One night, as I sat rocking my then 8-month-old daughter to sleep, I made her a promise…
I promised her that I would make it extremely difficult for any man to win her affections.
No, not by giving any potential suitor the third degree and employing time-tested intimidation tactics.
But I told her that I was going to set the standard so high for how she should be treated…
that any man hoping for her attention would have to offer her the absolute best of himself.
Today she turns 4 years old…
and since that time when she was less than a year, I’ve taken advantage of every single opportunity to keep that promise.
Happy 4th Birthday Arielle!
Someone sent me the following email today: “This year, December has 5 Saturdays, 5 Sundays and 5 Mondays. This only happens once every 824 years. The Chinese call it the Money Bag. Send this to all your friends. According to the legend, you will receive money in 4 days.”
Strangely enough, a quick glance at a calendar shows that the same “rare” occurence took place in December 2007. Oh and in March 2008, August 2009, May 2010 and both January and October 2011.
Either somebody’s math is off, or a Chinese year is only 3.5 hours long. 😛
In order to rid myself of the growing frustration associated with what I have come to describe as “Telephonic Aversion Disorder” or TAD for short, I am confessing this to all of you: I don’t like talking on the phone. Now that may not seem like a big deal, but as it turns out, there are people who find this bizarre, disturbing or even selfish.
All I can say is that I find the phone to be a necessary distraction at best. I only make or receive phone calls when absolutely necessary. I even avoid it when it IS necessary. *sigh* I know. It’s bad. I admit. But in my defense, I think it’s a result of the PTSD caused by horrible voice mails and phone interactions with HOWie over the years. There were times when I’d hear the phone ring and immediately my heart would start racing, my face would flush and my breathing would kick up a notch. I’ve since learned to manage that anxiety. But I think there are some lingering effects still present.
It’s not that I despise talking on the phone per se. As a matter of fact, I used to be quite the charmer on the phone. In high school, I would regularly spin tales of neighborhood circumstances to my friends and relatives, or regale attractive female classmates with my growing wit and vocabulary. Before we got married, I would often talk to my (now) wife on the phone for hours and hours. There would even be days when we’d fall asleep on the phone. It was a wonderful time.
But now… the less time I spend on the phone, the better. Save for the occasional rant over a bill dispute or internet outage, I still reluctantly take calls. Most times I’ll let it go to voicemail and just check the message to see if it’s urgent. With the exception of my wife. I take EVERY. SINGLE. CALL. she makes. There is never a time when I won’t accept her call. She is me. So it would be like ignoring a call from myself.
Anyway, if you ever call me and I don’t answer, don’t take it personally. I have a real aversion to the phone that has nothing to do with you. Unless it does. lol I’m kidding.