Mr. Sexy is back at work after two months of disability leave. In October he injured himself throwing a tire into the back of our truck. Two months later the pain in his back only worsened causing sleeplessness, increased irritability and a lack of functionality in every day life. He then made the decision to work from home. But after a few weeks, as we finally started getting answers about his injury, it was suggested by his doctor he officially go on disability leave.
I do not believe in chance. Everything happens for a reason. Our pregnancy. His injury. Going on disability leave. Heading back to work. Timing can be everything. During this chain of events, timing was everything. In the moment I knew it, and looking back I see it even more clearly.
The moment I found out about you, I was filled with fear. For me, for you, for the broken ideas that I had for our lives.
January 26, 2008
Then you turned one and you started spending nights with your dad. When you were home, I would watch you sleeping in your crib. And I would sob. And pray. And trace your perfectly round face with my fingertips. Our future looked bleak at that time. I saw myself going nowhere fast. And as for your future, well, I couldn’t see that either.
This baby has always been part of the family plan. Before getting married, Mr. Sexy and I decided we wanted to have two kids together, and then adopt, and then call our family complete. Our plan couldn’t be more perfect, and so, Denai was conceived right on schedule. Literally. Her birth was very well planned.
However, when Mr. Sexy and I made our family plans, I didn’t anticipate our family dynamics to turn out so complicated. It makes sense that they would. As I like to say, “We are a very well blended family.” We share custody of Michael, Marie has Down syndrome and is also from Mr. Sexy’ previous marriage, then there is Denai who rounds it all out by being absolutely abnoxious. Then again, I take credit for that.
Of course, that doesn’t include me and Mr. Sexy. We are an amazing couple. Always managed to see beyond our rose colored glasses. Always aware of the world spinning around us. Always making smart choices for our future, hand in hand.
Looking back, our engagement and wedding bliss is full of emotions. Some are sad. Some are embarrassing. The rest are wonderful. I knew what kind of bride I was. The fancy dress. Perfect location. Finest food. Largest guest list. Most expensive flower arrangements. It was an event society told me would be all about me. It was accepted and it was OK. Although, I was not a bridezilla. I wasn’t crazy or mean to the girls I surrounded myself with and called “bridesmaids.” I just knew what I wanted and made it known to the appropriate people.
I was going to come up with a never-thought-of-metaphor or make up a story to make my point today. Instead, I’m simply going to call it as I see it. So here’s to hoping for a few new friend-readers.
I am a Pure Romance Consultant and I invite you to attend my first party. I invite you because practicing my demonstrations in front of friends is a lot more fun than in front of strangers. I invite you because I want to talk to you about what I’m doing and why. Lastly, I invite you because I’m looking for a little bit of support.
Your response is (and this is in my own words, not yours): No. What you are doing is sinful. Obviously you have lost your way. Please have coffee with me so I can tell you about all my concerns for you, your family and your future. I am praying that God will bring you back.
My response is as tame as I can make it. Here is what I don’t say: You have just proven the reputation that Christians have for being judgmental. Please pray for me, though. The Lord knows I need it! But as for a coffee date, well, that does not sound fun with three kids sitting next to me. I think you might not know me very well. If you did, you would know that I have a wonderful, supportive husband who works 8-5, Monday – Friday. So of course when he comes home we are busy with dinner, homework and spending time together as a family. Obviously, relationships are only important to you on your terms. And that’s too bad.
Does babysitting count as a first job? Technically that’s the first work I did to earn money other than doing chores in exchange for an allowance.
I was a great babysitter. My mom taught me one very important thing: Leave the home cleaner than when you found it (on top of all other necessary duties). As a born over-achiever, this was always my goal; to receive praise to be the best babysitter these moms had ever seen. It worked, too. On top of that, I found that tidying someone else’s home was much easier than cleaning my own home. Besides, what else am I going to do while the kid naps? Sit around and watch TV? Well, it seems that’s what babysitters today do.