The Professor....

I've been in a slump for a week. I keep thinking, I want to blog and then I realize I have nothing to say. I've been editing. 

We've had a round of ear infections for G-man and pink eye for J-man. 
Attitude from the girls.
And a lack of interest in fighting from the mommy.

That's really culminated in a deep appreciation for the Professor. 

It iced and snowed here on Thursday. He went to work in the ice and came home early. While the roads were clear - he sent me to the store to find a coat for J-man. (Another blog for another time.) 

He decided to stay home on Friday because his work is not very good to him - and there was ice on the ground - and I was taking G-man to the doctor for his ear recheck.

Score for him. I didn't have to take the other 3 to the doctor. They stayed home and endured The Professor's insistance for school work. 

He can be my hero at times.

Which, you'll want to know, is a very good thing. Early in our marriage, I didn' think we'd last. He never doubted it. I did. 

I'm editing my novel, getting it ready for submission. It's tough going back over something you thought you'd gotten finished. The writer is as much a perfectionist as the painter. It can be rather tedious to go over sentences you've gone over before and over and over - there's only so much tweaking a sentence can take. 

While I'm editing, I struggle with the whole thing. I'm not looking at the story, itself. I'm looking at the words. Each letter. Each period. Like looking at your skin through a microscope. All those cells make up a pretty nifty 'thing'. But under a microscope, it doesn't look like an entire thing - it looks like tiny bits. 

So I'm looking at these tiny bits of my novel and thinking - ... it sucks. 

But I continue on because, The Professor has told me, "You've got a pretty good story there." It's only pretty good, because it's not his thing. But he can't tell me what his thing is, so I can't fix it. 

But I'll cling to what he's given me. and I edit. 

He does dishes so I can focus on teaching.
He goes grocery shopping because it's peaceful to him - and NOT to me. (He can also stay under budget) 
He will cycle laundry through the machines.
He spoils me.

On Facebook, they've got this new feature where you can put your 'work experience' on your profile. I put in "writer" because that's what I'm working on. 

Some women, I've noticed, put their husbands down as their employers. 
I understand the authority structure, as God has outlined it and as I understand it - but I won't put down my husband as my employer. 

I work WITH him.
not FOR him.

Big difference. 
If I worked FOR him - I'd probably resent him. 
Being  mommy is often not a happy thing. Fights, attitudes, poop, animals, children, vomit, dishes, laundry, fights, food, fights, snow boots that can't be found, fights .... 

I'm glad that I work WITH him in being a parent.

I'm so glad that he supports me in writing and listens to the mommy when I struggle. 

I'm glad I work with him.