To be loved for what one is, is the greatest exception. The great majority love in others only what they lend him, their own selves, their version of him.~Goethe
I have felt like I've been swimming upstream-alone. I have been trying desperately to put into practice the tools I've learned from "The Explosive Child" book (see previous post) in regards to Olivia. Truth be told I have failed a lot but I've also tried to be very consistent and Olivia has been a star at holding it together. Nine days without an explosion (yes, I am counting). Bless her. While Eric agrees with the book he has been dreadful at implementation. And he knows it. Bless him. But I have been really disappointed in him. More than that- he has been disappointed in himself. And so we talked --about how hard it is to change habits, to buck conventional wisdom, to silence the tape in your head that makes you question if you really are doing the right thing. Beyond that we delved into how he feels that I am always driving the bus and I explained that I often feel he'd fall asleep at the wheel. We both got it.
He headed out of town late on Thursday to visit his mom in upstate New York. His overnight flight was delayed so he called me to chat. As he sat in the airport I laid tucked up in our bed and we talked about everything-- and nothing. I let out giant belly laughs. And I remembered clearly why I love him madly. I remembered how chatting with him in the dark each night is the perfect way to end my day, that he picks the best songs to play when we're making dinner or getting the kids ready for bed, the stories he tells the girls each night about rock stars and monsters and sports heroes and how they believe that he lived them all, how it is always him that quietly speaks into the silent night air each evening, "I love you, Kate" just before he falls asleep. And I couldn't wait for him to return to us.
Eric has always contended that we "work" because I don't let anything go--I discuss, analyze and want to sort out and "fix" nearly each thing about our relationship that does not sit well with me. I contend that we "work" because he listens and more than that--he hears me and tries everything in his power to make things right for us. We accept each other for who we are (even though it is not always easy to do and we are very different people).
Olivia is at a sleepover tonite and so Audrey asked if she could sleep in my big bed with me since Papa is gone. I told her Frib, Alice, and I would be delighted to feel her feet in the night. We walked the dogs around our little neighborhood park together before bed just as Eric and I do so many nights and she collected trash to recycle as we went along--just like her dad. She pointed out the sky and talked about the night air and how good it feels- just like her dad. She came through the front door and immediately gave each dog a treat-just like her dad. And then I brushed her teeth, put cream on her cheeks and tucked her in my bed and told her I'd be back after I got a few things done. "I know, Mama, you're just going to grab your laptop and then come to bed," she said. And that insight was certainly "just like her dad." And he -and she- love me as I am. And because of that I love & accept him more each day just as he is. I can't wait to tell him in person.
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