Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Everything I left out...

a truthfully, but not for better, formatted ode , to the HubsJ

inexplicably passionate guy, (i don't understand his energy levels, can't believe, after 12 years, can't believe it... )  ... right down to calling the grassgreen color a hallucinagenic, his wife a rare beauty (he does, all the time) ...

has he NEVER seen me yelling at the kids about crap? that cannot be a moment of beauty.  has he NOT noticed the belly which divides and conquers and makes all my teeshirts call me 'preggers' in some wierd bifurcated alien way?...
and going into raptures over cloud formations and forgetabout the swallows, forgetaboutit. (they are pretty damn cool in their numbers and swoops)

Energy spills into painting rearranging, refrigerator cleansings, shutter hangings and the everpresent book sortings. Sometimes I feel like I should get up and help but then I remember I'm in the middle of nursing, laundering, washing, staring, etc.

Dinnertimes are rich, varied, and above all... fabulously tasty. He shows his love in his kettles, the clangs of pots and pans and the slice and dice of vegetable. It is how we continue to grow. (yesterday for lunch, i had tomatoes drizzled in oil and balsamic, with mozzarella and fresh basil. )
I feel terribly guilty that I'm not a cooking-lover.  I do.  What I make is basic and sometimes I don't even have anything started when he gets home from work and I feel like its so SO unfair to him and then I try to remember how much I dislike cooking and am trying to get more comfortable with everyone eating hotdogs. or eggs. I can make eggs.
When we are in the depths of despair and struggle, it is hard for me to eat any food that he makes.  symbol made solid.

He dances like a wild giraffe, and we love him for it. all of us. (although we chose to emulate slightly different styles... ) His joy is wilderness in action. classic rock or jazz, reggae or choral beatitudes, he will rock it.

Sex? good lord. if you knew, you'd be jealous. yes, you would. take me at my word.
True. and i'm responsible for 50% of that. -although not the instigation part, which is critical. critical.

He is very masculine without being an asshole, full of sporty competitiveness whilst still being a teacher of beginning boys. watch him play catch with my 8 for hours, and encourage the jumps of the five as he works on knowing his body and how it works. I don't really understand competition, as a healthy thing.  I know it can be, but my nature is to have everyone feel very good about themselves and their playful abilities and I don't equate that with 'winner/loser' games. Obviously, I have not ever been a competitive athlete. I KNOW that changes things.  I am hoping to learn.

He loves his work, mixing up duties with desires and doing his best for so many who give him (sometimes) so little. He will quibble with my saying they give him little. He is generous. He loves to be generous, he seems pretty good at it. . . .
So many people he works with are super-needy, and it is hard for me to not resent their neediness.  they just keep on NEEDING, and i sometimes hate that.  This is my neediness. (it doesn't help that many of them are women. no, it really doesn't. )

He is part of his history, and working his way forward to a new understanding of where he is now.
He is trying, falling down and getting back up over and over again. always getting back up.
always getting back up.
go for it, hubsJ.

thanks for putting up with me, while I put up with you.



amyontheroad said...

Gosh, this is lovely. There are so many wonderful things about my own J, but lately, (I'm guessing/hoping that because of hormones) the days are few and far between when I can summon those thoughts and feelings. Good on you!