Marc Parsont and wifeThere are some parents, both male and female, who do not want to have children.  I respect their wishes completely.

It is not easy being a parent.  As a matter of fact, we know that there are lots of lousy parents out there – certainly a lot of clueless ones.

I remember when we (young newlyweds, albeit old newlyweds, too) visited my brother and his family in Tucson.  Heidi and I could not believe that anyone could raise children like that and not wind up in either an institution or in jail.

The snide comments and “suggestions” we made didn’t seem to go over too well.  I don’t know why?   Could the fact that we didn’t yet have children and didn’t have a clue, be the reasons?

I am eight years older than my wife; I was 12 years old when we got married…  Age notwithstanding, we knew we had to get our horses onto the trail at a trot.  Please pardon me as I say I tried to rise to the occasion, but dammit ladies we’re not machines.  We sure wish we could turn a button on!

As tired as I was from upholding my contribution to conception, most of the work on timing and exercising and eating right fell on Heidi.  Most of the planning before pregnancy and pretty much since then has fallen on her, too.

Marrying a male massage therapist is risky business.  Marrying a male massage therapist who thinks he’s part-time husband, part-time comedian, part-time savior to the masses, snide, sarcastic, narcisistic, totally politically incorrect, with attention deficit disorder and a schnozz that the Coast Guard uses for a foghorn, is nearly suicidal.

And I’m pretty sure that’s the good stuff.

Saying that my wife and I have different personalities is a slight understatement.  She is Type A, logical and straightforward.  I can’t spell type A, get to a point circuitously, and try not to hurt people’s feelings ever.

It’s difficult to communicate sometimes, but she understands (I think) and tries to make out what my garbled MarcSpeak means.

She’s kind, loving, smart, a successful businesswoman, a wonderful mother to our two children and pretty nice and patient to her grownup child.  I guess what I’m trying to say, Heidi, in my roundabout way, is “I Love You.  Happy Mother’s Day (even tho’ this is late).”

(Heidi, Did I tell you that I also tend to wander when I’m writing?)