Shark

Yes, my son is officially a talking boy. He’s chattering more and more, and coming up with so many words that I’ve lost count. He just started yelling “shark” at Word World on the television (there’s a shark swimming about on screen). He’s officially two years old, and so much fun I can’t imagine how I lasted as long as I did without my boy. He’s so smart and funny and earnest, and so incredibly different from my girl.

Back to normal around here, and I have to say, I’m loving it. I adore my husband, more than I ever thought possible, but I was happy to wave him off to work this morning. We had a major battle yesterday – details unimportant, except to say that I’m profoundly grateful that we fight as rarely as we do, because it’s just miserable when we don’t like each other. I had such a migraine last night, and can feel it sneaking back on me.

I was thinking about interfaith relationships (any clues on what we battled about?). It’s one of the few topics that we both get really upset about, religion, spirituality and the ownership of what our kids are going to think/believe as adults. Which, when you think about it, is really foolish, they’re both smart, capable people who will form their own thoughts and opinions. To assume that we have the ability to determine what they think thirty years from now is incredible arrogance, I think, on our parts, but it doesn’t stop us from assuming that what we do now has life and death consequences. I wonder if couples who are of the same faith have it easier – but I have to say that they probably don’t. They might not fight about whether to attend a synagogue or a church, but I bet they’ve got their own crisises in their marriages. Marc and I are so in sync on so many issues, it’s baffling and frustrating to me that we fight about this as often or as intensely as we do…