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Dear husband, you’re not doing a good job…
Dear husband, you’re not doing a good job right now. I mean, not that I would ever tell you. And why should I? You should just know these things.
Things like knowing that: If I reply to your message with ‘K’ then I’m probably NOT “okay”. And my clipped, “whatever” and “do it if you want”, probably means I DON’T want you to do it. But you should easily pick that up. I mean, you should just know.
You should also know that when you sit in front of your computer for hours (the fact that it’s work related is not the point here, husband), my
deathintense stares probably mean that I need a little bit of attention. Yes, years later and I still get needy sometimes. Not that I would tell you.In fact, I shouldn’t HAVE to tell you that I dislike it when you get more excited about soccer than my latest work/friend/child-related saga update. I should be the only excitement in your life. And seriously, I don’t have to tell you that when I reference a giant, pink, cupcake on social media, it probably means that you need to show me your undying devotion by finding me said giant cupcake. (It has to be pink too.) I mean, why should I tell you. You should just know.
Husband, if you were doing a good job, then why didn’t you notice my freshly styled hair last week? Okay, I admit it’s still the same length. And still the same color. But it was “freshly styled” and you didn’t notice. Not doing a good job at all. If you were doing a good job you would’ve complimented me on the exquisite way I did my eye make up on Sunday. It looked SO good. I know this because Estelle, at church, noticed. But you didn’t. And no, I didn’t think to mention it to you because you should just know. Why should I tell you?
If you were doing a good job you would’ve stepped out of your mythical “nothing box” (which I don’t understand or believe in) and picked up that I wanted a foot rub, the other day, when I took my shoes off and sighed really loudly. Or that I needed you to rub my back when I walked into the kitchen semi-groaning, holding on to my fragile parts. I didn’t tell you because I figured that you should just know!
I mean, husband, if you were so amazing at being a husband, you would’ve known that I expected you to hold my hand the other morning when that old love jam played on the radio. Sure, I could have held yours… but, honestly, I expected you to make the first move. You should just know, duh. Just like you should have picked up that I wanted to watch a romantic movie, last Friday, when the kids went to bed early. But I would never, ever tell you that. Why should I?
In fact, why do I need to tell you anything at all? Husbands should just know. I’m not saying read my mind. But you’re my husband now so that means that you basically have to. Doesn’t it come with the package? So something’s not right here. I know I’m being rational. So it’s probably you. Not that I would tell you. You should just know.
Disclaimer: My hubstopher isn’t really all that bad, but yes, I’ll admit that I can be a bit loony toons on occasion. (The hormones, blame the hormones). Wife, girlfriend, do you get this way sometimes? I think that we are all faced with various levels of challenges when it comes to communication. Yes, even you Super Wife, shaking your head at me. I often have to remind myself to SAY SOMETHING instead of expecting this guy (who is probably really sitting in his “nothing box”) to know what I want.
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My week in pics: micro fashion, bridesmaid dresses and nail art
This week feels like someone literally took a drive down to a garbage dump, chose a few items, wrapped it up and wrote “Luchae’s week” on it. But then I check out my week in pics and realize that I am being an Aunty Moana – I am blessed, God is good and I have so much to be thankful for!
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Marriage, weddings and saying yes to the dress
Wedding photos taken by Donna vd Watt Photography As I’ve mentioned before, a bunch of our friends (who happened to be part of our bridal party when we got married) have said yes to the dress and are also getting married now! I’d like to think that it was our inloveness that rubbed off on them. (Shameless credit hogging)
As friendship would have it, Chris and I have both been asked to be bridesmaid/groomsmen in these weddings, so it’s kinda taking me back into “wedding freak out” mode. In a good way. I love the excitement of weddings and the thought that 2 people are about to enter into a beautiful covenant together! Part of my wedding speech, to Chris, was that although I am sister, daughter, friend to many, I am wife to only ONE! Marriage is such a beautiful thing. Good job God, good job.
Anyways, so today I went with Risa to fit on her wedding dress and lo and behold what do I spot in the dressmakers shop? My wedding dress! AACK! I had it “made to hire” because really, what must I do with a
wedding dress after the wedding? Just seeing it hang there brought back sooo much memories and emotions.The pic doesn’t do the color justice. I had purposefully chosen a champagne/goldy dress because (besides for steering away from the conventional white) I wanted something that represented where Chris and I were at in our lives. I mean, it’s no secret that we had a kid each, going into this marriage. And for me, although God has restored like only He can, wearing all white simply did not symbolise exactly what He has done in my life. He took a dream that seemed to be broken and impossible and turned it into pure gold! This dress, in many ways, was me shedding the old and putting on new robes. It is a testament to how God is able to turn ashes into beauty.
And besides for all that spiritual stuff, I think that amidst all the wedding planning and preps, choosing your wedding dress and fitting it on for the very first time kinda gives you the best kind of “this is actually happening!” feeling. I obviously cried when I fit my dress on the first time (obviously) and I remember feeling like a princess in it.
Sigh
Don’t mind me, I’m just going to sit here and wallow in some nostalgia….
What is your wedding dress story, friends?
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Life with sons: starting a band, baby…
Our kids are weird.
I say this with all the love in the world.
These boys (aged 10 and 13) literally sit and sing together, while playing XBox. And I’m not saying this because they have amazing, Luciano Pavarotti voices. Nope, they just enjoy singing, randomly. They don’t even sing popular, trending, songs… their choice of chorus are theme songs – Movie theme songs, ad jingles, series theme songs.
Them, 6 years ago Sometimes it’s funny. Sometimes it’s “shhh the baby is sleeping!” Sometimes we all join in. (How Highschool Musical of us) And sometimes, I’d be in the kitchen, humming a little tune (and by “humming” I mean “belting out” and by “little tune” I mean “Mariah Carey”) and one of them would join in! As if I invited them! I mean, hello, can you not see the spatula (aka mic) in MY hand?! Is nothing sacred anymore?!
Seth (the youngest) also has a habit of memorising tv ads. He knows all the words, all the songs and sometimes even mimics the actions! Kyle is a movie quoter. He is so NOT good at doing the accents but insists on telling you exactly what the lead actor said, in accent, even though you were sitting right next to him, watching the exact same movie a few minutes ago! He also quotes stand up comedians (thanks alot Trevor Noah) and sometimes says things and just leaves it in the air… no point. No reason behind the story.
Example: “Mommy, so today my friend picked up his pencil from the floor and then I was like, haha your pencil fell…” Okay. And then?
Our first date was a quadruple date – kids entow With all of that said, I remember something a dad of 3 once told us about his boys.
He said “The best thing I could ever have done for my son is to give him brothers.” (Thanks Manny) I was reminded of it this weekend, while watching these 2 together.
Flashback – few years ago: It was a couple of years after Kyles dad and I had split up and I remember feeling a bit disheartened thinking that my boy would not experience the joy (and torture) of having a sibling that is close in age to him. I mean, I love my sister – we are 3 years apart, and I remember many days of playing Barbie dolls together (me cutting her dolls hair in my “salon”… her crying about it) and hey those were some of the best days of my life. So I was really sad that my boy would not experience that. I mean, at best, his next biological sibling would be 10 years his junior. So no playmate for him.Enter: Hubstopher and his boy. I think that the pair came at just the right time, age and height! I found the man of my dreams, and our boys found each other. The 4 of us fit together like a puzzle. (I said something along these lines at our wedding too. And I wrote a song about it. So original.)
So yes, our kids are weird. But they are also extremely awsome! Both sets of moms and dads (on either side) are married with a baby and these 2 have taken to it very well! In fact, they are stellar big brothers to their half sisters and brother and they are amazing step brothers to each other. They have their disagreements but I am so pleased at how well they get along. They stand up for each other, like brothers. They sometimes tell on each other, like brothers. And hey, now they sing together too. So yes, we are starting a band baby, starting a band.
