30 Letters 30 Days: day five

day five: my dreams

Dreams

Dear dreams,

What a curious things our dreams are. Oscar Wilde said:
“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
I think that most of my life I have been a dreamer. Dreaming of something better, something different, something far from anywhere I was or am. Since I can remember I was always someone else; the princess in need of saving or the best mom in the world with the perfect life. It was the mom dream that stuck. I wake up everyday with half of that dream, I think I wanted it so badly that didn’t wait for the dream the mature. I sought it in my own time, I got the mom title without the wife title and everyday I wake up from dreaming, praying for the rest of my dream to come to pass.
I dream of being a wife, maintaing my own home; one filled with music all day long playing in the background, the smell of cinnamon spice and dinner in the oven. With friends from out of town that come to stay in my home in a guest room that has fresh flowers and a featherbed with homemade cookies on the nightstand. Children that come home to a mother not a nanny, who sits down and listens to their whole day over milk and cookies. A family that sits at the dinner table with no TV on and talks about thier day and shares the successes and failure they had, who laugh and giggle. A husband that wants to come home to his wife and family, a man who chooses to spend time on the weekends exploring, taking the boys fishing and having a tea party with his daughter. A man who takes out his wife on dates just so he can hear her talk about her and see her as a woman and not a wife. A man who at the end of the day gets into bed and wraps his arms around me and says “I love you” then makes loves to me like he truly needs me in his life, just like I need him in mine. I want holidays filled with sharing with others, giving back, and more people than the walls can hold. When I’m 101 and looking back on my life, I want my family to know that I fulfilled my dreams by being there for them and for loving them everyday of my life like it was the last day I would get too!
I know it might sound stupid and cliche, but I want nothing more than this. Wife, mother, friend. I ache for it. Daily.
Heres to dreams coming true!
-Me
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I Laughed

French Letter

TR: Dear Jacques,
You ask me about Duluth, now that you will be transferred here to train Northwest pilots in flying the French Airbus, and first of all I must say that I miss Toulouse and all of the good times we had. I like my life in Minnesota, but I must tell you that if you are French, Americans associate you with wine, cheese, and perfume. They forget that Airbus beat out Boeing in airplane sales last year. They boycott French products not realizing that Motel 6 is French-owned and so is Motown Records. But you ask about Duluth. It is to the rest of the U.S. what Norway is to France. Long winters, cold, faraway. They use the word “whatever” here. And “go figure”. People don’t like to discuss politics with people who disagree with them. If you have a passionate opinion, they just say, “whatever” and walk away. From the top of the hill in Duluth, there are magnificent views of the Lake, and they built a high school on top with no windows facing that way. Go figure. People here do not have a sense of fashion so you need not worry about what you wear when you go out. Whatever. There is no smoking here. In fact, they show sex in movies but if the couple were to light cigarettes afterward, people would be shocked. Smoking is allowed here only in bars that do not serve food prepared from a stove —- if they serve microwaved pizza, then you’re okay. And unlike in France, you can’t bring your dog with you to a restaurant. Stores are open on Sundays but you can’t buy alcohol or automobiles.

When you arrive, you will have to choose a health insurance plan, and let me tell you, it’s not simple. It’s easier to set up a corporation than to get health care. Here there are two networks, SMDC and Care North, each with its own hospital located pretty much across the street from each other. You’ll be given a lot of literature about premiums, deductibles, co-pays, restrictions, and exclusions, not like in France where you just go to the doctor. And church is different: you don’t just go to the service, you have to stay around for lunch. Actually, I like red Jell-O though as a Frenchman I cannot admit this openly. It’s easy to find your way around Duluth. The streets are numbered and run parallel to Lake Superior and the avenues run uphill.

Let me also point out that there are 31 pages of lawyers in the Duluth yellow pages. Go figure.

No monokinis on the beach, but a lot of mosquitoes. But it’s a beautiful place, and I love living here, and look forward to seeing you.

Au revoir et bon voyage!

Your friend Pierre

Listen to the FUNNINESS!

A Dirty Home

This week I have had the opportunity to keep the house spotless. Bathrooms, kitchen, even new sheets and the vacuum has been run (I love vacuum tracks). But there has been an inner lurking of another kind. I made a decision to allow the boys daddy to come over, we had a very nice time; the boys enjoyed time with him after our dinner together at Braums and we enjoyed the company of him in our house for the first time. I had been reluctant to allow him over for fear that the situation would go to far or a can of worms would be opened. Anyway, I had felt that the house had a pure and innocent feel to it. A unused and clean feeling. Like a virgin house. That feeling has passed and now I am left feeling that even though everyone seemed to have a great time and had a better experience then when he would come to my mothers to see the boys, I am still feeling that uneasy feeling. Did I make a mistake or am I just being weird? I am unsure. Maybe the true feeling is that I still do not trust myself around him. That I could slip into old habits of playing house without the true home being bought. I want the boys to be able to see their father and he has been reluctant to come to my mothers. I feel stuck and icky at the same time. I hate this situation. To all those young girls that may stumble upon this, know that playing house is fun for a while until the bank re posses their playhouse and reminds you that you where never tenants in the first place, remember that playing house  will never be a home. Marriage will come, wait for it!

Prayers are needed, although I am not sure what for; prayers are needed!

COMMENTS ARE TOO!