Loverly Husband

My husband (L.H.) really is a nice man. When darling daughter (D.D.) has a friend over, he plays games with the two of them. And when the mom comes to pick her up, he chats her up for 20 or 30 minutes because he is helping her make contacts in the U.S. for an exchange program (she teaches H.S. English).

Personally, I'm just not that full of the milk of human kindness. In my case, it would be more like buttermilk. L.H. thinks I'm kind of shy, or maybe I'm holding back because of the language thing, but really, I think I'm just not that friendly.

It takes me a while to warm up to people; at my last job, it took me 2 or 3 months of seeing the same people day in and day out before I could let my innate wackiness shine through. I'm just not around anyone that much these days, so I don't see myself finding many "kindred spirits" (as Anne Shirley of Green Gables would say) any time soon. Also, humor doesn't always translate well, and I'm not sure what people here would make of my sarcastic sense of humor.

D.D. is lucky that she has one outgoing parent anyway. L.H. reminds me a bit of my mom in that respect. I found it embarrassing as a kid for her to be chatting up people in line at the grocery store, and now I'm married to a man with the same trait. He can tell me all about the neighbors, even ones not in our building, and about the parents of D.D.'s classmates because he's actually held one or more conversations with them. I usually just smile and nod in passing.

What's funny is that L.H. always thought of himself as introverted as a kid. I think that's because his dad tends to be fairly anti-social and kind of squished his kids into that mold when they were little. Nowadays we joke that L.H. is an extrovert who was raised as an introvert.

Today's Halloween party proves the point. I was ready to chuck all 11 kids out the door after an hour, but he kept them moving from one activity to the next with impressive patience. He was even so kind as to walk home a couple of kids (D.D. went home with one of them to play some more). I told him even before he left that I'd rather clean up after 50 kids than have to deal with any of them a minute longer.

My grandmother and mother keep telling me that I'm such a good mom and that I should have had more kids. The reason I'm such a good mom is *because* I only have one kid. I'll admit it: I'm selfish. I need some time to myself, if not physically then mentally apart from my family, and multiple children doesn't seem conducive to that. MIL told me of a woman of her online acquaintance with 9 children! That first caesarean section must have come with a labotomy!

I'll be the first one to admit that L.H. has oodles and gobs more patience than I; I can give D.D. boundless love and lots of silliness, and I know a trick or two to help her when she is in a bad mood or upset, but L.H. is the one who will sit on the floor and play Barbies with her. He should be in line for sainthood for that alone.

Weather-bitching update: 0.5
Clouds, some sun, no rain. It could have been worse.