Happy cats make for happy homes

adolescence Alabama beliefs blogging calm change Chicago crisis crushes dreams family fear flint hills food friends happiness health being a hippie holiday home internship kids loss love magic memories money music parties perfection plants projects relationships relaxation reminiscing ritual school social work issues spirits sports stress style the South violence weather weather worries writing



Go now. Go.

There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself
Subscribe to this blog
for e-mail updates

Wednesday, February 02, 2005


When I got out of the shower this morning, Tim was awake, sitting up in bed, looking for all the world like a puppy who was about to explode.

"I need to smother you right now!" he said.

"I have PMS," I responded.

"Oh," he said. "I'll give you space then. But just remember, if you need to be smothered, I'm in a smothering mood."

I love how understanding he is. It puts me in a much better frame of mind to be smothered. So I let him smother me once right before I left for work (late, so I was even grumpier), and now that I'm at work, the only place I want to be is back home in his arms. But I suspect that if I were actually there, I'd be grumpy about something new, and not want to be touched.

But he's working late this week, 9 a.m. to 11:30 p.m. with only a break for dinner, so I'll have a chance to properly miss him if my hormones would stop acting so wily.

Before I ever shared a bed with anyone on a regular basis, I'd hear women talk about not being able to sleep when their partners were gone. And I thought, "poor, pathetic woman. What's wrong with you, can't you sleep on your own?" I thought I'd love having a break from sharing a bed, because all I knew was how much I liked sprawling across my own. And how hard it was to share a bed with someone, the every now and then that I did it. (Although on my own, I rarely slept through the night, tossing and turning.)

Now I'm the poor, pathetic woman, because I toss and turn, only briefly napping, until he's home, and then when he gets into bed and the cats settle down on top of us, I fall deep asleep. I wonder why that is? His presence seems to calm all my jitters and antsiness.


Blogger Lauren said...

I am so the old you. I love my nights when I share a bed, but I love sprawling. I wonder what will happen when I live with someone.

4:56 PM  
Blogger angiepants said...

I can't sleep without Duane for some reason. And I slept alone for many, many years. I didn't think I was going to be one of "those" girls either.

11:13 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Charity here.
I have finally figured out (after almost 6 years of marriage, -yes, i'm slow,) that if I just say "PMS" then that just opens the door for understanding. Part of his understanding I think comes from the fact that now when he says, "i'm feeling irritable." or "i'm feeling out of control," (those are our key words for his bi-polar symptoms) then I can be more understanding with him. We both have times when we aren't feeling like ourselves, but doesn't it make it SO much easier when we can acknowledge them and then be understanding? Yes, it makes ALL the difference!

12:29 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger.
Get awesome blog templates like this one from BlogSkins.com