Recently, I passed my five-month mark of becoming a full-time blogger. Or any time blogger. Is there such thing as a part-time blogger? I don’t know . . . Anyway, my life has changed in a number of ways as a result of this new occupation. (I don’t get paid but since it most certainly occupies my time, I think it qualifies as an “occupation”.)
One of these major changes is the conversation between The Spouse and myself. No more litanies of grocery store encounters (I’m in too much of a hurry anymore to chat at the grocery store—now it’s, Excuse me! or I’m in a hurry! or Get OUTTA the WAY!), or dialogue having to do with the children and their needs. Lately he pretty much has to pick up on these things on his own. This hasn’t been much of a problem as over-long, jagged hair, bloody gums and failing grades have a way of announcing themselves.
No, no, these days, when The Spouse and I have a moment to chat (usually whilst I am busy getting the face ready for nightly retirement and he is occupied drooling on his pillow) it goes something like this.
“Hey, remember that mysterious visitor from Small-but-uppity-city, the one I couldn’t figure out how she found me? (They are always she).
Pause. “Umm, yesssss,”
“Now, remember I told you about that new follower who yada yada yada?”
“Er, I guess so . . . .”
“Turns out she’s one and the same!”
By this time The Spouse is catching on that the conversation is taking on momentum and he will have to pay more attention if he is to feign any interest at all whatsoever. He sits up, plumps his pillow and settles in for the long haul.
“Umm, neat,” he manages to say with a semblance of sincerity. “Is that So-and-so from Such and such blog?”
“No! You are thinking of Whatshername from that blog that is all about this-and-that.”
“Oh, yeah! That blog! I thought Thisandthat’s blogger lived in Such-a-state.”
“She does. But you’re thinking about Whosit. She lives there, too.”
“I thought Whosit lived in MormonCapital of theWorld.”
“No, now you’re thinking of Gobbledegook. Or Jabberwocky. Or maybe Snicker-Snack. Hmmm, do you mean the one that is doing that project . . . Spouse?”
But by that time The Spouse is usually sprawled back on his pillow, softly snoring.
This is the point where I congratulate myself because The Spouse sometimes has trouble sleeping (we don’t often talk about the five years of insomnia) and, hey, he wasn’t really listening, but he’s asleep so it’s a good thing. Right? Right? Sigh . . .
(Is it any wonder I look for validation from strangers?)
One of these major changes is the conversation between The Spouse and myself. No more litanies of grocery store encounters (I’m in too much of a hurry anymore to chat at the grocery store—now it’s, Excuse me! or I’m in a hurry! or Get OUTTA the WAY!), or dialogue having to do with the children and their needs. Lately he pretty much has to pick up on these things on his own. This hasn’t been much of a problem as over-long, jagged hair, bloody gums and failing grades have a way of announcing themselves.
No, no, these days, when The Spouse and I have a moment to chat (usually whilst I am busy getting the face ready for nightly retirement and he is occupied drooling on his pillow) it goes something like this.
“Hey, remember that mysterious visitor from Small-but-uppity-city, the one I couldn’t figure out how she found me? (They are always she).
Pause. “Umm, yesssss,”
“Now, remember I told you about that new follower who yada yada yada?”
“Er, I guess so . . . .”
“Turns out she’s one and the same!”
By this time The Spouse is catching on that the conversation is taking on momentum and he will have to pay more attention if he is to feign any interest at all whatsoever. He sits up, plumps his pillow and settles in for the long haul.
“Umm, neat,” he manages to say with a semblance of sincerity. “Is that So-and-so from Such and such blog?”
“No! You are thinking of Whatshername from that blog that is all about this-and-that.”
“Oh, yeah! That blog! I thought Thisandthat’s blogger lived in Such-a-state.”
“She does. But you’re thinking about Whosit. She lives there, too.”
“I thought Whosit lived in MormonCapital of theWorld.”
“No, now you’re thinking of Gobbledegook. Or Jabberwocky. Or maybe Snicker-Snack. Hmmm, do you mean the one that is doing that project . . . Spouse?”
But by that time The Spouse is usually sprawled back on his pillow, softly snoring.
This is the point where I congratulate myself because The Spouse sometimes has trouble sleeping (we don’t often talk about the five years of insomnia) and, hey, he wasn’t really listening, but he’s asleep so it’s a good thing. Right? Right? Sigh . . .
(Is it any wonder I look for validation from strangers?)
Contributors
- Heidi
- Wife, mother, novelist, gardener, bloggist, lover of good books, roses and vintage charm; passionate about her family, words, roses, vintage home decor, found treasures and the color pink.
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