Dreamers aren't afraid

There's something I really love about Sam.  He is never afraid to ask for a deal.  I never knew that we could ask for a discount places, but he does all the time.

We save a bunch of money all the time on our remodeling projects and purchases just because he isn't afraid to ask.  He'll site that we're taking the floor model because that's all that's left...and we get a discount.  He'll point out that there's no box...discount.  He'll point out the flaws in the product...the wood is warped some, there's a scratch on the door, there are nicks in the trim...discount.

I often wish I was braver like that.  I wish I was unafraid.  Sam can be really fearless.  I love that about him.

He's my big protector.

And I have to tell you, it's a huge change for me.  I went from feeling like I had to take care of everything and be everything to having someone help me out and share life's burdens.  What a lovely change.  And it was a bit of an adjustment for both of us.

It's just like the other day when I was talking to my mother on the phone about how I was uncomfortable and having trouble sleeping.  She suggested we change sides of the bed.  Silly, mommy.

We can't.  Seriously.  We can't.

Sam has this thing, always has.  Our placement in bed is determined by where the door is to the room.  He has to be closer to the door to protect me.  If things go bump in the night, he has to be the one there to face them and fight them if necessary.

I never understood the world to be such a scary place.  I was so sheltered growing up.  And I thought most of the violent stuff only happened on television.  I've seen otherwise...especially the last few years.  And all I know is that despite knowing I have more to be afraid of, that the dangers are very real, I feel safe.  I'm not afraid.

Guess I've always been like that.  It scares Sam a little.  He doesn't like my reaction to some situations.  He wishes I had a healthier fear.  Somehow I just can't muster the fear when I know that I'm safe and loved and protected.  I don't put myself into bad spots, but I don't run either.

In fact, the only thing I've been afraid of in a long time is the possibility of losing this baby.  And I have to tell you, the longer this pregnancy continues, the less afraid I am of that.  Part of it, I'm sure, has to do with feeling out of control.  This is one of the areas of my life that no matter what I do, I can't control the outcome.  I can take all my vitamins, which I never used to do.  I can drink milk.  I can exercise.  I can lay on my left side.  I can be practically perfect.  It's of little consequence.  The survival of this little one is out of my hands.  I'm doing the best I can.  Luckily, Sam helps me be strong and brave and confident.

We just have to survive the winter.  Big bright changes are on the way.