites that talk about the wonder in these languages. Just google it, you’ll see.)
My point… it’s worth the quiz. Regardless of how long you’ve been married, if you’re married, if you’re divorced, if you’re a parent, or just a friend. it’s worth knowing your language. Because here’s the thing… your language is how you show others you love them. And not everyone talks the same way. I am an Acts of Service person and I can give you about 103 reasons why with examples to back them up. But in my house, I’m the only one that talks like that. Babe and Biggest are words men and I’m starting to think that middle is shaping up to be a time guy.
I think the languages help put things into perspective. it helps explain why I get so damn happy that Babe took the trash out without me reminding him, even though he thinks that’s the weirdest way to feel loved in the world. And it helps remind me that I need to tell him how gorgeous his blue eyes looked in that tan striped work shirt he was wearing the other day.
I am not a master of languages. Not. even. close. But I think they’re important and I think they help and I think you should know about them. That’s all.
One whole day. That’s how many days I exercised this week and that’s how many days I’m putting in for #adoptapantry. Not good.
And I’m not even sure if I should count the one day… I didn’t actually exercise but I worked my butt off in the yard two afternoons, taking advantage of the amazing October weather we had. But I was sweating so I I’m counting it. This is my game after all, right?!
The rest of us are moving right along! At the time I’m writing this we are at 275 cans!! We’ve got three weeks left to count so we may make it to 400 cans donated in time for the day we give thanks.
My personal goal is 16 days to get me to an even 50 cans.… There. Now I’ve said it… maybe that will help me do it!
I have this weird thing that if the week doesn’t start right I just want to wait until the start of the next week. I think to myself what’s the point of starting on Thursday, it’s almost the weekend. Might as well wait and just start on Monday. Do you do that? It’s just one of the things I do that annoys me!