Thursday, July 8, 2010

Come Home?

Today is a weird day. My wife left me. Not forever. I hope. Just for work. She's flying to Ireland to watch her bosses kids while they renew their wedding vows.

Yep, my wife is a nanny. Yep, her bosses are from a different socio-economic strata than we are. And yeah, they are kind, cool, generous, amazing, attractive, smart... did I say amazing, people. And... how do you say... literate?

It's not like I think they actually read my blog. But, you know, theoretically, they could. Which makes this a perfect platform to drop hints. Not that I need to. Pretty much the only thing I'd tell them is that sometimes Danielle's body hurts her more than she lets on.

I'd ever-so-politely request that they strap her down from time to time so she doesn't permanently injure herself. It's not their responsibility or anything. It's just that she's kind of like the Energizer Bunny on steroids. Except if the energizer bunny had jumped off the Empire State Building a few times. Seven surgeries is brutal! And as an overprotective husband who kissed his wife goodbye for two weeks, these are bits of information that I want to leak any way possible.

See, I know my wife pretty well. And while she is without question the toughest and most optimistic girl alive, she has absolutely NO ability to hear what her body is telling her. It's like her bones speak French and her mind only understands English. Her ankle yells that it wants to fall off, and her back threatens to crack instead of lift a child for the 73rd time that hour. But she merrily continues, noticing only unintelligible ramblings in the background. Later I translate for her: "Babe, that popping sound... it was your back. And it was cursing at you."

I'm not breaking new ground here. Not throwing her under the bus. She already knows this, and we laugh about it at least weekly. We laugh because we both have blind spots. And she picks on me too. Like the joke she left on the dashboard of our car yesterday. It's a neon sticky note which reads "How's my driving? Call 1-800-I-LUV-YOU". Touche. Apparently she wants me to slow down while she's gone.

Yep, I speed. Yep, she knows it. And yeah, we joke around about it as much as we joke about her masochistic tendencies. But for both of us, there's that... ahem, (awkward cough) element of truth to our comedy. She really isn't a fan of me averaging 4 tickets a year (which I'm currently on pace for), and I don't love it when I see her eyes bloodshot from all the pent up physical pain.

Needless to say, we're worried about each other as we say goodbye. Obviously our primary emotion is more like "Holy crap, how am I going to survive two weeks without you!?!" But a close second is, "If you kill yourself while we're apart I am SO going to break your kneecaps later." Yeah, we love each other a lot. And we both pay the price for our bad decisions. (Read: $400+ to NYS Department of Motor Vehicles.)

Blind spots are a crazy thing. You can even know about them and still struggle. That's another reason why I'm missing her. She protects me. She knows my weaknesses and helps me navigate through raging emotional storms. Often she sees them brewing in the distance long before I can. She even tells me when I'm hurting and don't realize it.

Almost every other day we sit down on our pleather couch with massive rips in the seat cushions and she gives me a play-by-play of what I'm feeling. I stare back in wide eyed amazement! "So that's what this yucky feeling in my tummy is?!" She's like the husband whisperer.

With her gone I'm apprehensive. What if a storm comes? What will I do then? I've got this weird floating feeling like a boat without an anchor. I'm lost. Floating at sea. Speeding in my car again. Eating at the bar again. (Not really, but it rhymed.) Avoiding myself and my scary feelings.

Come home Babe. I promise I won't tease you about your ankle. Come home!


  1. Matt, this would definitely be a good time to practice your blog on a word document before publishing it publicly!!

  2. I think Joann may have commented on the wrong blog. If she doesn't like it, then she should stop reading.

  3. Fantastic post, Matt. (Not sure what Joann was reading!) It's neat to watch you and Danielle. Your acceptance of eachother and the way you balance eachother out is beautiful.
    Hope the weeks will fly by. S'mores anyone?

  4. Hope the time passes swiftly for both of you! ;) I think Joanne has a point. Not that this blog is too raw, but that you have the potential to spout off without your sounding board around to slow you down. So vet it on word doc first, then see if it is post worthy. May the Lord bless you and keep you, may the Lord make His face to shine upon you and give you peace.

  5. Sounds like what Joann may have meant is that while Danielle is gone, you should use the Word doc to vent some feelings before blogging 'em. :)

    Anyway. Loved the post! You and Danielle are perfect for each other. I'm glad she has you to worry about her and take care of her, and vice versa.

    Would you want to come over for dinner sometime while she's gone? :)

  6. I liked it. :-)

  7. No, no, I really like this blog!! I was making a reference to one of Matt's other blogs when his wife told him to put his thoughts on a word document first!! Since she wasn't going to be there to tell him, I was telling him. I was only joking. Wow. So serious!

    Keep writing Matt - your biggest fans are enjoying it!

  8. Haha! I know what you meant, Joann. Thanks! You and Sarah and Bee are some of my biggest encouragers! I couldn't keep at it without you all!

    Also, I think it's really funny how much everyone liked this one. I whipped it out in like 30 minutes. Usually I spend hours searching my soul and tweaking words. This one included no thinking!

    Maybe I should think less? :)

  9. Totally. My best blogs are written in less than an hour, and require almost no tweaking. Go for it. :)

    PS. Totally love mom's comment. :D

  10. Hey handsome, here is my First ever comment in writing. "I love your blogs and I love you. Counting the days to when we can laugh about ourselves and our issues while we sit on the sinking sofa and you rub my aching back!"

  11. I so related! My husband leaves in 7 days FOR A YEAR. After 21 years of marriage we still miss each other when apart and we even like each other (most days).

    I will check into getting you a sticker for your vehicle. Chris's sister is a NYS Trooper and her Zone Sargent status has afforded us some grace in the past. WOW $400 - looks like a week of fasting or a steady diet of ramen noodles.

  12. I would LOVE a magic sticker!!! :)

  13. Husband whisperer. I like that.... lol