My Angel Valentine

It’s hard to mention everything that goes on in the period of a week. So many times I think “Oh that would make a great Charlie post” only to have the idea swallowed up by a dirty diaper, a child refusing to eat his green beans, a story about how the bus driver was a lady and she had a beard, or my boss calling me into his office. What get’s printed is often what just has to be printed for the sake of history and all those little thoughts never see the light of day.

Unfortunately the consequence of that is I don’t get to brag about my Valentine as much as I should. She literally sets the table for me every day. I’m not talking about food (although she did fix my plate at the church potluck yesterday which was really nice) I mean that when I think about my life she has literally put everything I could ever want in front of me. She somehow instinctively knows when I’m out of undershirts and has them washed before the last one is used. She understands how forgetful I am and that I need to be reminded of things a hundred times. She knows that I cannot color coordinate clothes to safe my life and makes sure Adam has an outfit ready every night so he doesn’t leave the house looking like a garbage pail kid.

My Valentine understands that sometimes I just need to gripe and complain. That saving money makes me happy and fruit juice in the fridge brings a smile to my face. She feels the same sadness that I do when more than 3 or 4 hours go by without a word from the other via email, text, or phone. She allows me the time to write a thousand hours ever week and doesn’t give me grief when I’ve got a deadline that causes me to have to come home early from church or a night out with friends.

I pray that I do enough to show her that I’m always trying to do my fair share and that the last thing I expect is for me to be just another person in this house she has to clean up after. That she knows I understand I am nothing without her and that I regret those times when I’ve looked around to discover I have taken her for granted. I hope that I do enough to make her life easier, but ultimately it’s her that brings everything together in my life and the lives of Adam & Alex.

This Valentine’s Day I hope my Valentine knows that I am nothing without her by my side.

I've got an angel

She doesn't wear any wings

She wears a heart that can melt my own

She wears a smile that can make me wanna sing

She gives me presents

With her presence alone

She gives me everything I could wish for

She gives me kisses on the lips just for coming home

She can make angels

I've seen it with my own eyes

You gotta be careful when you've got good love

Cause the angels will just keep on multiplying

The Escape Artist

It’s hard to believe that we are approaching the birthday month. Alex will be one on 3/12 and Adam might make it five on 3/20 if he can learn to quit burping in people’s faces. While Adam is entering the frightening fives (a continuation of the worrysome one's, the terrible two’s, the thunderous three’s, and the fearsome four’s), Alex seems to be building his personality one day at a time and proving that he is very much a unique individual.

I talked a lot about Adam during his Chief Redface days and how he would get so upset that he could literally generate lightning from a clear blue sky if allowed to get mad enough. Alex doesn’t play around with forces of nature though; he puts that face right in your ear and releases a sonic blast that would make the Black Canary proud. The next day you’re left questioning everything that is said because you can’t hear out of your left ear.

Adam prides himself on being fast and is constantly searching for a pair of new shoes that will help him run like the Flash. Alex isn’t really fast as much as he is sneaky. If I didn’t know better I’d say he could teleport through space and time. Transversing entire buildings before you ever know he’s gone.

Alex also seems to be developing an new laugh that seems to be a mix of John Lovitz’s “look how great I am” and a David Copperfield sort of amazement like even he can’t believe what is happening. One minute he’s sitting in front of you playing with Wacky Town and the next off in the distance you hear “Wha-ha-ha” as he reappears in Adam’s room.….then again this could be a sign that I have poor parenting skills so I’m going to stop there.

Sleep Turrets

In five years of blogging I don’t think I’ve ever gone 4 months without blogging. I mentioned back last September about the guilt that comes from not blogging once a week after putting so many years of work into it and I’m not going to bore you once again only to abandon it only to feel guilty the next time etc…etc… etc….

First off a quick recap: The holidays were a blur of kids running wild, wrapping paper covering entire rooms, and one snow storm after another. It was cool waking up to a white Christmas (something I don’t recall ever seeing), Adam had a blast that day we got 13 inches, then as week after week brought yet another storm all that snow got real old real fast. Oh and we passed around a stomach virus for two weeks, got claustrophobic, and went to the McWane Science Center.

Now on to the point of what has pulled me out of my blogging coma….I have sleep turrets. It sounds funny but honestly at least twice a week I fall asleep on the couch only to wake up alone in the wee hours of the morning. The next day I wake up to hear how I went all Jekyl and Hyde on Mandy all the while having no memory of what was said. This does put a cramp in my marriage at times, but Mandy is used to it and I proved long ago I literally have no earthly idea of the foul vicious things I say in my slumber. Unfortunately Friday night I turned the monster loose on Adam.

The quick story is that Mandy went to bed early, Adam was still up, and I was left on the couch to watch some random show….then it gets fuzzy. I remember Adam standing in front of me, then he walked away….then he may have come back…and I think he left crying that time….I finally came to around 2 a.m. with a ton of guilt sitting on my stomach.

The next morning Mandy and I decided to interrogate the little guy to see if there were any scars. “How did you sleep? Did you like your cartoon last night? Did we hear you crying?” All we got was fine fine good fine. Which is 4 yr old speak for “Hush I’m watching Krypto”

So for the moment I am breathing easy praying that nothing was said out of the ordinary that night, but I just know twenty years from now we will all be sitting around the dinner table and suddenly he’ll blurt out how he spent weeks afraid to come into the living room after bed time for fear I might unleash a string of abuse upon him.