Expectations

I was having lunch with a co-worker earlier this week and we were complaining about our husbands. She pointed out that the problem we have is that we have expectations that they don't and won't ever meet. She went onto say that the problem in all relationships stems from expectations, and she's right. She implied that we should just not have them. I think that's impossible.

Of course I immediately thought of my expectations of M&P. I expected them to write more, send more pictures. I expected my son to want to meet me when he was around 8. Why 8? Because when I was in fourth grade a little boy in my class (who actually had the same first name as the one M&P gave my son) told all of us that he was adopted. He told us this information because we were doing a unit where each child brought in a poster about himself/herself and told the class about it before it was hung up on the wall. Every day two or three kids did this. Anyway ... the boy seemed perfectly fine with being adopted. He didn't seem to feel rejected, nor did he seem to feel overly special. I never talked with him about it, though, and my family moved away from that town a little over a year later.