One Bridge You Mustn't Burn

It may not seem like it, but when you get married, you start building something.  You and your spouse are co-creators of an entity.  You can call it a family, a business, a home, or a combination of these and other things.  It's a positive thing, to be sure.  But it can become large and burdensome over time, if it's not constantly infused with warmth.

Perhaps the married couple buy a home.  Almost immediately, each member begins fulfilling responsibilities around the home.  From sweeping the front porch to paying the bills, there are dozens of responsibilities that must be constantly take care of.  Add children to this, and you add the instant potential for being overwhelmed on a regular basis.

Again, this is a positive position to be in, but it's no small matter.  You've got to communicate to keep this baby intact (pun intended).  Even when you don't have the time and means to be thorough, you must be crystal clear.  This is Houston transmitting to Mars.  You often can't even shake hands, but you have to share control of a ship that must be steered with pinpoint accuracy.  The lines of communication must always be open - day and night.

Those lines must also always be drawn tight.  For they support the entire operation.  Like a sturdy bridge over an unnavigable river - constantly exposed to the elements - the builders of the family must provide safe passage for their own without ever letting go of their partner.

And to you, single parents, I remain in awe.  You have secured the help to shoulder the whole load, only when you must.  You return, then, always to bear the whole weight of the operation again and again.  I'm becoming familiar with the true strength of love, but this still baffles and uplifts me.

Remember, there's no subject too big or too small.  And no issue is ever off the table.

Screw Your Agenda

Look, I'm a baby.  I have a very simple agenda.  It involves being fed by you, held by you, entertained by you, and basically just constantly focused on by you. All that other stuff, such as changing my diapers, bathing me, relentlessly inspecting every last nook and cranny of my adorable little body,  I just let you do that to pass the time.  And as far as dressing me goes, that is nothing more than a gift - reluctantly given - from me to you.  Frankly, I don't understand the big deal with clothes.  What's the point?  You put them on, I spit up on them, you wash them, then you magically produce another clean onesie.  I know where my food comes from, but I don't have a name for it.  I just think of it as the milk bar below your face.  If you don't have a milk bar, then you're lucky if I do so much as fall asleep on you.  Let's get something else straight.  I don't know what you're saying.  I hear sounds coming out of you, but they just go up and down and let me know if you're happy or frustrated with me.  Mainly your words get my attention and make me think you're going to feed me.  And when it turns out that you're not going to feed me, I'm allowed to yell at you, or - in my case - cry at you.  I'm even allowed to carry on in the loudest, most piercing tone, when I have absolutely no idea what it is that I want or need.  I just know i'm not currently satisfied.  Please don't explain that I'm just tired, I'm very busy being mad at something I can't identify.  And ultimately -  while I do prefer to be with you - I don't really care about you.  I can't.  I have no capacity for sympathy.  But I do love you.  And, more importantly, I allow you to love me. :-)

One more thing:  I have no understanding of sleep.  While I do fall asleep a lot, I have no idea that I need it.  And I'm not aware of you sleeping at all.  This means I have zero concern or even curiosity when it comes to your sleeping requirements.  You are always there for me - so I can't conceive of you even resting (or what rest is, for that matter).  If it's true that you do require sleep, I strongly recommend you sleep every time I do.  Otherwise you'll be passing out at inopportune times throughout the day, only to be woken up by my piercing cry.  I'd say that's a promise, but I don't know what that means.

Now remind me again - what is EVERY SINGLE THING?