So Cole's off to Science Camp, Dave's back to Montana, and I'm back to lovin' on my blog. We had a lovely weekend. Great to have some quality time with Dave, marked by a rather intense
heart-to-heart* on Sunday. Amazing the clarity that comes from spending two weeks apart, and apparently, there were some things we needed to iron out.
In a nutshell, we need to remember to speak each other's love languages. Have you read that book? The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman? I just picked me up a copy yesterday (even though I was familiar with the basic concepts). Now, when I say "we" I mean me. Apparently, even though I feel like I'm screaming from the mountain tops how much I love and adore my husband, to him I may as well be saying, "Wah wah wah wah wah wah." I simply have not been speaking his love language. And we've been here before. And he's taught me his language before. But, gradually, over time I slip back into speaking my native tongue, and he feels neglected and unloved. This is always devastating and shocking news to me, because anyone who knows me, even a little bit, knows that I love my husband more than anything on God's Green Earth. I'm surprised that I can even share this on my blog, 'cause here's the deal. I'm not a perfect mom. Yeah, yeah, yeah...who is?, you say. But I really thought that I would be and it comes as a bit of a shock to me that I'm not. I make mistakes everyday in my mothering career, but I honestly thought (and took comfort in knowing) that at least I'm a kick ass wife (Am I allowed to use mild profanity on my blog? They say it in Shrek, you know...).
So, to hear, from the perfect mouth of the person I love the most, that he doesn't feel loved...well, let's just say the words "BIG, FAT, FAILURE" come to mind, which, on Sunday, was almost more than I could bear. Now, please do not feel sorry for me. I have an excellent marriage, and this type of break down and the subsequent growth that spurs from it, is what makes it so. Besides, as they say, making up is always fun.
In summary, I know Dave knows that I love him more than anything. And I know that I'm a kick ass wife. But, I also know that my native love language is often lost on him. Therefore, I am very excited to hone my language skills so that I can more fully express my love for my husband in a way that he can understand. Amen.
I hope I haven't bared my soul too egregiously for anyone. But lately, I'm all about being honest. Painfully honest. What other option is there, really?
*I call it a heart-to-heart because in the end I like to think we grew from it. (Plus I'm a cup half full kinda girl). However, I do recognize that most people would simply call it a lovers' quarrel (and even that's being mild).
**Sweetie, I hope you don't mind that I shared so many gory details of our weekend, but I know that you're all about being honest, too.
P.S. I love you. hee hee