little pink houses for you and me....

First off, since you asked, I married a man I met on the internet. It's worked out well - I'm not sure now, after almost five years of marriage, that he's the soul-mate/perfect person/absolute best person for me, (and, really, how can anyone ever be sure??) but we love each other and we have a solid relationship. I moved here,from Michigan to be with him.

I moved from a city to a hamlet that consists of a post office, a general store, a church, and a fire hall. Actually, we live across the river from the town, in a bedroom community that most people don't know exists. Everything else we have to drive fifteen minutes for. It's lovely here, out in the boonies, there's a river that wends through the village, and the house we have faces the river and it's a lovely, low, constant sound. I miss the waves of Lake Michigan more than I ever thought I would, so being able to walk outside at night and hear the sounds of the falls is soothing, and at the same time raises pangs of homesickness...

The trouble with living in an old town, though, is that there are generations of people that live here that consider it their right to know exactly what you are doing at all times. The nosiness of people is astonishing. Bear is sometimes annoyed that I don't want to share news with family or neighbors, but I'm just not comfortable telling everyone everything.

oh! These children!

"Better than you are" is how my mother put it, and now I realize exactly what she meant. I want so much for these children that my heart hurts, thinking of it. How does anyone prepare their kids for the world? Casserole is already loud and boisterous, and it's just a matter of time before some child at the day care refuses to play with him, or won't give him a toy...Rosey I still have time to fret about. At four months old, she's more concerned with her own toes than social niceties. Maybe I should take a leaf from her book - and not worry about what's going to happen. But how does a mother NOT worry about her firstborn?

When he was born, there was no more beautiful baby ever. That still applies. He is the best thing I've ever done. One thing, however, that having two kids teaches you very quickly is that your beautiful, perfect child is actually a bit more human than you originally thought - he will run and yell in the house, and there are no guarantees that he'll love his little sister.

She, of course, worships him, her whole face crinkled into a grin whenever he's around. He avoided her for the first three weeks after we brought her home, until one night Bear lost patience and plopped Rosebud into his lap - and then he, startled, said "MY sister" and is more cheerful (and possessive!) when she's around. I'm afraid, though, that this honeymoon period will end when Rosey gets her 'sea legs' and starts going after his toys.

"Better than me" - I should have it tattoed on my wrist, so I see it whenever I look at the time.