Sometimes people ask me how Nate and I ended up together. Not in a "how did you two meet?" kinda way, but in a "what brought the two of you together? you are so....different..." sort of way. And sometimes, and I know Nate would agree, we even wonder the same thing to ourselves. We really are quite different. I am more of a morning person, he stays up late into the night. I am a pile maker, and cant put things away until I know there is a proper place for them (which can drive him crazy); while Nate is a "tidier" who likes to "make things disappear" by hiding them away in drawers. So we can never find them. Nate is easy going, and mellow, and even tempered, while I could be described as "spirited" or even a bit, ahem, "emotional" (at least that's what I have heard...). I wear my heart on my sleeve, so to speak.
Nate lovingly refers to my style of driving as "barreling" while I think he is a dawdler...a "side window-looker-outer"...one who is easily distracted by things in people's yards....or other cars...or conversation...! He prefers the basement cave, which he keeps at a crisp 15* below 0 (so cold I get a jacket before I go down to visit him) (seriously I think I saw my breath downstairs on my last visit), while I prefer the main level temperature which Nate likes to call "tropical." His car is nice and clean, emptied of all children's items and trash after each trip. My car at last count had 3 pairs of shoes, 2 folding chairs, 4 stadium chairs, 3 tennis rackets, a bag for Goodwill, 400 barrettes/bobby pins/hair bands, 4 water cups from various restaurants, lots of crumbs, some sort of lip gloss wiped on the back door, and an old apple rolling around on the floor.
Oh, and dont even get me started on our medical differences. I am a regular doctor visitor. I go. Whenever needed. I take various kinds of medicine that I need to live a regular life, so this forces me to participate in routine doctor visits. Nate, on the other hand, cut his foot last summer and walked around on it for 3 months before realizing, one evening while watching tv, that there was a 1/2 inch PIECE OF GLASS poking out of the cut!! Thankfully it hadnt become infected! He is the guy who comes home bleeding and has no idea how it happened, and doesnt even bother to bandaid it. He has the stomach of an ox. I have the stomach of a colicky baby.
But aside from these and other obvious differences (he is much more hairy, has been compared to a Polar Bear or Yeti; I am much paler and frailer, and could be compared to, say, a tiger cub) we work. I somehow fit perfectly in that crook under his arm when he snuggles me in. And we get each other. His aim is to have fun getting there, my aim is to get there then hopefully have fun. And this balances us. He reminds me to enjoy the small things, to live in the moment, and to cherish the quirky family that we are. I pop the dream balloons and bring us all back to earth so we can actually get where we are going, and be somewhat respectably clothed and cared for along the way. He's the sunshine and I am the rain (which is also very necessary to keep things growing, right? :). Im the business in the front and he's the party in the back. Im the apple, he's the Twinkie. He's the Golden Retriever and Im the German Shepherd (on task?) or maybe the nervous little Italian Greyhound with the sweater...always shivering and cold. The point is for some crazy reason I love that guy. And for an even crazier reason, he loves me.
