Thursday, September 10, 2009

Me I Understand... Her? Not so much.


I get me.
I do.
It took me a few years.
But I think I finally get me.
Or at least I tell myself that I get me.
I mean, I should get me.
Goodness I've been me long enough.

I know I'm happy to be the one that people tend to over look... to forget about... or to under estimate. I know there is a little part of me that enjoys feeling like the odds are against me, the under dog, the Rocky Balboa in what ever I am fighting.
But I also know I am OK with that, because I have good self confidence (to be honest, if you looked as good as I did, then you too would have tonnes of self confidence!) :-)
I think once people get to know me, then they see there is far more than this rather unimpressive front I put on. Some people put on fronts to impress those around them, I tend to put on a front so people don't notice me... until they get to know me.
All that to say, I get me.

Because I get me, I also get Kid #1. Kid #1 is very much like me. Walks like me. Talks like me. Looks like me... okay, looks like the Mail Man, but he still talks and walks like me. The mail man has a limp, one leg is shorter than the other. But Kid #1 also has this tendency to think the world is against him at times, that he is maybe a little moodie at times, etc. And because of that, I get him.

Kid #2 however, well, he is alot like his mother. We caught him in a fist fight with a door when he was about 2 years old. He was playing in his toy room when the door slowly closed and bumped him on the back of the head. Well he jumped up, shoved the door back as hard as he could... and it bounced back and whacked him again! He screamed at the door in his little two year old gibberish (I think he said "stupid door", but it also could have been "flying purple monkey lockers". It was pre-speech therapy... remind me to blog about THAT sometime) and once again pushed it back as hard as he could. Well, the laws of Physics did not change that much in the 42 seconds that it took for this all to happen, soooooo... once again the door swung back and hit him. Mean while down stairs, me and the Wife were trying to figure out what this "whump-aaaaaahhhh-whack-bang-stupid door" ruckas was all about. When we peaked around the corner, I think we were both to busy laughing to actually try to stop him. Kid #2 stood his ground, eventually I had to separate child and door before things deteriorated any farther. And all that to say, I get him too.

Now, Kid #3, our 1st daughter I do get. But in a different way. She is like, the opposite of me in almost every regard. She is so capable for a 5 year old it is scary. If I were hanging off a cliff, and my oldest 3 (lovely) children were standing on the edge of the cliff looking down at me, I would ask her... the 5 year old to go for help. Don't get me wrong, the two boys would love to help! Kid #1 would run off with the best intentions of finding his mother to help me down from the cliff... but along the way, he would encounter a book, or a new Star Wars/Star Trek toy and be lost in his own little world while I dangle helplessly awaiting a rescue. Kid #2 would take off running with the best intentions and find a stick... or a rock... he loves rocks, along the way, and once again, I would be left to fend for myself. And if by some chance Kid #2 ever did actually get to his Mother, he would have probably forgotten why he was looking for her in the 1st place. Now, Kid #3, my 5 year old daughter... she would take off running and find her mother no matter what. She may have to portage a canoe across 1/2 the Canadian Shield, get on an airplane and fly to Brazil (learning Braziliniese on the way) and drag her Mother back to the cliff to help save me. But again, all that to say, I know my Kid #3.

My Wife... her... not so much. Actually, after being together for ... lets see, carry the one... add another one... about 16 years, I know her quite well. She excels in areas where I struggle. And after 16 years of paying attention, I get her as well.

Now Ping. Ping I'm lost.
It took me:
  • 5 years to figure out Kid #3
  • 9 years to figure out Kid #2
  • going on 11 years Kid #1
  • 16 years on Wife
  • and 33 years figuring out myself

Ping already has a 4 year head start on figuring herself out... which means, I'm 4 years behind knowing her.

But that's OK. I guess really, all that means is that I'm gonna have to work extra hard to figure her out...

... or, maybe not.

33 years knowing me, and I guess I'm still figuring me out.
16 years figuring out my wife... and who am I kidding... all I know, is bring Chocolate, make the bed in the morning, remember to take out the garbage.

I guess we never really stop learning about each other, or ourselves. I think that's one of the things which makes life fun. If I ever really did figure out my wife, yes there may be more harmony in the household, yes things may get done alot easier, yes there may be less strife, suffering, gnashing of teeth... but what would be the fun in that?

What all this means is that I'm going to have the fun of figuring out those 4 years once I meet her... and then keep figuring her out for the next 80+ years. And re-figuring her out time and time again as she enters each new stage of life. I'm pretty she she will have figured me out in the 1st week. Just give Dad lots of cookies, and he is happy (maybe, when she is ready, we can replace the cookies with hugs, because I know me (and as Kid #3 likes to point out every morning before I go to work "Daddy is Hugs and Kisses Powered") and I can't wait until I get to hug Ping).

2 comments:

  1. She's figure you out, all right. And wrap you snuggly around her little finger!

    Cute post. Loved the story about you kid #2. Our kid #3 is like that.

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  2. I love your description of your three seeking help for you, dangling there. If Ping is anything like our new Rory, she'll stand there, determinedly weaving you a rope while refusing all offers of help, and hitting anyone else who tries to help you while she still has what she perceives of as a chance for success. This is self-sufficiency, the hard way.

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