In my first post, I mentioned that life as I know it is pretty much in a state of chaos and disorder, but for a few shining, beautiful exceptions. And those shining, beautiful exceptions are not any of the situations in my life, but rather, the people who populate the world of That Darn Kat. They are as follows:
Hubby (aka The Delectable One, TDO)
This guy has been my best friend since I was fourteen. The yin to my yang, or at least the yang that I yen for. We had either the great fortune or misfortune to have met each other as spectacularly screwed up teenagers, and clung to each other like moss to a tree long enough to get married at the alarmingly young age of 18. Since you know we got married as fundamentally screwed up teenagers, it’s a pretty safe bet that there have been some…speedbumps on the ol’ highway of eternal love between us. But we’ve navigated them all. And some of them were doozies. Thank you God for HMO-paid-for intensive counseling.
TDO is about six months older than me in human years. I have always thought of him as my beloved hobbit. He loves the creature comforts, does my TDO. And he’s always been a bit practical and conservative. For those that follow this stuff, his enneagram type is Nine. If you know anything about the enneagram, that should tell you alot. If you don’t you should look it up. It’s pretty cool.
Lately, TDO is going through some changes. He’s becoming, dare I say it? Buffer and more manly in many ways. My sweet, sensitive, go with the flow, easygoing hobbit is starting to show the signs of being made of sterner stuff than anybody gave him credit for. I must admit, I find myself intrigued…
Our seven year old son. Jr. Cheeseburger entered the world in Tokyo Japan. I spent much of my pregnancy chilling out in Japanese gardens, floating blissfully in an indoor “bubble” pool, and hanging out at the cherry blossom festival. I was a stay at home mom all during pregnancy and his first year. And he entered the world while mommy dear was in a bit of a medically-applied narcotic haze. He spent his first years of life traveling the world strapped to my back, nursed in the busiest intersection in one of the largest metropolises in the world, and had more frequent flyer miles by the age of two than most grown men. So it is probably understandable that my eldest child has a laid back approach to life. Nothing is terribly serious to the Cheeseburger. Including actually doing his homework and brushing his teeth with his playmate’s MOM’s toothbrush. Jr.’s attitude is “I rinsed it out. Brushing your teeth is important.”
He’s smart as a whip, reads at about two grade levels above his current status, and shames his aunt regularly by beating her at video games. If he employed half the effort into doing work as he does in avoiding it, he’d own his own McDonalds by now. Hmmm. Perhaps I should tell him that. Unlimited chicken nuggets and french fries could just be the thing that finally motivates him….
Her Exalted Highness
My five month old daughter did not have the benefit of the “Zen Pregnancy Experience” that her brother enjoyed. Poor Queenie came into the world after a year that had included her granny’s sad passing due to lung cancer, her mother working full time, her dad getting permanently laid off from his job, and various and sundry other catastrophes of varying severity. She entered the world screaming in righteous indignation over having been pushed, squeezed, poked and prodded for 8 hours of pitocin-induced transit. She was apparently expecting to travel first class, as befitted her title, and was outraged at having arrived coach.
Queenie shows all the signs of having the same scary level of intelligence as her brother, but without the laid-back, low maintenance attitude. Her big blue eyes lock onto yours and say “You better believe you’re going to treat me with the respect I deserve.” All hail the Queen. Perhaps a little too much Aretha Franklin during the pregnancy….
to be continued…