Just Come with Us

As Rob and I get busier, we have conversations of a different sort.  New kinds.  For a while that was a bit frustrating and stressful, and now it just Is.  We're figuring out the new set of rules.

A while back, for instance, Rob was frustrated at me being gone so much.  And I was thinking, "What are you TALKING ABOUT?!  I'm gone 2 or 3 nights a week.  That's just as much as you're gone, and you've been doing it for years!"  My mother brilliantly pointed out that while I'm used to Rob not being around for dinner 2 nights a week, this is all new for Rob.  Dinner without Rob has become normal, but dinner without Tamra still seems wrong.  "Ah!" I said as that light bulb flashed on.  "Yes, I remember those days."

It's funny to watch Rob.  I still sometimes feel like I'm talking to Tamra 5 years ago.  Seeing myself in his shoes makes it possible for me to stay calm and not say things like, "Going back to school was YOUR idea and NOW you're going to COMPLAIN about it?  And when's the last time I complained about YOUR busy schedule?!  Huh?!  Do you know what I've sacrificed for you?!"  Those are words that no one needs to say or hear.  :)  Whenever I feel them creeping into my heart, I let them float to the surface and then I let them float away, recognized but unspoken.

There were, however, words of a different sort that needed to be said the other day.  Not by Rob.  Not by me.  By Teancom.  The kids wanted to go see Kui, the dog we had for a year but who is now owned by friends who love and adore her.  This has been a good arrangement for everyone - they love her, she's happier, and we can visit any time we want.  So we arranged to drive over there on Sunday afternoon. 

Except I was busy.  I figured that a few quiet moments of reading my book for class would be perfect.  The day before, Rob had taken the kids to the park and I stayed home and slept and read, and it was great.  They didn't seem to mind that I didn't go with them, they had fun, and I got the time I needed.  So, why not a repeat?

Rob asked if I was going with them.  I said, "I don't know.  Do you need me to go?"  And he said that it was up to me.  I leaned towards staying, but then decided that I really should go.  It was only a short family outing.  I was putting on my shoes when Teancom said, "Is Mommy coming, too?"  When Rob said I was, he shouted, "Hurray!" and jumped up and down.

That shout sounded familiar.  I reached back into my memory and there was the exact situation, 5 years ago.  Busy Rob, with too much work on his plate, stressed out and trying to keep it together.  We were going somewhere as a family on a Saturday afternoon and I walked up to him and said, "Rob, just come with us.  You'll like it.  The kids need you."  And then, after he sighed and rubbed his face, he nodded and went to put his shoes on.  Miciah asked if Daddy was coming, too, and when I said he was, she and Elijah jumped up and down and shouted "Hurray!"

Just like Tank had just done with me.

It really hit me.  I realized that the kids are now one-parent-deprived most of the time.  They have one of us nearly always, but both of us together is a treat.

And there I was, Tamra 5 years ago, inside my own head, saying "Just come with us.  You'll like it.  The kids need you."  Except I wasn't talking to Rob this time.  I was talking to me.