How Women Do Things

You may have read how women and men are different.

You may have thought, "Boy, women and men are different!"

You may have just been involved in something that made you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that men and women are different.

I am a woman in pain. Plus, I think I'm getting sick, but don't tell nobody.

I am blessed to have a husband who has a servant's heart and who loves me, and tries his best to help me in any way  he can.

But today, we came into the house and I said I was going to lie down for a few minutes. Of course, when I got upstairs, I realized I forgot the ice pack. When I asked Husband if he would get it for me, he did not hesitate to say yes.

So, I am going to lie down, right? But first, I get stuff out of the dryer and put stuff in the dryer. I take my meds that were due an hour ago. I feed the cat. I look over the  mail that is laying on the bed. I put my manuscript in the three hole folder I have for it.

What is wrong with me?

I can't stop.I can't stop even though my throat hurts, my feet hurt, my back hurts, my everydangthing hurts.

Husband says, "I'm gonna lay down in the recliner for a minute."

So, what does he do?

All together now:

He lays down in the recliner for a couple of hours.

I will ask you again:

What is wrong with me?

I suspect it's the difference between a woman and a man.

My Mini-Me

Talking about Daughter in my last blog made her sound like she was my mini-me. Well, she ain't. She has many differences, too.

The funny thing is, I always attribute those differences like my mother did mine. I tower over my mother and was even with my Daddy's height. "You get being so tall from the James' side of the family," She'd tell me.

For instance, with Daughter:

She is much smaller boned than I, like my mother.

She has very skinny feet that are almost impossible to buy shoes for, like my cousin Donna.

See what I mean?

Why can't we say about all our children:  They are who they are, they are themselves. We can't do it! Maybe it has something to do with claiming them, I don't know.

How else is Daughter different?

She gets over anger much faster than I. (which I admire)

She is the Princess of procrastination. (which I detest)

Sometimes she can look at something with a different eye and make a perfect suggestion that I haven't been able to see.

She has a tender heart in a different way than I do.

She has more 'go' in her than I have ever had. By that I mean "Did somebody say go? I'm ready."

But whether like me or very different from me, thank God, she's still my young'un.

I wrote a poem many years ago, and the last lines go like this:

She may not have my blood in her veins, 
Or my genes to influence her start,
But she has something far more important that reigns,
She has every inch of my heart.

Indeed.