Saturday, February 4, 2012

too many languages?

I spoke with a woman I don't know for a while tonight.  She was very kind.  I also went to me first Fellowship Dinner.  This morning began on a frustrating note, but ended with an interesting question mark.  

When I woke up, John was so tired and uncomfortable, that even though I just asked him to go down to lay on the couch and play ref so the kids didn't kill each other while I showered, he wasn't even sure he had the energy for that.  Of course, my first comment was about him wanting to go to that meet today insinuating the high level of bad-idea that was.  He was right there with a snapping "I knew that would come up."  Which just sucked.  Because I didn't mean for it to be an I-told-you-so moment, but rather a moment where maybe he could see that I DID maybe understand a bit more about how he was feeling that he realized, and that I really AM looking out for him and trying to keep him from over doing it so he can recover.  And when I tried to tell him that, he apologized with just a tone that did NOT match his words at all.

Then so of my work/school/friend angels came by and helped us clean out our closet and our drawers and our bedroom.  I don't know why Wendy keeps doing this for me, but it makes me feel so very loved.  What a wonderful thing.  And today she brought the music teachers, both of whom have touched my heart in odd and interesting ways.  My first interaction with Holly that I remember was when I shared with her how happy the dirty dishes made me not long after John's first surgery.  Not that I was happy about the dirty dishes.  Do not misunderstand.  They annoyed the bad word out of me, coming home after working all day, and AGAIN having to clean the sink out.  But this one time, as quick as I got pissed, I smiled.  Because the dishes being messy meant that the kids were home and that they were home and doing things with Daddy.  Who had been too ragged out from brain surgery and chemo to do anything for what felt like forever.  That is a nice thought I wish I could make stick more often.

Wendy has been the art teacher for my classes for several years.  I always end up taking my students back to class a little late because she is so much fun to talk to, about so much stuff.  

And Maggie is scary smart, beautiful in many ways, AND she loves the show Bones.  My friend Matt got to be in an episode of that show.  His main comment to me when I asked about it had to do with how tall everyone on the cast seemed to be.  Maggie and I don't share the same lunch period any more, which is a shame, because she too is always fantastic to talk to, about many different things.

So those crazy ladies, plus Maggie's banjo-playing hubby and her lovely little Lydia (about 6 months younger than Neil) helped John and I reclaim our closet and bedroom. 

This evening, we went to our Universalist Unitarian Church's Fellowship Dinner.  Neil was the traveling entertainment, keeping everyone on their toes as he left the kids area and wandered in circles around the crowded tables, got up on stage and wiggled a little to the music, and generally made sure that everyone knew what our one year old looked like as I chased him around the room.  

It was a really nice night, but John and I still were "weird".  Then I spoke with that kind lady that I didn't know until tonight.  And she shared several thoughtful, heartfelt, intersting things with me, the last of which was the 5 Languages of Love.  So I went to the site and took the general test and the apology test.  It was very interesting.  I plan on encouraging John to take the assessments, too. 

The thing that worries me a little is that my outcomes for the general love language test was:

6 Words of Affirmation
6 Quality Time
6 Receiving Gifts
3 Acts of Service
9 Physical Touch

The "physical touch" didn't surprise me at all.  The fact that my second highest language was three of them made me wonder pretty significantly.  Is it good to have more languages?  Or just complicated?