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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/111836-vacation
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Rated: ASR · Book · Biographical · #147419
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#111836 added January 2, 2002 at 6:39pm
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vacation
 (This entry was edited by 1boy on 07-03-01 @ 9:07 am EDT)

6/10/01
11:45pm

On my way out today, to a Tupperware party, and only that, he says, “aren’t you going to wear a shirt over that?” and I breathe in deeply, in a desperate attempt not to get mad. We had such a good week together, five great days in a row, and now….this again. What I was wearing was a simple black sleeveless shirt. It came all the way up to my neck, covering everything. It could possibly be a shirt worn under another. I went to look for another shirt, wanting so badly not to fight about it. We’ve just gotten in from out of town, and everything I own is in the laundry, stinking of seaweed from the beach. “Just wear it.” He says. “I’m only trying to look out for you.” Only trying to piss me off, I think. I wonder the whole way there if I am dressed appropriately, and am reassured of that when someone there is dressed almost identical to myself, and her shirt even comes down further. And she’s not a kid. She’s in her forties. I completely feel that there was nothing wrong with what I was wearing today, and for him to comment rudely about it ruined the whole day, well at least the morning. The funny thing is, he was there when I bought the shirt, and approved. I wore it on vacation, and he never said a word. Is he holding back at those times, or only decides to point out that he doesn’t like it after there is no possible way to return it. I don’t even feel that what I wear is flashy or appears to be an attempt to draw attention. Maybe because my chest is large, but that’s going to show no matter what I wear. Once again, it’s a no win situation, and I’m left feeling like s***. I don’t know who I am expected to be, what I am expected to look like. “Please don’t ever dress like your mother,” “Why are you wearing that tight shirt?” He doesn’t even come out and say what he wants to say, which is, “you look like crap, so take that off.” Just subtle comments, enough for me to know what he thinks. I never say anything, when I don’t like what he wears, when he doesn’t match, or little things that I would like him to change. I don’t say a word, because I know he’d become defensive, much like myself. So how do I find a middle ground between not dressing like my mom and not dressing too revealing. And why does he have be so god damn picky anyway.

It comes after such a great week together. We got along so perfectly, despite horrible conditions for a vacation on the beach. It was our first vacation with only the three of us, no family along, and none to visit. Our son behaved so well, I could not have been more proud of him. There were so many new experiences for him, and he adjusts so well. We are incredibly lucky to have a boy like him. Despite a storm that blew in on the second day, and a night stranded in the city because of the flood, we had a great time. And even through all that, we didn’t have one fight. We were both in horrible moods that night at the hotel, stuck with no extra clothes except for what we had on, and not even a toothbrush or deodorant. Driving through a foot of water and scared to death, and still, we did it together, and never clashed. We assumed that the rest of our trip would end up the same, and we were devastated that night. But it didn’t turn out that way; the next day we headed out to the island and made it through two more days with only a few drops of rain, not even enough to force us inside. We spent most of our time on the beach, only his second time and first that he will remember. He eventually became brave enough to actually swim in the ocean and it didn’t even bother him when it got in his mouth. We ate one night at a fancy restaurant, and he was so well behaved and even entertained us with “Shrek” impressions and silly songs and sayings. I don’t want the three year old stage to ever end. My husband did most of the planning, all the driving, all the meals, and the cleaning. I love the way he takes charge and handles all the responsibility in things like this.

I loved him so much this week. I told myself a million times how lucky I am to have what I have, in him, and my son, these two wonderful people who I never expected I would get to spend my entire life with. And if this week is a forecast of the future, I am in for an incredibly satisfying life. It was great to live for a week without worrying about time, or schedules, or family obligations. It was just us, and we made our own schedule. We took naps at four o’clock with no reason to wake up, we ate whatever whenever, and sometimes didn’t make it to bed until one or two, even our 3 yr old. And I wished it would never end. Even with the three of us, he and I still managed plenty of time alone, every day, and I enjoyed every minute of it. And it’s been a while since I could say that. We needed that time together. It reminded me of times that were long forgotten, even though it’s only been a few years. It reassured me that I can have that feeling of romance back. We seem to lose that in our daily routine here. I love the way he loves me, the way he looks at me at certain times, and when that happens, I can forget everything else, all the things that make me mad. I love the way that through all that we’ve been through he has not changed in so many ways, yet he’s matured in ways that I think I never will. He is everything that I am not, and more. And to have that time to remind us how much we love each other helps… a lot. We have so much in store for us, together and I don’t want anything else. Could I have said that three years ago? Maybe not, but who was I then, and is that someone I want to be. So when he comments on my clothes, or annoys me in other ways, I have to keep reminding myself of who he is and all he’s done for me, and that outweighs little things like the clothes issue.

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