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I have 3.  Well, not REALLY but still.  Anyway….

The husband:  We had some blows this week.  One in particular apparently struck a nerve.  I guess I play the victim in his eyes.  Alot.  And he’s sick of it.  Perhaps.  I can’t tell him his perception is WRONG.  But I can figure out why he sees me this way and perhaps we’ll both learn a few things.  I’ll save you all the details but in the end I said I feel like I can never do enough and he said I need to stop thinking like that every time he asks me to do something.  In my mind I said “well if you showed any type of appreciation for what I actually DO get done perhaps I wouldn’t feel like it.”  But the baby was finally sleeping and if I said that we’d end up in some useless discussion and so I bit my tongue and tried to sleep.  Before he fell asleep he asked if I was crying.  I honestly wasn’t but usually by this point I would be so he expected it.  He asked me 3 or 4 times.  He realized I was more mad than upset.  The next day he told me to find a babysitter for Thursday night.  He arranged a date night.  He did it by himself.   He picked the restaurant and made the reservations.  He doesn’t know any of our babysitters so I can hardly fault him for asking that.  We haven’t discussed it but I actually feel like trying harder to get more done this week.  Amazing what a little attention can do.

The OB/Good Doc:  I still just love this man.  I’m still having recovery issues.  Ugh.  I’ve decided I’ll just have to live with some sort of pain because there is NO medical reason thus far for why I’m feeling what I’m feeling.  I’ve not called him every other day demanding he figure something out.  I’ve let it go since I have bigger fish to fry than deal with this.  It’s not horrible and I can get by without any pain meds so I’ll deal with it later.  Had my 6 week check up and he is insisting on helping me.  He’s insisting that I talk to him about it and work with him to figure it out.  He’s gone out of his way for me so much and is doing so much more than I’ve ever asked or imagined.  He knows I’m sinking at home.  He knows my husband is never around and I’m doing this mostly on my own.  He knows I would easily disregard my own health as I take care of my children.  (Which is exactly what is going on)  I just don’t see or hear about this type of care very often and it reinforces the fact that there are still wonderful, caring people in this world.  He cares.  It feels good.

Frank:  Oh Frank.  The man who holds an odd shaped piece of my heart.   The way he looks at me.  The way he interacts with me.  The way he cares for me.  Such simple forms of affection.  Yet there is little to no physical contact.  This week he put his hand on my back while walking out a door and I just didn’t want him to remove it.  It’s such a strong touch, yet so incredibly gentle.  He’s a big guy.  He’s strong.  He softens his touch with his eyes.  He just captivates me.  He’s happy the good doc is insisting on extending my care to fix this annoying ab issue.  He’s happy my husband works hard enough to afford whatever it is that I need to get it taken care of.  He’s happy to see me and talk to me and it feels good.

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