Aaron has spent the entire weekend pursuing the job opportunities you all sent his way.
Thank you. I hope we say that often enough.
Aaron was going a little stir crazy today. He's had one thing on his mind since we landed. Job. He takes this husband, dad, provider gig pretty serious. I have sweet peace a phone call is right around the corner. Aaron has turned in umpteen job applications and resumes to companies all over the US. Today I could tell. This weight. The stress. Visible. I could see him carrying it around.
"What can we do here tonight to lighten the mood?" We know better than to think magic and fun have to be bought. It's here already. Somewhere. It's here. It always is. We just have to find it.
Aaron politely excused himself from his computer screen and his never-ending job search. "I'm going to take the boys out for a little while and let them shoot a gun."
We said we were open to moving outside of Texas for a job if we must, but I've heard rumor that it's not normal in every zip code in America for people to up and decide to go outside and "shoot stuff." Surely that's just a rumor. I also heard it snows in other states. I'm hoping that's a myth too. Like Big Foot. Or a size 2 with a D cup.
For all of you gun haters, know that I kind of hate them too.
Breathe easy. The boys shot grass.
Having a gun in sight makes my legs feel like my femurs fell out.
I watched way too much Lifetime television growing up.
I'm convinced. Guns = tragic, accidental death.
Yet here my babies are shooting one.
Life is mysterious.
This was just the magic Aaron and the boys needed.
Maybe it was the guns.
After a shot is fired, their eyes are wild.
The boys start jumping.
Something inside their chest seems to explode.
Or maybe it was being wrapped up tight in their daddy's arms.
His voice in their ear gently teaching them how to aim.
Reminding them how to hold the gun.
It's hard to tell which did the trick.
Their daddy or the gunpowder.
This was right before a phone started ringing in my ear. No one would answer it. The nerve.
I love to say the word, "Pee-stol" way more than I like shooting one.
Funny story about this pee-stol. And when I say, "funny" what I actually mean is "terrifying."
Aaron and I were newly married. Like brand-newly married. I walked into our bedroom. Saw a gun on the dresser. I had never seen it there before. I picked it up. In a happy-go-lucky manner I said, "What's this?" Then I casually pulled the trigger while pointing it at Aaron. This all happened in less than 10 seconds. I looked at Aaron, waiting for him to answer. I noticed he was green and not really breathing like a normal person. He was freaked. It's one of the few times that easy-going Aaron has raised his voice at me. "Why did you do that? I just brought that gun in. I took the bullets out of that gun maybe two minutes ago and then set it there on the dresser. Why did you just SHOOT a GUN at me?"
My brilliant response? "Really? It looks like a fake gun. Like a pirate gun. Or a cowboy gun. This is a REAL GUN? WHAT?" I dropped it. Or threw it. I was terrified.
Then he said some things about not pointing guns at people. Or shooting guns at people. Or dropping guns. Or throwing guns.
Aaron was finally starting to look flesh-colored again.
It took a minute for the gravity of what just happened to hit me.
"I could have totally killed you."
Then I said I was sorry.
Which seems like a really lame thing to say after you almost accidentally shoot someone dead, but it's all I could think to say.
Aaron grew up with guns. He shot things. He went hunting. His dad taught him gun safety. Guns were a normal part of every day life in his home.
I never had seen a gun in a house. I was raised by a single mom who didn't make a habit of packin' heat.
I'm so glad I didn't kill my brand new husband. He's such a terrific person, and there is no flippin' way I'm pullin' off the family band without him.
This concludes entry #842 entitled, "We are one, but we were raised two different ways."
We're praying the phone rings this week. The real phone. Not the one in my ear. The one with someone on the other end saying, "By golly, you're all we've ever wanted. All we could ever hope for. I'm sitting here hugging your application." Or a simple "We got your resume and would love for you to come in for an interview" will do too, I guess.