It's a Small Price to Pay for Sleeping in Sunshine

    For years I have been opposing Hero Hottie's constant suggestions to purchase a heating blanket. I had heard too many stories of fires being caused by old and worn blankets and it just made me too nervous.
  On top of that; my frugal natural kept insisting that if we have heat pumping from the vents and we have thick quilts, why do we need to purchase something that seems like a luxury item to me?
   Also, a heating blanket needs to be plugged in. To an outlet. Which somehow has a direct line to our check accounting.
    Now, in my defense, I swear I did not realize just how cold Hero Hottie was getting at night. I didn't. Cross my heart. So you can't think I'm just a big, mean ogre.
   We live in a house that was built before they realized that insulation should always be added so that your walls aren't as cold as the temperature outside. But still; I seriously thought we weren't that cold at night.

   "We need a heating blanket." Hero Hottie said. I had heard this statement many times before. Not just every year before this winter but about every week for the past three months.
    I rolled my eyes. "I'll put more blankets on the bed."
   "You would like a heating blanket." He tried tempting me.
   I shook my head and put even more blankets on the bed. That night I cranked up the heat.
  
   The next evening....
   "We need a heating blanket."
    "We don't. I know we don't."
    "Have you ever tried one? They're pretty nice. You would be warm at night." He was using his tempting voice. The 'I Dare You because You're just being Stubborn' voice. How many things had I agreed to something because he used that voice? Too many. None I regretted but you never tell someone that. ;)
 
     "I'm warm...enough." I said, thinking silently to myself of the night before when I woke up at three and I was freezing. Damn, that wall does feels like an ice cube at night.
     "Did you feel that wall last night? It's like sleeping in an igloo."
     "I don't know. We really don't need one, do we?" How much do heating blankets cost anyway?
     "I'll just sleep in my clothes." He starts to put his jeans back on and another sweatshirt.
    "Really? You're that cold?" I was losing this argument. I could feel it. It was slipping away and if I stuck to my stubbornness than I would definitely be the bad guy.
    He just gave me a look. 
    "Fine. Go see how much they are." I surrendered.

    "They're eighty bucks. It's Queen size and the good one is at Target." He tells me. I swallowed, but I knew my frugal side would protest.
     "Eighty bucks?! For a heating blanket?"
    "But you would be warm. They're so nice."
    "Alright. Lets use the Target gift card from Christmas."  I give in.
    He grins.
    "I was just going to buy towels with it anyway."
    His look is crestfallen. "Do you want to buy towels instead?"
    "No, lets buy a heating blanket." And we leave right then and there before I can change my mind.

   When we get home he happily sets up the heating blanket on our bed, explaining that each side has its own temperature control, so I can adjust my side to what I want. He tells me again that I'm going to love it.
   I'm not convinced but he's overjoyed with our new purchase. And who needs new towels anyway? Just because our towels are starting to look like Swiss cheese.

   He can't keep the grin off his face when he jumps into bed that night and buries himself under the heating blanket. I roll my eyes.
   "You're going to like it." He promises as I slide into my side. The warmth is instant, surrounding me from chin to toes. I nearly moan with the sheer delight of it.
    Why did I protest so long? And why didn't I realize just how cold our uninsulated house really gets? I feel lazy and relaxed under the heating blanket, almost like lying in the sun on the beach. Mmm, this is nice.
   "You like it." He says with a smug grin. Apparently my expression has given me away.
   "Maybe."  I didn't want to concede too much; I would never hear the end of it.
   "See you don't trust me. I've been saying we should buy a heating blanket since we were married and you wouldn't listen to me. But boy, now we realize we like it." He is definitely gloating just a bit about it.
    "Am I going to have to listen to this forever?" Boy, this warmth is nice. Why did I protest so long? I'm forgetting my reasons.
    "Yes. I knew you would like a heating blanket. Aren't they nice?" He's rubbing it in. I'm never going to hear the end of this.
    I pull the blanket over my head. "Yes, they're nice. Now leave me alone. I'm enjoying the blanket."
    He laughs.

Tidal Wave

   Standing on the beach, my toes wiggling in the sand, the sun beats down on my bare shoulders. The small waves lap lazily but steadily against my ankles, drawing out the little tiny crabs from their locations. They flow, helplessly in the wave for a few inches, and then they scurry back, burying themselves in the sand again. But it's only on the edge, where the salty water kisses the land and in a few moments, the cycle repeats.
   The sea offers them an abundant serving of tasty things that crabs like to eat and I notice that some of the crabs like to stay near the long green ribbons of seaweed.
    The tides comes and goes and their life is intertwined with it, regardless of how hard they have to work to keep from completely being washed out to sea or the fact that they can't be too far away either. Danger lurks from being too far away from the sea. The heat of the sun, the sharp beak of a seagull, or the lack of food.
   And through all this, they never give up.
   But do they really have a choice.

   Sometimes I feel like life is that edge between ocean and land. Richly abundant and teeming with adventure but also dangerous and wearing. 
   How many events in my life has swept me off my feet like an ocean wave and threatened to take me out to sea? Some I saw coming....others were unexpected. There's a rule about the ocean...don't turn your back on it. Is that the same about life...don't turn your back on miscommunications or bad habits least they become tidal waves?
   Life ebbs and flows and we are intertwined with its rhythms; regardless if we want to be or not. When the weather is good and the ocean is calm we need to enjoy the sun warming our souls and the sand between our toes.
   When the weather is bad and the ocean is crazy we need to take cover; knowing that all storms eventually come to an end and the sun will shine again.
  
   So for right now this girl is going to find a rock ledge to hide under and wait for the storm to pass; letting the waves wash away the debris of gathered negative thoughts and when the sun breaks and the ocean glows with its warmth; this girl's going sunbathing.

Hero Hottie to the Rescue

    Tacos are a staple in our dinner routine. We use corn tortillas, Amy's refried beans and fresh lettuce and green onions. It's an easy and completely gluten free meal. Because of Bean's gluten allergies her comfort foods aren't the usual American meals. She likes mac and cheese but it's not quite the same with the rice noodles. It was only recently that we finally found a hamburger bun that made having burgers worth it. Before these latest hamburger buns we were stuck with hard, round, thick, dense pieces of bread that could have been used for hockey pucks when they dried out.
   So tacos became her comfort food. And they became my go to meal when I needed something I could make in less than fifteen minutes. Because unless you're rich, eating gluten free is vastly time consuming. There are so many things that have to be prepared from scratch. I suppose I don't cook more than my great Aunt Dottie ever did for her family forty years ago but I'm a woman of the 21st century, I thought long hours in the kitchen was something you read about in the history books.
   Not something I was going to have to participate in.
   And since eating out is a lot like playing Russian roulette when you have gluten allergies, we prefer to stay home. The few places and the handful of meals we have determined to be safe for our girls to eat are also menu items that have to be made from scratch and cost quite a bit. We don't eat fast food. Our favorite places to eat are local restaurants. But that makes going out to eat a treat and not a weekly break from cooking.
   And not only do I have to prepare dinner from scratch but lunch too. Luckily, we found a decent bread and bagel for toast in the mornings.
   But after a few years of both my girls being gluten free, preparing food at home is finally easy.

   Two nights ago though, I started cutting green onions and preparing rice and I just started crying. The easiest meal I could prepare and it was too much. I wanted to sit down in the middle of the kitchen and give up.
   "I just feel so overwhelmed." I told hero hottie, as I cried while the stirring the refried beans.
    He frowned, concerned."I know how you feel."
    Because his life has been overwhelming lately too, since his employers decided to make his life crazy with  new rules and new schedules. It has been weeks since we all sat down and had dinner together. On top of that his good friend, Justin is moving to the East Coast in a few weeks. And then he is faced with a wife that is crying while making dinner.
    "I know." I sniffled.
    I don't usually cry while making dinner, not since I figured out how to prepare all our foods gluten free. But it had been a long day, which had been proceeded by an even longer week and I just felt drained by too many things.
   Perhaps my three year old niece using me to unleash her anger on and constantly calling me 'meanie.' And 'You're the dumbest Aunt Christy, ever." over the past two weeks was too much. Even though I'm glad she feels safe and secure enough with me to express her feelings.
   Maybe my frustration over a school system that wants my daughter enrolled there because she can produce strong test scores, and make them look good but they don't really care about her education; had me on edge. 
   Or sometimes, when I have a hundred million emotions running through me; worries and doubts; fear and frustration; missing hero hottie and an inability to fix my loved ones problems; I just have to release my own emotions. 
   I chopped green onions, tears rolling down my cheeks and I wondered how I could ever be strong enough to be not only what everyone else needed from me but to also be myself.
  
    But as Moms, don't we have a habit of trying to take care of everyone first that we are totally drained before we take the time to care for ourselves? We wipe noses, and help with homework, we have long talks about the meaning of life with our little ones, desperately hoping we're teaching them something that will guide them later and we slay monsters under the bed. We learn to cook anyway our kids need us too and we keep our tempers when faced with naughty behaviors.
  
   Hero hottie didn't know what to do for me though. So I thought he did the sweetest thing he possibly could. Yesterday he had Justin come over, since the guy can cook like a professional and with hero hottie acting like a sous chef; they filled the crock pot with dinner. 
   When I was finished babysitting the 'little girls' as I call my nieces, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of an Italian stew or gumbo or whatever Justin had called it.
    I called it wonderful. Dinner; gluten free and hot and ready to serve. Bean and Abu were okay with it. The stew contained chunks of tomatoes in it, which for as much as they like ketchup, pizza sauce, and tomato soup; I can not get them to eat chunks of tomato. But they tried it.
   I loved it. It had a base of fire roasted tomatoes in Italian seasonings, with a yummy mixture of hot Italian sausage, sweet corn and slightly crunchy green beans.
   The best part; it was already cooked!!
  Then hero hottie played card games with Bean and Abu while I took an uninterrupted bath. As a Mom, do you know the percentage of baths I have taken that I wasn't solving problems from the other side of the bathroom door?

   After the girls were in bed, he asked me. "Do you feel better?"
   I nodded. My worries were still there, they weren't just going to go away but I felt better able to handle them. Restored.
   "Yeah, I do. Thank you." I hugged him.
   He smiles. "Good. Because I've been planning that for a few days now since I noticed you were starting to have difficulties." He just had to wait until he was home to pull it off.
   "You've noticed?" I asked, surprised that he knew I was needing some TLC long before I started crying over making tacos.
   He nodded.

   Now that's true love. Not romantic flowers and diamonds; not sappy Hallmark card;

     but just love...simply.