Saturday, June 16, 2007

More Saturday, 16 June 2007

Today my husband spent the day in Tokyo by himself for his birthday. I spoke with him right after he woke up and he told me he would find some exciting things in his trusty touristy guide book to keep him busy. I was expecting a Skype call from him at the end of his adventures sometime around 2 or 3 pm UK time. As the small hand on my watch crept past the 3, then the 4 and then the 5, I experienced a low grade rumble of anxiety. I tried to send him some chat lines but he wasn't online and then I tried to call the hotel in Japan. I got the phone number from the hotel website, but apparently I'm incapable of making a telephone call to Japan as all seven attempts ended in abject failure.

I kept thinking of the fact that Tim was alone in that huge city, that he didn't speak a word of Japanese, that no one knew where he'd gone and that no one would know if he went missing. I have a very dear friend whose husband died shortly after they were married and going through that tragedy with her has left me with a shadowy fear that occasionally hisses in the back of my consciousness, "He is going to die. You won't have him for long." I can usually see right through these maudlin thoughts for the dramatic fiction that they are, but not this time.

Then I wised up to the fact that calling his cell phone might be a good idea. His groggy greeting on the other end made me feel all at once relieved, grateful, and--inexplicably--angry and withdrawn. When he called me back on Skype I couldn't speak to him properly. I couldn't respond to his happy recollection of the day or his sleep-tousled hair or his boyishly handsome smile. I didn't want to talk to him. And then I just started crying.

Eventually I could manage a smile and I faked being okay, but I'm still bothered by the whole thing. I'm mystified by my reaction. Maybe I was angry that we didn't have time to talk because I had to go make dinner. Or maybe I was withdrawn because he was sleeping rather than talking to me. Or maybe I miss him and that's all it is. Or maybe on some level I'm afraid that the misty whisperings aren't dramatic fiction and that maybe I'd just better get used to being without him for real.

Now that's maudlin...

Saturday, 16 June 2007

Happy Birthday to my dearest Tim! Of course, he's in Tokyo, but hey! I'm sure he can feel the love. He's also missing Father's Day which really bites because fathers don't have that many holidays honoring them and he deserves muy grande honor. We'll make up for it when he gets back. We've been using Skype to keep in touch. It's a good thing. And it's free. That's the best part. Oh, and we can see each other via webcam which is actually the best thing for real.

Conversation this morning which leads me to believe that our youngest will be a lawyer when she grows up (or a spoiled socialite):

Kathryn: Mommeeeee? I want a kitchen set for my bedroom and I need lots of toys.
Me: Hmmm. I think you already have a lot of toys and you should be thankful for what you have.
Kathryn: No I don't.
Me: You have toys from Christmas and from your birthday. You have lots of toys to play with.
Kathryn: Books aren't toys. I need more toys.
Me: I wasn't talking about books. I was talking about toys.
Kathryn: I don't have lots of toys.
Me: (Changing tactics) I think you're really lucky. There are lots of children who don't have any toys.
Kathryn: No there aren't.
Me: Yes there are.
Kathryn: No there aren't.
Me: Yes there are.
Kathryn: How do you know?
Me: Because I know some of them.
Kathryn: Who are they?
Me: Just some kids, okay?
Kathryn:What are their names?
Me: (Playing the desperation card) If you don't like the toys you have, I'd be happy to give them to charity.

Okay, so I haven't got the mom thing totally figured out yet.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Thursday, 14 June 2007

The long awaited day of the end of my six weeks of arm exile has ended! Technically, the six weeks was up yesterday, but in reality, it ended Saturday night. I had enough. ENOUGH. Now I get to go to a physiotherapy appt on Monday to see what they'll let me do...or what they won't let me do.

I probably shouldn't be writing this blog or doing half the stuff I'm doing, but it doesn't hurt and I haven't tried to lift it up yet, so I think I'm safe.

My husband gave me a blessing before I went in for the surgery and said that I should learn the lessons I needed to learn through this. I'm pretty sure he was meaning something spiritual and good. I'm pretty sure it'll come to me at some point.

Other sketchy updates: the construction isn't over. I think it will be over fairly soon. Tim is shooting for my mother's visit in August. The kitchen cabinets are ordered now and should arrive in about two weeks. That feels like a major step. Tim has done a lot of things, like screed the floor, paint the walls, and he did an amazing job putting the floor tile into the utility room. He does good work. Wish I could say the same for the idiot contractor. He never showed up again. We have tools, we have levels, we have a grinder--all his. At some point he may want them back, but then again, at some point we may sell them on ebay and recoup the cost of having the roof done the right way. Who's to say?

I want to write more, but must go downstairs and assist in the total purging of the girls' bedroom. It's a complete tip. Fortunately Chris is a natural organizer. I'm paying him an exorbitant price to clean the room. It'll be worth it.

I've missed this writing thing. Maybe that's the lesson I was supposed to learn.