The screwdriver

Not that kind of screwdriver…getcha mind outa the gutta and read on.

My whole life I have been very independant. Fiercly so at that. I did everything myself, and even though my brother was 5 years older than myself, I went everywhere with him. It drove my mother up the wall. All she had to do was turn her back for 1 minute, and I was out the door and half way to the creek.

I have been from one end of the country to the next on my own, and lived by myself for years prior to meeting and moving in with Bill. I took out my own trash, payed my bills (always late), took care of my own automobile, and at the age of 19, have even changed a flat on the highway, in the middle of rush hour traffic in Phoenix, Az.

I have ridden Slick Rock in Moab, Utah right beside Bill. I have crossed 12K foot mountain passes on my bike. I have raced in triathlons, and have found myself on the foredeck of a boat, waves crashing over me, sky as black as night as I set the spinnaker, my legs straddling the bow of the boat with nothing else holding me to the deck but the fear of falling overboard into a ragging bay.

After Cory was born, I was a take charge mom. I did the baths, checked their school folders every afternooon, was room mom, etc etc. With my first 3 pregnancies, I worked up until delivery, holding someone elses legs and yelling “push” while I was 38 weeks myself.

All of this changed after I began to miscarry. After the second one, I folded into myself and became very dependant. I was afraid to lift anything. I was timid. I whined more. I couldn’t surf, because we were trying to get pregnant, and it might hurt the baby. Running stopped. I wouldn’t even go for a walk after I ovulated for fear of somehow screwing up implantation. I swear that I became what I dreaded most in this world……….a Barbie.

It wasn’t until Mia was 19 months or so that I started to get my nerve back. I started riding bikes again, surfing and running too! But that fragile element remained in me. That “haylp, save me” Barbie attitude had woven its way throughout every fiber of my being. Bill took out the trash. Bill lifted the heavy laundry. If a jar lid was too tight, Bill opened it. Bill had just stepped in and taken over where I had simply dropped the ball and it had happened so gradually, I didn’t even know what had happened.

Until this new job came and with it, Bill’s absence for 72 hours at a time. It has been so good for me. I feel like I am gaining back my old self reliance and it really feels great.

When we first decided to go for it and take the job, there were people who were concerned. They had questions like “What will Jody do if one of the kids gets sick?” “How will she handle 4 kids by herself??” To be honest, the questions did more to get me back in gear than anything. I mean, what the hell? I have had these kids for a while now, why would I not be able to handle them without Bill? And, hello! I am a nurse. Yes, I probably panic a bit more when they get really ill, but I know damn well what to do in an emergency. Shesh.

Then Bill left for his first shift and the world did not stop revolving. The trash got out to the curb. The kids got to school on time. They got baths every night and some even got the croup and lived. The bills got paid. I opened jars on my own, lugged the laundry down stairs, fixed plugged toilets and sinks, and handled belligerence without screaming like a banshee.

And damn if felt good for Bill to come home and see the house in order and the kids happy and fine. Things were not perfect, but when are they ever?

I still need to get the balls to drive the 5th wheel and hopefully I will do that on our next trip to the coast. But hey, baby steps.

Bill still is…well, Bill. He likes to do things around the house. Feh, what is a girl to do. He likes to sweep, mop, do the laundry, fix the cars, mow the grass, renovate our kitchen, paint, and he is great in bed. All in all though, I am self sufficient again, (save for that last little part).

One of the things I had to take care of this week was a new license plate for my car. It was torn off in the wreck I had last week. The wreck I had in front of my house…while driving to the bank that is across the street. The bank I could have walked to, but didn’t. Ahem. Bill nagged asked me to go get it taken care of that day, so I agreed.

I called and inquired what they needed from me, gathered my wallet etc, and walked out to the car. I opened the door, and started to climb in but could not help but notice the enormous screwdriver on my seat. I would need it to remove the license plate on the rear of my car, and I have to be honest to say that it would have never occured to me to bring a large screw driver with me to get a new plate for the car.

Call a spade a spade, or a Barbie a Barbie…..but I like that he does these things for me. I smiled from ear to ear and thought, what the hell would I ever do without him? I had my answer as I drove down the road, with my screwdriver beside me in the front seat……I would miss him. That is what.

I would miss the hell out of him.