The Problem with Daughters and Wives

Honey, Daddy, Father, Dad, Baby, Aaron, even A on occasion and sometimes, when I have seriously pushed the most important person in my life’s buttons, Arugghhhh Newell, I know this last one becasue when Amberly pushes those buttons it’s ARRUGHHH Little Newell.  These are the names I have been known by some of them for eight years, others for 17.   I am one of those guys that’s blessed with a family that loves him and with a wife he doesn’t deserve.  I know a lot of people say that but I don’t just say it I embody it.  My family has followed me all over the eastern and central part of the United states in pursuit of not just a career but a calling.  They have lived with my successes and failures, I’ve had both as all of us do.  They have put up with my fear, my bitterness, my angst, my anger, my wandering, my stupidity, my happy times and my sad.  They are the most important people in my life and I am extremely blessed to have them.

You may think that the last paragraph would mean I couldn’t possibly have an issue or find a spot for criticism of the women in my life, ah if only this were true.  I have been beset upon by quite the emotional phenomena, particularly in the past eight years.  I am proudly a member of the sarcastic club of America, I’m cynical, caustic, and even cutting sometimes with my humor.  I have always been this way, at least as long as I can remember.  I’m the guy that used to pray for tears every once in a while just to remember that I had tear ducts and that I wasn’t all dry inside.  Interesting thig is that the prayer was usually answered and I was able to shed a tear and feel that unmistakable release that comes from tears.  I had in fact gotten used to that being how I cry, sort of a request to God that would prove to me that I was a soft hearted nice guy.  I liked that actually. Spoke to what I always wanted to be a man who could keep himself in check and everyone knew they could count on and that he had it together.

It’s very hard for me to believe that we are where we are right now.  I am looking at the months of December and January with trepidation for obvious reasons.  Most of the people who are reading the blog started reading a little over 10 months ago and will understand why I make that statement, and no I’m not going to revisit those posts or give you the run down, if you’re that interested go on ahead and read them for yourself.  What I am going to do is explain the Title.

Sunday afternoon the Newell’s decided it would be fun to watch a movie and eat together.  Entertainment of choice… WallE.  Yes that’s right a movie about robots and fat people.  I confess to enjoying the premise even if robot love seems like some twisted concept from a bad letter to the editor. (use your imagination)  As the movie came to it’s inevitable WallE and EVE save the world conclusion, complete with EVE realizing how much she “Loved” WallE moment and her having to fix him and then try and bring back his memory I stood up went to the TV and prepared to shut things down.  J was about to make a comment when she came to the realization that the deep breaths and throat clears were attached to something more than allergies.  She did her best to suppress a laugh and said “are you really?”  I took off upstairs with some excuse about needing to do something or other just to get away from the situation.

This is of course not a new ground breaking thing that was happening.  The other day as I was heading home from work listening to Harry Potter on my Ipod, Dobby the house elf died.  If you didn’t read the books and are waiting for the movie, well sorry to ruin that bit of the plot for you,  I did it again, started to get that feeling behind my eyes and had to clear my throat and wipe at them.

Here I am a normally stoic individual, love zombie movies, Halloween and scaring my kids.  I like to play Halo and Left 4 Dead.  Reading King, Lovecraft, and others is very enjoyable to me.  Laugh at things that most would find disconcerting, love a good horror flick and want to go to Burketsville and camp in the woods just because it seems like a cool place to go and a neat thing to do, crying at a Kids movie or the death of a freakin house elf, really thats what it takes now.

That’s the problem with daughters and wives.  They ruin the crusty shell and make the gooey center come out more than you want it too. They make you realize that your not all that hard.  They wake up emotions and feelings that most would rather not have awake, and they do it with a smile, or a look, or a word.  They do it by being in the hospital, or by telling you they dont need you, they can do it by themself, they do it by wearing their headphones while they do their homework, or by getting into the car by themself, or by looking up at you as you hug them and setting their head against your chest and telling you that your their favorite person even with all your faults and problems.  They do it and many times they don’t know they are doing it, because for some reason I just can’t tell them that they are ruining me.

The real problem with my daughters and wife is that they love me.  I’m privileged to get to love them back.

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