Freedom

The last two days have felt like freedom. In my mind I said I wasn't going to blog, I wasn't going to comment. There was no pressure. I didn't have to be creative, I didn't have to spill my soul, or decide if today was "nothing day" where I wrote about just that, nothing.

Just being able to read blogs and not having to comment felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I found myself sitting for hours with one particular blog open. Reading everything this person had to write. It was a mommyblog and and a mommmyblog of the most honest kind. One where she didn't say her kids were perfect and she never said that she was the perfect mother. She said quite the opposite and she said it all with an air of smartassery (I totally made that word up.)

Some of you know that my husband came on here and blogged about how maybe, just maybe he was a jerk and that was why I was considering not blogging. And that was true. Well it was true to some degree. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't do anything I don't want to do. Never once did he say not to blog. As a matter of fact my husband is under the misguided notion that people out there need me. That you, my few readers, need me. I tried to tell him he was wrong but he told me he knew that he wasn't. He told me I had a talent and that I was funny and that needed to be put out there.

More than that, he wanted to protect me. Although some things are said in a very funny way, when it comes to the woman that he loves and the mother of his children being insulted, his papa bear instinct took over and he wanted to save me from the big bad world He wanted to swoop in and be my hero. He is my hero. Without trying. No matter how often I assure him that I can protect myself and I can do it well, it doesn't matter. That man has known me since I was a girl of 19. He knows that at the end of the day, we protect and take care of each other. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now I can sit here and act all insulted that maybe, just maybe he felt like I wasn't protecting myself. But at the end of the day, he has my best interests at heart. And his heart is my heart.

So while I was slightly annoyed that my whole world was aired out there and that maybe, just maybe someone would find out that our communication skills weren't perfect. That my husband and I aren't perfect. I realize that if you spent more than 2 minutes and 48 seconds on my blog then you would realize that I am not perfect. I'm ridden with anxiety. And while I'm full of love, so much love, love doesn't get me anywhere that resembles successful to the real world.

As I write this, my sweet, sweet Jason is sitting less than two feet away from me. In our family room we have a desk. On that desk sits this PC, his turntables and five feet from that is Jason's big screen TV and his Bose sound system. He likes to call it the family media center. And while our sweet, currently non-possessed baby slumbers in his crib, I sit and write, he sits and plays records and Monkey is sitting next to him playing Guitar Hero. Some could say that we aren't truly "together" in this room but what we are is all sitting in the same room, warm, cozy and doing things that make all of us happy. And Jason's passion is the soundtrack for my passion.

So I guess what I'm saying here is that I took two days to think. Two days where I focused quite a bit on someone else's words. And through that written word where she told the world she wasn't perfect, I found a sense of perfection. My husband coming on here and writing what he did (which I took down) made me feel like you were all seeing a side of me that I had never shown. And in that I found a certain air of honesty that might not necessarily have been on here before. I''ve always been honest, I just felt I had to protect him to a certain degree. And he took that wall of "protection" and made it crumble. Jason and I aren't perfect. We don't communicate in a perfect manner but we love each other and when we know that something bothers the other we throw ourselves in front of the speeding bus that is life to protect the other.

So now you know.

And I'm not going anywhere.