SAHM I am (34 page)

As far as what’s going on, it’s quite simple. See, at the reception at White Water on Saturday night, after the park had closed up, we got into a pretty big fight. Oh, Tom says I have to back up
before
the fight. Let’s see…Okay, we left the kids at the hotel with Tom’s cousin, which was nice, since it let us have some time to ourselves. After we ate supper under the pavilion, we went to put on our swimsuits. (No, I didn’t take Jeanine up on her idea of “bridesmaid swimsuits”—I bought a new one myself.) You should have seen Tom’s reaction to my suit! His eyes popped out and his face turned red.

Oh. Now he says I backed up
too
far. Picky, picky…

Fine, we’ll pick up the story after we’d tried out all the water slides and the wave pool. Tom asked me the question I’d been dreading all weekend. Did “he” call?

“Who?” I asked. (Yes, yes, I knew who he was talking about—he wants me to make that clear.) The guy at church. The…HOT one.

“Oh,” I replied. “That one. Actually, yes.”

“And?” (There were about fifty question marks after the word when he said it, but I didn’t want to put all those in an e-mail.)

I told him that I explained to poor Travis that he’d misunderstood me, that I was married, and happily so.

“You lied to him.”

“Did not!”

“You’re really happily married to me?”

Ouch. Well, since he mentioned it, hmm…not so much, actually. So anyway, we got into this big argument about why he left for Alaska, why he stayed away so much in KC and whether or not I wished I was free to go out with Travis.

The answers he gave were as follows: because I wanted him to, and because I didn’t need him.

The answer I gave was the following: of
course
I didn’t wish I was free to date Travis, I hardly even knew the guy, why would I trade in a committed, loving relationship for something so totally wrong, and the only reason it was tempting for even a moment was that I was lonely and missing Tom and tired of feeling like I was raising the kids on my own while he was away all the time, and I didn’t understand why he would choose to be away when he had a family waiting for him who loved him and missed him.

(Tom wants to know why it is possible for a guy to answer two questions in a quarter of the space it takes for a woman to answer one. Well…duh! Right, girls?)

So anyway, BIG FIGHT. We started yelling at each other, and everybody was listening and staring. So Jeanine (arrayed in bridal swimsuit of cream, with seed pearls, sequins and satiny skirt) and Morris (in a black Speedo…eww) stormed over and ever-so-politely suggested we join them for the cake cutting.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get the hint. All the way over, it was “You’re too independent!” “Don’t have a choice when you’re always gone.” “All you want from me is a paycheck every two weeks.” “WHATEVER.” (Tom says that was my weakest comeback of the evening, and I must agree. Maybe I’m losing my touch.)

So we got over to the cake table. Jeanine had donned a cream-colored pareo over the swimsuit, and Morris had tugged on some shorts, thankfully. While they cut their piece
and fed each other, Tom and I carried on an under-our-breath argument:

“You think I’m incompetent.”

“Do not.”

“Do, too—you even told your friends you thought I was in the way.”

“No, it’s just that it had been so long since you were home all the time, I’d forgotten what it was like.”

Morris cleared his throat, looking meaningfully at us. We smiled and continued muttering.

“What it was like? You mean how unbearable it was.”

“How should I know if it was unbearable or not? It hardly ever happened!”

Jeanine said, “Are you two finished?”

“Yeah, Mom.” Tom looked back at me. “All I’m saying is that I prefer to be where I feel appreciated and where I can make a valuable contribution.”

“And all I’m saying is that it’s hard to make a valuable contribution when you’re
not around.
”

He grabbed my arm. “You aren’t listening to me, Dulcie.”

“Oh yes, I am, Tom. I hear you loud and clear. You want to be involved in the family, but you’re running away,
just like your dad.
”

Well, I heard Jeanine give a little strangled yelp, and Tom’s face got beet red. I tried to yank my arm away, but he held on too tight. The next time I pulled, he suddenly let go and I stumbled backward.

Right into the cake table. One table leg collapsed and I fell to the ground. I remember it almost like slow motion…the cake slid off the table. Onto my head! The top layer landed in my lap.

I got so mad, I picked up the cake in my lap and hurled it in Tom’s face.
SPLAT!
The guy never even saw it coming ’cause he was still stunned from watching the table collapse. For one moment, the topper stuck out from his face like a carrot nose
on a snowman. Then it, and a great glob of frosting, slid like an avalanche down his chin and landed on the outdoor turf carpet with an ominous
plop.
As he scooped the goop out of his eyes, it occurred to me at that point that I might not be long for this world. Nobody else moved. Masked with mush, Tom leaned over and grabbed a fistful of cake from behind me…

…and smeared it all over my hair and my face.

“You jerk!” I yelled at him. I got him in a headlock and pulled him down with me. We rolled backward into the debris that used to be my in-laws’ wedding cake.

“You’re the most self-sufficient, stubborn girl in the whole world!” he shouted as he stuffed cake down my swimsuit.

Jeanine finally found her voice. She shrieked at us to stop it
immediately.
But we were too far gone. All the months of frustration and irritation got taken out on that poor, unfortunate cake!

“And you want everything to be both ways! Valued at home, and yet absent all the time!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Frosting was everywhere now, and we were coated. “Don’t you know you can’t have your cake and eat it, too?” I yelled.

Suddenly, everyone started giggling. And then there was full-blown laughter. I couldn’t figure out why, until Tom started chuckling, too. Then I realized what I’d said. I groaned and laid my head back in all the mush. Tom leaned over me, his face white with frosting.

“Yes, I can,” he said, right before he kissed me.

The kiss was sweet and sticky and gooey, and we forgot about everyone else watching us and just kissed and kissed—until I heard my mother-in-law, resignation in her voice, say, “I give up. Let them eat cake!”

Fortunately, there were enough sheet cakes on a different table to feed the guests. I thought for sure Jeanine and Morris would be livid. But they said when you get to be their age, you realize that good entertainment is worth a few wedding cakes
now and then. They also came over to us, after we’d showered off all the confection, and presented us with a packet.

“We were talking,” Morris said.

Tom asked, “What’s this?”

“Our honeymoon itinerary,” Jeanine told us. “We want you to go instead.”

Tom shoved it back at them. “No way. We aren’t taking your honeymoon!”

I shook my head, too.

“You obviously have some issues you need to work out. We figured ten days in Cancún without the kids should do the trick.” Morris refused to take back the packet.

“Yeah, well, where are they going to go?” I asked.

Jeanine smiled patiently. “With us, of course.”

Tom sputters, “You just got married!”

“What better time to let the girls get to know their new grandpa?” Jeanine said.

Morris glanced from me to Tom and back at me. “Look, five years from now, if our marriage is in the mess yours is in right now, you can repay us the favor. Okay?”

They wouldn’t let us talk them out of it. So we took the girls to stay with Grandma and Grandpa and then went home long enough on Sunday to grab our passports and suitable clothing. We got to Cancún on Monday afternoon and are staying in this fabulous beachfront suite, and having the time of our lives. We’ll be home a week from today.

You know, at first, I thought Jeanine was crazy for marrying Morris. But seeing how he handled the wedding, and how sweet he was to me and Becky—even after our third-degree interrogation of him (which we’re all laughing about now—no hard feelings whatsoever, thankfully)—and his kindness to me and Tom made me just love him. And he’s great with Tom. He might turn out to be the good dad my husband always wanted.

And that, my friends, is “what’s going on.” Gotta go…

Hey! None of us have gotten a trip to Cancún for fighting with our husbands! Much less, for ruining our MIL’s wedding cake! Man, I’m going to go kick some cabinets!

But, Dulcie, before I go, you never said—did you work everything out with Tom? Are you two going to be okay?

Z

Oh, Ronnie, y’all are so…
cute.
Okay, fine then. There ya go. (Did I say all that right?)

Rosalyn

Dearest Loop Sisters (and one biological sister),

I had no idea when I decided to leave this group that it would rend such a hole in your hearts. So many of you have written, practically panic-stricken, at the thought of my departure. What a blessed encouragement to hear how my humble leadership and homey advice have impacted your lives. I’m especially indebted to my sister, Veronica Marcello, who recently joined SAHM I Am for the purpose of following in my footsteps. Her love and friendship is what finally convinced me of the importance of returning to you all.

I promised some people I would be more honest and transparent with you. That doesn’t come easy for me, but I will try. So, for starters…I probably missed you more than you missed me. I like to think that you all need me, but the truth is, I need you just as much. Maybe more.

But that’s enough vulnerability for one e-mail. A woman can only handle so much change at once, you know.

Love,

Rosalyn

Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day…She was positively
almost
humble. Whaddya know about that? :)

Oh yeah, sorta got distracted at that point, didn’t I. Sorry to make you wait two days for the answer to that. Although, I thought it’d be fairly obvious. :)

Yes!
We worked it out. It turns out, you think I have insecurity and self-image issues? Apparently nothing compared to those of my dear, dear hubby. I found out, while we lay out on the beach and talked and sipped virgin daiquiris, and watched the tide come in, that Tom’s biggest fear has always been that he’ll be a horrible dad, just like his father. He never had anyone teach him how to be a good dad. So he always felt intimidated by me, because he thinks I’ve got it all together. (Boy, do I have him fooled or what?) But he
is
good at computers. So he put all his effort into being a good programmer and making lots of money so he could feel like he was doing something right.

Anyway, once I understood where he was coming from, it was no problem to fix all our misunderstandings. He now knows I do want him to be home with us, and that I don’t think he’s in the way, that I was just blowing off steam to you girls when I wrote that e-mail. In fact, I told him that was my whole problem—I
need
him. I don’t think I’d make a very good single mother at all. Having him gone all the time made me feel so lonely. He also knows that sometimes I say stupid things to people that I don’t mean, thus the “romance novel” comment. And I now know he
wants
to be with me and the
girls, too, and that he just needs a bit more encouragement about his abilities as a good dad and husband.

So, the long and short of it is, as soon as possible he is going to quit his job! Hurrah! No more KC and definitely
no more Alaska!
He talked to Morris, who knows of an opening for a programmer at a company his friend works at in Springfield. He still has to do all the interviewing, and if he gets the job, we will be moving. And if not, he might have to do the consulting job—in Omaha—a bit longer. But we’ll figure that out when we come home from our dream vacation.

The rest of how our trip is going? Well, come on! We’re at a romantic, exotic beachfront resort in Cancún, Mexico, with no kids! How do you
think
we’re doing? You know, every couple should postpone their honeymoon until after they have kids. They’d appreciate it ever so much more.