scribblechic

It begins somewhere between the monkey bars and the swing set.  The first strings of school yard rhymes caution there exists an imbalance of power.  Girls rule, boys drool.  Little boys pull our pig tails and tease us into tears while we feign disinterest and annoyance through batted eyelashes and half smiles.  Is it any wonder we grow up questioning each other’s intentions?

Courtship is full of feigned interests and exaggerated displays of patience and affection.  Long before we had children, my husband and I were the center of each other’s happiness.  We were fascinated by the otherwise illogical intricacies of our thoughts.  I would infer meaning, assuming my husband intended subtext.  Alternately, my husband would hear my thoughts like newspaper headlines.  The need to communicate respect and understanding, concern and appreciation were greater than the words between us.

Then we had children.  My husband spends his days running a business, juggling decisions and creating goals.  I spend my days as a homemaker, similarly juggling decisions and creating goals.  Lately, our minds distracted with the business of our days, I find myself wondering what he means, questioning why he said that or thinking I don’t think he understands.

Today I am looking for a reference guide, my husband lives on Mars and I speak Jupiter.

Tagged: Communication, Marriage