Absence makes my heart hurt and dishes pile up...

Alright folks, major CHEESE alert here.  This is going to be a quick and painful post about how much I love my husband.  If you're saying "But Andrea, blogs are best served with cynicism and conflict!", I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it just isn't going to happen that way.  Not here, not today.

Adam goes away sometimes.  Be it for a ship contract, or a family event that I am not able to attend, and when this happens, my body goes into a high state of sleep-alert.  This means my body is aware Adam is not around, so I get very tired and try to sleep through as much of him being gone as possible.  Last night for instance, I got home from work at 5:30, made some delicious perogies courtesy of Costco (might I suggest a few drops of Sriracha sauce to your sour cream?  It makes a tasty treat to dip them in) and then promptly passed out on the couch watching Storage Wars at approximately 6:57pm.  I woke up at 10:09 to a text from my friend Mark who was supposed to visit, and then apparently texted him back with Can't keep eyes open...see you tomorrow, when my eyes are open, or something of that nature, which I don't remember doing, and  I then explained to Wynton that I had to go to bed, and did, for 12 hours.

Don't get me wrong, I'm an independent confident woman, but Adam being gone is not good for me.  I end up talking way more to my cat than is socially acceptable, and magically the dishes pile up.  I have no clue how they normally get cleaned and put away, so I've resorted to using paper towels, and let me tell you that makes eating soupy very tricky.

So, all I'm wanting to say here is that Adam here = Andrea awake and happy.  Adam gone = Andrea eyesies closey and dirty dishes.

Come home Adam.  Wynton misses you.

Role Reversal

I think everyone anticipates that time in your life when some of the roles between parent and child shift and take on new life.  You realize what paying a bill is like, so you become a provider, you start to teach your parents about new technology and fads, a parent becomes ill and you become care-taker, and sometimes you take on the role of protector when events happen to a parent.

Recently, and without going into crazy detail, someone insulted my Mom and attacked her character as a friend, as a Christian, as a Mom and wife.  This person was considered a "friend", and it made me think...what in all honesty is the definition of a friend?  Who better to answer that than freedictionary.com?

friend  (frnd)n.

1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.

2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.

3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement

5. Friend A member of the Society of Friends; a Quaker.

I can safely say that my Mom's so-called "friend" may only fit one of these criteria, and that is that she may possibly be a Quaker.  

I only write this to say that, and since she used the tool of Facebook and the internet to attack her, I am here doing the same in my Mom's defense (and without her knowledge), that no one, NO ONE messes with my Mom, and thinks they can get away with it.

My Mother is the strongest woman I know.  My Mom is the most caring, devoted, loving and selfless woman that I am lucky to be able to look up to as an example and hope to follow in her footsteps.  She puts her family first, and her friends a very close second, if not on the same level.  Always putting herself, and especially her health last, she will drop everything to help.  She will loan money, lend support, or offer advice, (sometimes unsolicited God love her) only with the hope that she is helping.  

And now that I am older, I can confidently say that if you attack my Mom, you also attack me, and if my Mom isn't bad enough...well guess what, than you've got the former Miss Dlouhy on your case now too.  My Dad always jokes that now that I'm a Ferrett I've lost the Dlouhy charm, and that may be.  But the Dlouhy fight is still in me, and I will never back down when it comes to any member of my family or a friend.  (Laurie, it's steel boots time!)

So, please read that definition and look at those people in your life that are lucky enough to have you give them that label.  

Is it real?  

Is it petty?  

Is it worth fighting for?  

Are they a Quaker?  

So, as you put it, "former friend" of my Mom, thank you for inspiring me to really look at who is in my life and appreciate the fact that I have honest and true people who support and love me for who I am.  All of my crazy, all of my belting, all of my Arbonne-ing.

But most of all, thank you for reminding me how wonderful my Mom is, and how lucky I am to be able to call her my friend.  You on the other hand, don't deserve that honour.

Now then, is it just me or does anyone else feel like some Quaker Harvest Crunch?