I spend a lot of time complaining on this blog. Famous singers/song writers often say they are most creative at their darkest times. Maybe that's true for all of us. Or maybe we're just more motivated to share our hardships than we are our celebrations (it is fun to bitch sometimes, no?).
Life is hard. But if it weren't difficult at times, we'd never be able to appreciate the truly good times.
Olivia will be 3 in August. It seems as though these past few years have flown by. Initially, I wasn't looking forward to the idea of motherhood. Once I had the privilege of meeting my daughter however, my mind took a different focus. I am so blessed to have such a beautiful, smart, and (honestly, for the most part, even though I like to complain about her) very well behaved young girl. She's leaving the stages of her baby-ness. It makes me sad and I wish I could hold her while she sleeps on my chest again, but everyday she does something else that I'm sure I'll be missing just as much within a few short years. She puts up with me and our crazy life. She trusts me completely and really loves me for no reason at all. I think that the blind faith held by most young children is enviable to us older folk, and frankly, something I strive for on a daily basis. Belief was a lot easier to capture during our more innocent years.
Yesterday, Rick helped me clean the house. This is not a new phenomenon, and I know I take his willingness to help for granted a lot of the time. Yesterday though, he cleaned the entire bathroom all by himself! He used bleach, cleaned the counter, even had it smelling nice, all without mentioning it to me once! Usually, I'd at least expect a "What do I do with the soap?" question, but no, he handled it all on his own. I know this isn't a huge feat. I also know by talking to other women that many of us do not have partners that are willing to take on domestic tasks. I struggle with letting him help me. The other night, I was cooking dinner and cleaning and my answer to his "what can I do to help?" question was "get out of my way." Instead, he went to another room to clean up. I'm starting to realize that while I do a lot, it is often by choice. If letting Rick put away the dishes (even if it's not always done correctly by my standards) gives me a chance to relax and take a break, I should let him! This is something I've just realized and am going to try to implement in our lives. I've never enjoyed needing help. I absolutely HATE asking for help. I've had to do it so much throughout my life and have been blessed by friends that are willing to help me, even when I was resentful about being helped in the first place. But Rick seems to be in this for the long haul.
This morning, as we were picking up cat litter and other trash that the racoon had torn out last night, with the dogs and cats running wildly thoughout the house, while Olivia cried for help with the potty, while my phone was ringing and everything else seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket, I thought about how much Rick must love us. Or how completely, horrible, terribly infrigginsane he must be to put up with so much chaos.
Either way, life is good.
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