{"id":59,"date":"2015-11-09T19:02:32","date_gmt":"2015-11-09T19:02:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/?p=59"},"modified":"2015-11-09T19:02:32","modified_gmt":"2015-11-09T19:02:32","slug":"and-then-jump","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/?p=59","title":{"rendered":"And then, Jump"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"10600646_10203842282990591_4766422685000888645_n\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Drizzly and windy, as is typical in November here.
\nI guess if the wind is actually driving drops through cracks and doorways, the rain doesn’t qualify as drizzle anymore.<\/p>\n

I want to ask you questions and tell you things.
\nI want to ask if you were high last night, if the weirdness I experienced was
\na result of being high,
\nnervous,
\nwith your friends,
\nor what.
\nBecuase it was weird.
\nAnd it wasn’t fun.
\nIt wasn’t a deal breaker. But it doesn’t bode well.<\/p>\n

I want to ask if you were in your
\nright mind
\nwhen you asked me to come to you at 11pm, if you thought it was an
\nactual possibility
\non a Sunday night when I have two kids at home, one of whom is 8. I want to believe that you’re just ignorant.
\nBut I know better.<\/p>\n

But I don’t want ultimatums.
\nOr, even the appearance of them.
\nOr suspicion.
\nThey’re just honest questions.<\/p>\n

I want you, to want me, enough to
\nchoose kindness
\nover\u00a0bro-behavior,
\neven if it means feeling a little
\nembarassed
\nor getting
\nchided
\nby them,<\/p>\n

Treat me like a grown-up woman with a
\nlife
\nfull of responsibility rather than a single girl who only has to worry about getting to work on time the next day.
\nI don’t get to call in sick.
\nI do not want to be put in a position to chastise.
\nInform, sure, but
\nno chastisement.<\/p>\n

So, because you’re not a parent, I know you’re ignorant of some things.
\nSo, here is me, giving you, some
\ninformation
\nso you can make the
\nchoices
\nfor your life and so you can see how your choices aren’t made
\nin isolation,
\neven at this early stage.<\/p>\n

You see, I asked you early enough in the day that we could have made plans. And
\nyou chose
\nnot to tell me “no”, or even “maybe”. Instead, you
\nignored me,
\nletting me sit tight during the time
\nI needed to ensure my kids were fed and loved.
\nYou chose
\nto leave me in some kind of limbo. I don’t know for what purpose. Maybe no purpose. But the motivation doesn’t matter since
\nI don’t have room for limbo
\nin my day to day happenings.
\nIt steals
\nenergy from my mind and heart.
\nIt hurts me. And, in turn, it hurts my kids. Any energy that isn’t put toward
\nmaintaining or building
\nour life and health and emotions, is
\nstolen and diverted
\nfrom those things. It’s kind of like having a hole in your pocket and having your change slowly slip away and getting to the store and finding out
\nyou don’t have enough
\nfor the milk.<\/p>\n

I also wanted to tell you that I’m ready to “throw in” with someone in life. But more than that, I’m ready for someone to “throw in” with me. But there is a catch of sorts. You see, I cannot throw in with you on your life. I cannot hitch myself to your wagon, your dreams, unless they happen to share a significant amount of what I’ve already got going on. My life is not my own. I’ve already thrown in with these kids of mine.<\/p>\n

But there is room for you.
\nSo
\nmuch
\nroom. And I will throw in with loving you, showing you how to
\nfill that place
\nheld for you.
\nYou, in our lives, will be
\nloved and adored,
\ndriven mad, left bewildered, allowed to
\nswell with pride,
\nexpected to shoulder a load, to help guide those in shouldering their own loads, be comforted and be comforting.
\nSchedules, routines, lessons, homework, tutors, teachers, performances…<\/p>\n

Truly, the next 5-10 years are about raising children and all that goes with it.<\/p>\n

But, not only about children. It will be
\nmaking love
\noften and deeply.
\nIt will be playing with each other, verbal banter, gentle tickles and wrestling. \u00a0It will be planning and
\nmaking plans happen.
\nIt will be grocery shopping and chopping veg together. It will be
\nreading snippets
\nfrom things we find amusing, or challenging, or simply that touch us in some way. It will be
\nyour favorite gum
\npurchased when I fill up the gas tank, because I can. It will be backrubs and
\nforehead kisses. It will be
\nthe “co” of commiserate.
\nIt will be those big and little things that make life bearable in all its awful wonder.<\/p>\n

You see, I know how to
\nlove deliberately.
\nI think you might know how, too. But I’ve had a lot more years of being
\nselfless
\nthan you. And a lot more years experiencing the selfishness of others. I’ve got some room for you to grow, but I don’t have years for you to
\nfigure things out.
\nYou’ll have to decide if this
\ncrazy and gorgeous life
\nof mine is something in which you’re willing to
\nswim and thrive,
\nand then,
\nyou have to jump.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Drizzly and windy, as is typical in November here. I guess if the wind is actually driving drops through cracks and doorways, the rain doesn’t qualify as drizzle anymore. I want to ask you questions and tell you things. I want to ask if you were high last night, if the weirdness I experienced was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-59","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/59","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=59"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/59\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":65,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/59\/revisions\/65"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=59"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=59"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=59"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}