Well, now. As I sit here typing, Goo (the hubby) is in the  ER. He had a doctor's appt this morning and they sent him over.  Sigh.  I suppose that's what I get for bragging about my normalish Christmas.  I don't think it's horrendously serious, but it's awful enough to need an ER.   And it's bad that I can't go to know.  We literally do everything in shifts.  Not knowing is the worst.  Besides being nervous for him (He's at that age where acting like you don't need to take care of yourself begins to have consequences.), now I worry who will stay up with Feisty Pants if he cannot.   And I feel bad that I don't just feel worried for him, but for all of us.  I never know really, whether that makes me practical or just selfish.

          I do know, however that it makes me angry and frustrated.  The man is a grown man and yet if I didn't nag him, he would live on reeses cups, bacon and coffee. And he laughs at the idea of doing yoga or going for walks with me.  In case, men, you ever wonder we seem so pissed all the time, it's because you have the luxury of acting like frigging teenagers while the women make your doctor appt's and pick up the pieces when you are in the ER.  And then, when you get together with other husbands and boyfriends, you find it funny to laugh about our attempts to get you to be healthier.  You make jokes about bacon being health food or exercise being for girls.  Or complain about women being controlling because we want you to act like adults. Or even worse, complain we are cold and insensitive when we don't seem very sympathetic to your aches and pains when you don't take care of yourself in the first place.  A question, husbands of the world, would have sympathy for an alcoholic who is complaining about his hangover?  Or, more to the point, would you sympathize with the guy who complains about his car repair bills when he REFUSED to ever change the oil in his car? Your actions don't just affect you, you know.   If the car blows up because you did not care for it, we are walking too.  And so are your children. If you drop dead of a heart attack or stroke because you were too much of a "man" to have "time for that crap", then we are the ones burying your spoiled butts and picking up the pieces of your kids' shattered lives.  For about the millionth time, being a grown up does not mean you can do whatever the hell you want, about no one having the right to tell you what to do.   It's about no one ever needing to have to tell you what to do because you are already doing the right thing.  Being an adult is all about integrity.  Not age, not power, not money.  Integrity.

              Moreover, taking care of your health isn't neurotic or girly or weak, it's about making sure you are in this world for the long haul. It's about being there for your wives/girlfriends/boyfriends/husbands and families and kids.   It's about not dropping out halfway through by dropping dead.  It's about showing us that you know commitment really is a two way street.  By caring for you, you are caring for us.  The same thing we are trying to do when we make your doctor appointments and nag you about your diet and bug you about exercise.    We are just trying to make sure WE are all in it for the long haul.