He’s My Husband.

There is a wonderful person in my life.

Someone I feel lucky to know, and lucky to be around.

Someone I am proud of every single day.

Someone that makes me feel special, no matter what happens.

He holds me when I’m sad.

He makes me laugh.

He kisses like he means it.

His son is the center of his world.

His smile is the center of mine.

His heart is too big to fit in his chest, so he wears it on his sleeve.

Time goes by, and I love him more.

Time goes by, and he loves me better.

Time goes by so quickly.  I can’t imagine a day without him.

Loyal.

Strong.

Proud.

Stubborn.

Sweet.

Romantic.

Sexy.

I have never known another man like him.

And I never will.

He is my husband.

Happy Birthday, Brock, My love.

You make my world go round.

Tee Hee!

I’ve been reading back through my old Xanga archives, trying to find something fun to post today.

What I found was this.  I remember writing it, but I don’t remember realizing how good it was!

This made me smile.

From my Xanga Archives – 12/27/2007

Umm… I wrote a mushy poem.  Why not share it?

—————————————————————————

My love for Brock is never ending,
and it didn’t really start…
I think it’s always been there,
just hidden in my heart.

When I was just a baby,
I think I knew it even then,
I was always meant to meet him,
But had no idea when.

When I became a little girl,
his face was in my mind.
I thought he was a prince or king,
of the most impressive kind.

As a silly teenager,
all the guys I met were wrong.
I even dated some of them,
not knowing all along.

One day when I would find him,
when everything just ‘fit’,
I wouldn’t have to think about
the fact that “this is it.”

I didn’t recognize it,
I guess it wasn’t plain to see,
how much I really liked him,
how much he cared for me.

But somehow we just found ourselves
not able to say no,
not able to just walk away,
not able to let go.

This way we were attracted,
and how it nearly made me sing
…I know now that it was because
I had finally found my King.

My Valentine.

Another Valentine’s Day has come and gone.

This is one holiday that I have no particular like nor dislike for.  I don’t look forward to it… I usually forget about it until the week before.  I don’t really WANT or EXPECT anything for Valentine’s day, and am always lovingly surprised when my husband does something wonderful.

This year, he wrote a letter.  Yes, ladies and gents, he HAND WROTE a love letter.  He left it sitting by the front door, and I read it as soon as I walked in from work.  I had a hard time getting to the bottom of the page because I had started crying.  Yup, he wrote a whole page about how much he loves me.

Isn’t it funny, though?  Just two weeks ago, it was all we could do not to yell at each other every day.  We didn’t even want to spend time together if given the choice, because we just kept ending up at odds.

People always say relationships change.  I read once that passion is like the tide… it ebbs and flows.  The older I get, and the more we go through difficult times together, the more I realize that those things are really true.  Yes, there are days when we can’t stand the sight of each other.  Yes, there are times when we don’t really seem to want the same things.  And yes, there are really moments when the relationship seems in vain and we can’t figure out what we’re doing.

But.

But there are times when things are so wonderful, when all we want is to be together, and the kisses are amazing, and the sex is unbelievable… times when we talk, and cuddle, and never get enough.  Those times make everything else so worth it.  They make the rest of the days worth putting up with.  We find ourselves going out of our way to make the other person happy.  Everything just fits.

I love my husband so much today.  I love him every day, but today I know that our love can last forever, even though a week ago I questioned it.  And days like today will help remind me that even though sometimes things are bad, we will always be okay.

The Videogame and The Baby.

Let’s get right into it – no pulling punches.

My husband plays videogames.  I’m not surprised, nor was I unaware of this fact when I fell in love with him.  Much of the groundwork of our relationship was laid when we played World of Warcraft together as friends.  And I will give him so very much credit; since we have been together, he has dialed back his gaming time to a fantastic degree.  He still likes to play when I’m sleeping, or when I’m gone at work, but when I’m home and we’re together… we are together.  There has never really been a time in the last three and a half years that I wished he would just put down his stupid game and come spend time with me.

Enter: baby.TBRonan112409-2

Ronan has added a whole new function to the equation.  We’ve all heard stories about those parents that stuff their kids in a closet in order to play games in peace, or that have neglected to feed their children for weeks while participating in a raid.  There is no fear of that here, in this household.  There is no competition between Ronan and a videogame.

There is, however, some troubling overlap.  And this is where Brock and I don’t see eye to eye.

I may be a little strong-willed in my beliefs.  There are certain things I hold to be true above all else, and I insist on making it so.  I don’t subscribe to the school of thought on allowing my child to cry it out.  I did not feed my son solid foods before his sixth month.  I will nurse until he is one year old.  And… I don’t think children should see violence, even before they are old enough to recognize it for what it is.  I don’t know why I feel this way, I don’t even know if it’s a relevant fear.  I have these images in my mind of children learning through what they see… isn’t that the point of educational television?  If he can learn to count to ten in Spanish from Dora the Explorer, couldn’t he possibly learn that a sharp object can be used to stab someone and make them bleed?  What do we have to gain from allowing him to learn that?

So, I instituted a rule.  No violent videogames or TV shows to be played/watched/seen when Ronan is within viewing distance.  I didn’t really think that it was a bad rule, and Brock didn’t really object.  We’ve turned off movies that were too graphic and waited to watch them when Ronan was in bed.  We’ve covered his eyes if there was a part of an episode that we thought was inappropriate.  We’ve been sticking to it, and that made me happy.

Enter: Assassin’s Creed 2.

Brock had the luxury of playing the first installment of this console game while I was still pregnant, and there were no ‘rules’.   Assassin’s Creed is a unique game in that there is a large amount of content that is decidedly non-violent.  Much of the time in-game is spent exploring, spying, hunting treasure, and pushing the storyline forward.  There are, however, large portions of the game that involve killing people; come on, now… it’s called ASSASSIN’S Creed.

Our typical scenario occurs when Brock is running around in-game, minding his own business and doing one of the many fight-free objectives.  Ronan plays nearby on the floor, having little to no interest in the colors and shapes on the television screen.  Suddenly, a fight breaks out in-game, and Brock is intently doing battle.  There are swords and fists flying, blood is splattering, and people are yelling out in agony.  Ronan immediately becomes VERY interested, and can’t peel his eyes from the screen.  I look over, notice what is going on, and bring it to Brock’s attention that he’s allowing Ronan to watch digital people be killed.

This same scenario occurs several times over the course of an evening.  I start to get frustrated, because I don’t think Brock takes it seriously, nor is he paying enough attention to his surroundings to notice what he is subjecting his child to.  Brock gets upset because he thinks it’s my responsibility to “distract” Ronan whenever he gets into a fighting situation that I don’t want Ronan to see.  He told me that he doesn’t think it’s such a big deal for Ronan to watch what’s going on, and if I’m the one that’s worried about it, I should be the one dealing with it.  I feel that if he’s not attentive enough to be sure he’s not killing people while Ronan is watching, he shouldn’t be playing while Ronan is awake.

Enter:  The fight.

Brock and I had our first knock-down, drag-out over this one.  I don’t really know which of us is right or wrong.  I don’t know how to reconcile the difference in opinion.  I just know that I don’t want my kid knifing some other kid in the park, standing over him, and saying, “I live by the creed.”