Monday

I Love How You Love Me





 
I love that you watch your boring television shows when I'm not home so I don't have to sit through them, and without a complaint you watch all of mine. I love that you aren't afraid to kiss me in public and that you have no problem being alone with me on a dance floor. I love that your hand finds a place on my back when you walk by, and how you bring our morning coffee to the bedroom on weekends. I love that a serious conversation is always followed up with a comforting smile so I know not to worry, and you let me season our popcorn even when you'd prefer it plain. I love that you're always considering what is best for us now and later, and how you hang a clean towel outside the shower when you notice I forgot. I love that you go out of your way to surprise me with gifts from the heart, that you wink at me from behind your drums on stage, and you never complain about my cooking. I love that in ten years you've never discouraged me from wearing certain clothes or changing the style or color of my hair, and you never comment on me eating seconds or making my fries a Poutine. I love that you accept that I am an over-sharer, that I like writing and sharing my life through pictures and stories even though it's not exactly your style. You trust my ideas. You let me paint things, re-paint things, move things and change things whenever I want. You don't question me, and you never give me a hard time if my plan fails. I love how you purchase concert tickets before I even know they are on sale and you never raise your voice unless you're singing. I love that you never make me feel guilty for having had a lazy day or two or three, or six or seven in a row. I love that you pretend to be blind to dark circles, lines and spots, and swear I don't need makeup even after I point out my flaws. I love that you don't judge when I sing loud and off key, when I dance like no one is watching or wear frumpy, unflattering clothes.


I love how you love me.



*This post was written on Valentine's Day making it absolutely acceptable. Only on Valentine's Day can you use the word love fourteen times in one paragraph to gush about your guy and how good you have it. If I have made anyone gag... Sorry, not sorry.*

Tuesday

Mornings. The Struggle Is Real.


He wakes up before his alarm clock and instantly rises to his feet. He doesn't wait for the alarm just so he can hit the snooze button three times, or stretch, rub his eyes or take a few minutes to process that it is now morning. He jumps out of bed. No matter how little sleep he had he appears rested, energized and ready to tackle the day. He lets OB out for a pee, throws the lazy dog back into our bed and hops in the shower. He makes a trip downstairs to freshen his clothes in the dryer and comes back upstairs to iron his outfit. He may pack himself a lunch, make a cup of coffee, and may even sit in front of the television with a bowl of cereal.


Me? 




For the life of me I have tried to rise and shine, but I just can't. I have even set the alarm on my tablet to wake me with a motivational message. Good morning, Rachel. It's a new day! Get up, make coffee, exercise! I have prepared a lunch the night before, gone to bed early, set out clothes, pre-set the coffee pot to brew at 6am, and I've even slept in workout clothes but I still can't do it. I can't do mornings. Instead, I wake up with just enough time to shower, dress, grab my things and go. If a lunch is one of those things it's a good day.

If I could program myself to do mornings, I would give myself time to putter around. I like to putter. When I'm cleaning, cooking or getting ready to go somewhere I like to take my good old time. It may sound crazy or straight up lazy, but I like to give myself hours to do things. Don't get me wrong, I can clean, cook and get stuff done like a boss but I'd prefer to take my time. Ideally, I'd fold a basket of clean clothes over the course of an hour, watching a show on TV. Or, I'd set my hair in hot rollers two hours before go time just so I can enjoy some wine and sit around.

I would give anything to wake up in the morning with a few hours to burn. I'd sip on a cup of coffee while watching Breakfast Television, I'd eat breakfast and throw a lunch together, unload the dishwasher or do a wash, and I'd even try to get in some exercise. Perhaps a run down the North East with my dog while the coffee is brewing. Wouldn't that be swell? I'd even spend time styling my hair and put effort into picking out a cute outfit. I could make myself do all this... But it would be painful. I want to love it. I want to do it without a struggle.


Some of you actually love the morning, don't you? Some of you are out the door by 6am to get to the gym, go running, tidy up and tend to children. Teach me.
What are mornings like in your house?