I’m looking through old stuff tonight.
Old entries, old emails. God. I just apologized to Jason for how much of a wife I am to him over email: like a stereotypical, shrewish wife. I don’t think I’m like that at all in person– what he comes home to at the end of the day is a smiling, chipper buddy who always stocks the fridge with his favorite food and snacks, listens to his stories, laughs at his jokes, offers a foot rub, and enthusiastically joint-watches ‘Ninja Warrior’ and ‘Doctor Who’. His life with me in REALITY is pretty fantastic. His life with me in EMAIL form? IT SUCKS. It’s like, CONSTANT nagging.
Did you remember to check on the healthcare?
Did you remember to ask your boss about that sale?
Have you called your mom this week?
Did you take off for Eli’s school ceremony?
You never put the pads on the bench, now my floor’s all scraped up!
TAKE THE CAR IN FOR INSPECTION!
Why is your paycheck different this week? What happened, I’M FREAKING OUT
Paycheck differences– either higher or lower than budgeted– comprise like 34% of my emails to him. I apparently care about paychecks. A LOT. There’s also a sad amount of these:
Your computer just went black and started crying and I swear I was barely touching it.
My emails to other people follow trends, too. My parents’ focus on planning the next visit and pirates. My sister’s focus on CAPS and GURLLLLLL and LINKS CLICK THIS LINK HA HA YOU WILL LIKE IT! Audrey’s focus on food, more food, and sales on Fab. Tony’s focus on gossip, almost exclusively, be it in the world at large (THEY KILLED BIN LADEN!) or in our own lives (HOW DID I ONLY EAT TWO POUNDS OF CAKE BUT GAIN SIX POUNDS!).
I rarely email my kids. I leave them notes in Moshi Monsters. Heh. We all have accounts, so I go to their room in the game and stick Post-its on their wall. I don’t know if it’s really lame that I’m their mom, so I just pretend to be a friend. Although that might be MORE lame. That I’m the oldest person ever to play Moshi Monsters.
“You’re 29?” Elias gasped when I did the age sign-up. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Thirty in a couple months.”
“Oh,” he answered seriously. “I’m sorry.”
I laughed. I laugh at all their honest reactions to things, because, you know. They’re honest. You have to love that about children. I was telling Audrey in one of our food-emails that I ran out of cereal the other day, and decided to make them pancakes from scratch. I’m like, look at me, all Ratatouille. Throw in some bananas, some cinnamon. OH HEY I’LL PUT HONEY ON TOP INSTEAD OF SYRUP. And now I went from Ratatouille to Human Pinterest, just like that. Heh.
Bring them to Addie. She eats. Eyes go wide. “Wow,” she enthuses. “What box did THESE come from?”
Yeah. And when I told her none, she tried to describe the Eggo box to me, like I would REMEMBER that I actually bought these in the frozen section and was wrongly accepting credit for them.
My kids. Man.
They’re so great. They’re so OLD. I was looking at Ads today– we went out to buy groceries tonight, late– and she’s wearing a little jean skirt with wedge sandals. Her legs are so long. She’s going to be all legs, that one. And she’s just– lovely. Just so LOVELY. She’s a clown when she knows you’re paying attention, and the queen of purposely awful expressions and awkward photos, but when you catch her at a quiet moment– I look at her sometimes and it’s like I can already see how beautiful she’s going to be as a teenager. As a grown woman.
Elias, too. That kid is so handsome I don’t even know what to do with him.
We’ve been having a low key summer over here. They’re doing the Moshi Monsters, the Roblox. A lot of computer stuff. I make them go outside and take walks and run around in the sprinklers with their cousins, heh, but they’re definitely our kids, and they could happily play online all day. We’ve been going to the library. Reading books. It seems like so long since I’ve read something tactile. Held a book in my hands, you know. I love it. I’ve missed it.
Jason and I, like I said, have gotten into Doctor Who. I watched an episode a few years ago which didn’t really impress me, but this time we started with later seasons, and Matt Smith sucked me in. We’re halfway through the sixth season now, and I’m enjoying it for the sci-fi horror slash mystery aspect, but– yeah, still. Matt Smith. He becomes a little more magical every episode.
Anyway. It’s late. There isn’t much point to this entry other than to have something up. The older entries I read made me smile and get nostalgic, and– you know, it’s funny how many little things I thought were boring, stupid, pointless, whatever to recap at the time. Now, those little asides are precious. I figure I might as well keep documenting the mundane minutiae of my life for future Becca to enjoy. Heh. Speaking of! Getting a big haircut tomorrow afternoon. I’ve been considering one for almost two years, but kept it long because J likes it that way. I finally just made a command decision, today, to hack it off.
Chin length, I think. I’m going to splurge on a Brazilian blowout, too. There’s a place around here that’s well reviewed and is offering it at almost half the other salons, so– it’s still expensive, but I’ve been really, really good with money the past year, and extra responsible lately. I don’t know why I need to defend myself, heh, but I always feel like I do. Like, I want to be all I PROMISE I DESERVE THIS, PLEASE DON’T JUDGE. I have never had straight, frizz-free hair in my life before, and I want to experience it. At least once.
Oh! AND. And. Thank you all for being so wonderful about my mother. Thank you for your emails, comments, messages, prayers and music. They meant the world to me, and to her. She’ll be starting chemo after she gets back from Maine– she and my dad decided to sail their favorite schooner first. The treatment could wait just a couple weeks, and she wanted to make the most of them. So here they are– my parents, this morning, in the airport shuttle, ready for the next adventure–
I know. I just love them, too.