Category — The Superstar Husband

We are at the post office, applying for passports for our kids, which requires both of us and all the kids to be there. It’s a happy family outing in a Federal Building in the Capitol, where the security guard, who is a senior citizen, tells us he is heading to Hawaii on Monday.

Just a little background for you.

While we singlehandedly cause the line to stretch about a mile, we lounge around with our elbows on the counter, trying to keep the kids from wrestling, letting YaYa know that fifteen kisses is probably enough for Kid A to handle (she always gets very affectionate when we are out together- early signs of PDAs), joking with the post lady about how much money this is costing us. “My favorite thing!” I say. “I love spending hundreds of dollars on paper!”

Then I notice the stamps for February poster. “Hey Chin,” I ask in a lowered voice. “Is that guy black?” He looks where I’m looking, at the Black Heritage stamp.

“Well, remember, back in those days it was all about ‘passing’. He looks like he’s passing.”

I’m not so sure. “Yes, but… I don’t know.” This man seems to be doing a lot more than passing to me. He looks white down to his large mustache and the part in his hair.
“Well, I don’t have my glasses on,” Chinua tells me.
“Here, use mine.” He takes them.

“Oh no. That dude is not black.” The (black) post lady overhears him and laughs. “I know,” she says. “I’ve had other customers asking me about that.”

“Do you know who he is?” I ask. She shakes her head.

“I have no idea.”

Chinua and I finish up and walk away with our miniature entourage. And got sillier and sillier.
“For Black History Month, we’ve decide to feature white people!”

“Due to the unnecessary controversy surrounding black people, we’ve decided to have white people featured for Black History Month!”

“In the spirit of non-discrimination, we’re going stop honoring Black People for Black History month! Now all races will be represented!”

“It will be National Everybody Month!”

After doing a little, you know, what’s that called… RESEARCH, I realized that Charles W. Chesnutt is indeed PASSING. Go and read his biography, it’s really interesting, and reveals more again about how strange and complex the racial undertones of the day were. And I really mean no disrespect to this man, who seems to have spent his life bringing awareness to black issues and decided not to live as a white man, passing or no passing.

-Why are my pictures bluuuueeee?  Did you change something on the settings?

-Yes.

-See?  This is why I need my own camera.  Ugh.

-You just need to know the camera better.  This would happen whether you had your own camera or not.

(I think but don’t say that my Superstar Husband would probably mess with the settings on my camera too.)
(SH gives instructions on how to change the color temp.)

-Does this mean that these photos are a lost cause?

-No, you can alter the color temp.  Especially if you’re shooting in RAW.

-RAW?  I HATE RAW.

-Don’t say that.  You need to love RAW.  It gives you more options.

-But it never works out for me.  It’s always screwed up.

-That’s because you just need to learn.

-You always tell me that it’s too much to teach me.
-I don’t always tell you that.

-Yes you do.  You said, last time I asked, “You don’t want to know, it’s too much to teach you.”

-That’s not always.

-Yes it is!  Always, that one time.

To say that I am exhausted would be a vast understatement. But exhaustion seems to be normal, right now, just as feeling as though I’ve been scrambled and put on toast seems to be normal. And we did get home last night at 2:00 in the morning, 5:00 in the morning Detroit time.
However, not to brag or anything, but the kids were angels, ANGELS, on our flights home. I mean, they were quiet, they slept, they sat and entertained themselves, they read the Sky Mall magazines and the safety manuals dutifully. The seventeen-year-old behind Chinua was a lot louder than my kids were, that is, until my husband turned around and asked, “Excuse me, are you going to be THAT LOUD FOR THE ENTIRE TRIP? Because I think you could bring it down a few decibels.” And then I died, because it was not at all Canadian of my husband, to do that. But he justified it by saying that everyone on the flight would be happier as a result. And they were. And they broke into song.

I was actually feeling a little bit of concern for YaYa, wondering whether I should be worried about her, as she sat next to me and amused herself for about an hour by eating one side of an apple off and creating a perfectly flat surface. She chiseled away tenderly with her little tiny teeth, humming to herself the whole time. Then she ate the skin away and made little faces, with eyes, and noses, and mouths. And then she named them. It reminded me of when she was at my Grandma’s house and she ate the skins off of the grapes while murmuring softly over them, “There you are, little baby…”

But then, as she held her apple in her hand, as the flight attendant finished announcing our landing in Minnesota, she shrieked, “Mommydaddymommydaddymommydaddy! She said we’re in MINI APPLES!” And I thought, okay, now I’ll die of love.

Yup. The kids were great. Chinua and I, now. Well, I think we did pretty well, and it was all because of pheromones. We were doing that thing, you know, when we start bickering at each other and picking fights and sighing, and then we talk in fierce whispers for awhile about which one of us is being meaner. But the whole time I was thinking, “I don’t want to do this right now, this makes for bad memories, I have had enough traveling bickering to last a lifetime, no more…” So, when my Superstar Husband came up and hugged me, I did what I knew would cure me for the rest of the night- I smelled his face. And then I sighed for a long time. And he smelled the top of my head. And he slumped and leaned his head on mine, and said in the sappiest voice, “I love you.” Pheromones. I’m telling you.

Maybe it sounds silly that I love the smell of my husband’s face, but I DO. Especially around his jaw. Try it, the next time you’re bickering. Now, the people around us may have wondered about us, a little, but I think they usually do anyways, so the fact that we were sniffing at each other probably didn’t faze anyone too much.

Of course we can talk.

Good.

Wha-why are you acting so strange?

Just look into my eyes and try to read my mind.

(Significant Pause)

NO WAY!

Yes way.

WHATTTT??!

I know.

But HOW?

Damned if I know.*

But we-

I know.

Are you SERIOUS?

Totally serious.

When?

This morning.

Whoa.

(Hugging and Kissing and Staring in Disbelief.)

You’re pretty good at reading my mind!

***

(*Excuse my language- but seriously, I’m flabbergasted!)

Chinua and the Squirrel 3, originally uploaded by journeymama.

For Wordless Wednesday.

Trust1, originally uploaded by journeymama.

Going home in order to move.
Excited, happy, afraid.
Missing my forest already.
Longing for Asia.
Feeling disoriented, away from the trees.
Waiting for a true home.
Taking care of my family.
Trying to rest in a restless soul.
Knowing how much work is ahead.
Looking around the world and shrinking back.
Reaching out.
Waiting for mercy that never ceases to come.
(New every morning, new every morning.)

 

leafBaby01.jpg, originally uploaded by chinua000.

I will be shamelessly plugging my incredible, wonderful, Superstar Husband’s photos from now on.

Check out these amazing photos of the kids.

…while I think a little bit more about “good enough”.  I have a little post brewing on this topic, percolating in my mind.  I love that you are all so wise, I receive so much from your comments and wisdom.  Who knew that making a fool of yourself could be so meaningful? 

But in the meantime, check out my Superstar Husband’s fabulous photos from his trip to Turkey.  Because he’s fabulous.  And wonderful.  And a great photographer. 

My friend replaced my hard drive last night!  FOR FREE.  Whoa.  Happy birthday me.

And, this morning, I opened my eyes to find myself covered in yellow flowers. 

Really, that is all I need to say.

1. I may be going to Turkey with my Superstar Husband in a few weeks.

2. I love clothing and clothes-shopping and have eighteen pairs of shoes. I can always tell you whether or not something looks good on you, and I feel greatest when spending money on clothes for myself.

3. I can’t imagine anything more exciting, at the moment, than riding on a bus in Turkey with my Superstar Husband, or sitting at a street vendor eating a Kebab with him.

(Did I make that too obvious?)