The Joke Is On Me

This morning while scrolling through my feed reader and scarfing my breakfast, I came across this post by Sara Wilson. Her mention of author Laura Munson's book This Is Not the Story You Think It Is reminded me that I had read that very book sometime last year. At the time it was just the beginning of the problems I was to experience in my life and my marriage over the next year and a half.  I remember thinking in relief that, thank goodness my marriage wasn't going through that and I marveled at the strength of self the author showed. I loved the book, retained a lot of valuable wisdom from it, but then promptly threw all that wisdom out the window when things got truly difficult. It then became about me me me and me being right right right and him being wrong wrong wrong. It's a daily struggle to remember to ask yourself the question, "Do you want to be right or do you want to love?"

Sara shares some widsom from Rumi,
"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there."

I detest being lonely. Something to do with way back in my childhood has hardwired me to be attention seeking (whether negative or positive), needy, and nearly incapable of being alone. I'm prone to apologize even when I don't think I'm in the wrong just to retain closeness. Of course that in turn leads to resentment. Or I might practice what is termed as "proximity seeking". Meaning I will strategically place myself close to the person even if the vibe is strained or I know they want distance just so I don't feel the physical pain of solitude. When I say the person, I really mean my husband. For the most part I am capable of acting like a normal human being in most other relationships. Although honestly there are always exceptions.

I explain all this to say...I don't want to go sit in the field and wait. I want to ask a million questions...will there be snacks in the field? will there be distractions? is there wi-fi available? can someone come sit with me and keep me company? can I take a nap while I wait? And then when my questions run out I want to bargain...please don't make me go to the field. i'll be good. i'll be chill. i'll do what you want just don't make me go be by myself until you decide to come meet me. 

Over the past year and a half I have walked out to the field, waited in the cold, grown tired of waiting and run back home. Only to return to the field and repeat the process over and over and over. There have been times he has come out to the the field himself and we have sat there together for a time. But it has yet to happen that we have come out of the field side by side.

Laura's book shows that she possesses a level of patience and tolerance and love that I have yet to master. When I really examine my actions and behaviors closely I see that my ego is still alive and kicking. I thought it was dying, that it had actually died, but evidently catlike in its qualities it has nine lives and no regard for anyone's life but its own. I've asked that it be taken to the firing squad for a quick execution but instead it has been sentenced to the cross for a slow death. And I am front row for its pain and pleading. Wanting to save it only to save myself the agony. There is no love in that.

While my husband and I have been fighting our own private battles we have been waging war against each other. We are exhausted. Fighting off what you perceive as the enemy on all sides takes its toll. It's hard to be rational from a place of exhaustion. It's painful to love when you feel you are under attack. It's difficult to recognize wisdom when your supplies have run out and the troops have deserted you. They realized that the battle is pointless but you are still there, firing at yourself and calling it a win.

One thing I've come to realize during my conversion is that I am actually never truly alone. While in moments of weakness I might forget but it always comes back to me. God is always with me. He is there through the pain. He is there in my marriage. He is giving me support and letting me fall according to His plan. And the joker that He is, He is making sure that I understand good and well that things happen on His timeline and not mine. The final step of me being able to come into full communion with the Church has now been put in my husband's hands. That's right. We need to have our marriage convalidated before I can receive all the sacraments. Basically...we have to get married again.

Pray for me...
Please.

Fiat

I always start my prayers with a Hail Mary. Maybe because it is the first prayer I learned.

When I drafted this post last month I had intended to write about the ways I was being called to say yes in my life. Instead after the events of the past week, I can say that instead of being called I have been pushed...shoved...or maybe more accurately stumbled my way to rock bottom. The bottom has been found folks. It has been found and it is cold and hard and lonely. It shall be a long climb from here but there is nowhere to go but up.

So I call on my Heavenly Mother for help, on my patron saint, on my protector Michael, on my healer Raphael, on my model Francis of Assisi. But most of all on my Lord.

On My Bookshelf

In the last month I've read:

Reshaping It All by Candace Cameron Bure - okay...this faith thing is a little new to me and its been only recently that I've thought about enlisting divine help in regards to my health and fitness. I think Candace Cameron Bure is an absolute doll and I admire her commitment to all things. In this book she lays out how she handed over an eating disorder to God and found a sustainable model of health.

Raising Grateful Kids In An Entitled World by Kristen Welsh - I came across Kristen's blog not too long ago and really liked her conversational style of writing. She always has some great pieces on parenting and I was eager to read her book. It didn't disappoint. Not just another parenting book, it is thoughtful and reads like a really good story with just the right amount of advice thrown in.

My Badass Book of Saints by Maria Morera Johnson - I really wanted to love this book and it had some great stories, but it didn't captivate me nor would I quickly recommend it to a friend.

How We Love by Milan and Kay Yerkovich - Hands down the best book I've read on marriage and relationships. I give this book 5 stars and urge you procure a copy immediately. It has been a tremendous help in my own self-realization and its truly not boring like a lot of books in this genre can be. I love that it is written from both of their perspectives as a married couple and as counselors. I can guarantee you will find a bit of yourself and your love style in there and take away invaluable advice on how to better connect with your spouse.



On my bedside table waiting their turn:

Little Sins Mean A Lot by Elizabeth Scalia
Victory Over The Darkness by Neil T. Anderson
Confessions by Saint Augustine
Out of Solitude by Henry Nouwen

UNRAVELING MY FAITH: Borrowed Words

This post is part of a series I wrote over the last 6 months and am just now publishing...

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness and witherings, of tarnishings." -Anais Nin

I like to let others speak for me. What I cannot form into words, I can almost always find in a quote. You know the ones that just grab you? Jerk you right off your chair. I collect them. I scribble quotes everywhere, screenshot them,  letter them in journals.  Quotes are to be shared. Doled out like advice.

"A person learns how to love himself through the simple acts of loving and being loved by someone else." - Haruki Murakami

The last two books that came into my possession have handwritten quotes in the front. Favorites of the giver of the books. Words are so beautiful and sometimes you can't speak clearly anymore; because of whatever reason. Maybe your heart just hurts and your thoughts are disjointed.  Maybe you devour language and literature and let people's words brand your soul and knit your thoughts together for you.

"The most beautiful voice in the world is that of an educated Southern woman."- Winston Churchill

I'm not insinuating that all your collected quotes must come from great works of literature or spiritual leaders and figures of the past. Sometimes you can find exactly what you couldn't say in a simple blog post. Another soul was feeling exactly as you are and found a way to articulate it and then they had the courage to take it and immortalize it with pen and paper or keyboard and storage cloud if that is the case. What you couldn't say has now been said and its either a tool or a weapon depending on how you choose to use it. I'm fond of texting my husband quotes whether he wants me to or not. I suppose I feel that if someone else said it then he can't take it as a directed at him. But of course, I'm probably just fooling myself on that point.

 "But there’s something deeper here too, a growing awareness that real life and real

 love have less to do with feelings and a whole lot more to  do with acts of courage, acts of grace, and acts of quiet, desperate surrender."- Jenny from Mama Needs Coffee

In one of my journals I have a page full of quotes. I try to gather my scattered jottings together sometimes and inscribe them there so I have something to reference. I'm prone to quoting things my family members and friends say. There are quotes from my kids, my husband, and even myself on those pages. Not all are wise or wordy or particularly moving. Some just needed to be recorded like a photograph. To be reread and pull you back into whatever conversation or moment spawned the words.

"It doesn't matter who you marry; they're gonna be psycho."- my husband

And upon rereading those quotes you can often see the truth hidden behind the humor. Or the pain hidden behind the wisdom. You can take solace in knowing that you aren't alone in your sufferings or in your triumphs. And if you are like me and can't always find the right words, I can almost guarantee that someone has said it already, exactly how you want to say it yourself.

6 Years Later

Love ya more than the moon babe.

Happy Anniversary.

Wordless Wednesday: He's Totally Got My Back...That Or He Just Pinched My Booty!

SugarBritches Book Of Love

Marriage Rule #38- Any t-shirts that you may have received from winning a wet t-shirt contest now belong to your husband. Just cause.

Marriage Rule #231- There will be shaving hairs around the sink. No matter how often you yell or nag or plead. They will be there.

Marriage Rule #16- You must not communicate with any ex-boyfriends on Facebook. No matter how bad you want to snoop their pictures and scope out their mousy looking wife. Do not. Just stop.

Marriage Rule #72- Do not expect any home improvement projects to be done in a timely manner. In fact, just add at least two weeks onto the time it would take you to do the said project.

Marriage Rule #3- Be patient. Because if you aren't, your head will explode.

Anniversary Links

Today is my anniversary.

Even though I won't be participating in any anniversary type activities with my darling sweet husband, I also won't be blogging. It's kind of a present to him.

Oops.



Nest Treehouses

Floating Campground

The Most Beautiful China Ever

Hello My Name Is Heather

Crafty Book

Carrie Bradshaw's Tutu

On Being A Trained Wife

I was never prepared to be a wife. A mother maybe, but not a wife. You evolve into a mother out of necessity and chances are you are a damn good mother. But honestly...in the beginning, were you a damn good wife?

I wasn't. I admit that.

I wasn't a bad wife, I just didn't really try. See I was delusional. I thought that once I was married, things would just automatically be easy. My husband would treat me like a princess, help with the housework, share the childcare duties, and be home on time every night. He would never raise his voice to me, never stay out late, never leave my side. I'm a clingy one, dontcha' know. Well he didn't. Surprise honey!

It's funny that I thought all of this because I had been married before. And my first marriage was the complete opposite of everything I just described. For some reason I was convinced that since I had found the right man, then things would automatically be how I perceived a happy marriage to be.

And of course they weren't. And since I wasn't trying very hard, things sucked. When I look at it now, I realize that for the most part, I was making them suck. The suckage was all my doing. Whenever the husband and I had a disagreement, I expected him to apologize every single time or rather not even argue with me at all. My way or the highway buddy! I would get mad that I had to pick up after him, since I picked up after the kids all day. Nevermind the fact that he had just done 8-10 hours of backbreaking hard labor in 100 degree weather on the side of a mountain, uphill both ways, etc. etc. etc. I acted hurt and abandoned if he ever wanted to go out of the house without me. Even though he always asked way ahead of time, called to check on me frequently, and was always home at a decent time (except for that one bachelor party but we won't go there). I was stubborn, spoiled, and all around hard to live with.

Looking back on the last five years that we have been together, I can see the gradual change I went through. That we both went through. I know that our marriage wasn't truly a happy one until about year number three, and I don't think there was in sudden shift from unhappy to happy. We just settled in for the long haul. We learned about each other and adjusted. We began to pick our battles instead of going full throttle over every tiff. We figured out what little things made us both happy and we campaigned for them, demanded that they be met.

I'm not trying to act like an expert on marriage. I hold no degree and hey let's face it...my first marriage didn't even last a year. I just know myself and I like to think I know my husband. And I know that we are happy. Happiness is hard to come by.

These days I try really really hard to be a good wife. I do my share and more without complaint. I'm his sounding board when he's had a hard day. I ask before I assume. I give him as much space as a needy person such as myself can. I'm affectionate when appropriate. Downright dirty when called for. Apologetic when wrong. I'm trained. What can I say. He's got me good.

There Is Always That One Girl

Saturday evening we attended the hubby's nine year high school reunion.

Nine years, you ask? Why not ten?

Nine because the hubs went to such a small school that rolling together three graduating classes into one reunion was the only way to draw a crowd.

He went to school with an amazing group of people, many of which I had never met, but ended up having a fabulous time with.

But there is always that one girl.

You know the one I speak of. The one who perhaps has self-esteem issues. Or maybe just loves rubbing up on any man that doesn't belong to her.

The one you catch trying to dirty dance your husband right next to you. The one who gives many more hugs than necessary and fawns all over him to the point of ridiculousness. The one you mutter under your breath about but remember that you are a grown woman who wouldn't dare stoop to the level of grabbing said girl by her hair and smashing her face in the bar.

Ahem. Yeah. That one.

Then you realize that your husband isn't her only target. Any human with a penis and within her eyesight is fair game. Every time you turn around she is wrapped up on a man, married or not.

Then you start to feel sorry for her. A little. Because obviously she has issues and you are the bigger woman (figuratively) and oh that poor girl, bless her heart! She must need attention badly.

And at this point you've forgiven and forgotten all. That is unless she tries to touch your man again, like she did as you were exiting the bar on your way home. And at that point, all your class goes right out the window as you holler an extremely vulgar obscenity at her, stare her down, and watch as she runs back inside.

Decorum be damned. Nobody messes with my husband.

The end.

The Look Alike Marriage

A few years ago, before the Hubby and I were married, a co-worker made a comment that irked me. She asked, after seeing the Hubby drop me off at work, if he was my brother. She thought we looked so much alike we must be siblings. She even went on to remark that it would be very strange if we ever had children, she'd have no clue who they would resemble as their parents were practically twins.

It reminded me of the old joke that dogs and their owners eventually started to look alike. But then I realized that the twinsies syndrome was evident in a few married couples I knew. To save face I won't name names, but I can think of at least 6 couples that resemble each other more than any non-blood related relatives should. Is this a normal occurrence? I asked my husband and he found it odd as well, but he also saw the similarities in those couple friends I used as examples.

I thought I came across the answer in my college psychiatry book. Some chapter on some mumbo jumbo psycho babble something or other suggested that we find facial features that resemble our own to be pleasing. That we want to pair with someone who looks like us to produce the best possible looking offspring. That is if we are vain and think ourselves are gorgeous specimens and we deserve nothing less.

I want to know your take on this. Is my opinion putting me in the minority? Do you think you and your significant other could be mistaken for siblings? Do me and the Hubby really look that much alike?

Hindsight is Really Just Foresight. Reversed.

When I was 20 years old I got pregnant. It wasn't expected and I was upset. I had a good job, a fast car, a rental house filled with wine bottles. I wasn't ready for a baby. But, the ex and I made the best of it for a whole year, and then we divorced. It was mutual at the time. Despite the friendly relationship we have 5 years later, things weren't so simple right after our split.

We fought, screamed, argued in front of our infant son. We told lies to each other and about each other to other people. We found others as well. Good others. And after several months, we reached common ground. We wanted what was best for our son and we wanted each other to be happy with those others we found. His being his wife. Mine being my husband.

I'd be lying now if I didn't say that there were times when I wanted him dead or at least harmed badly. At the time he had the power to make me so angry I shook and he took advantage of it every chance he got. But gradually he lost that power and we became friends. There were also times that I wished I had never married him. But then I think about it in hindsight and realize that isn't true. Had I never married the ex, I wouldn't have the Monster. That in itself is enough to make me do it all over again. Had I never married the ex, I wouldn't have been in the position I was to meet the Hubby. Resulting in my two other darling babies, Cashman and Sugarbaby.

Lots of things happened because I got pregnant, married a man, had a baby, and got a divorce. Lots of good things. Lots of life altering, heart wrenching, time stopping, never look back things. Maybe I knew what I was doing the whole time. Or maybe my mother did. On the day of my wedding to the ex, she told me that it wasn't too late to back out. Because she knew that in a very short time I would be a single mother. I told her that I knew that too, but this was the right thing to do at the time. I was right, but so was she.

A Day of Rest

The hubby decided today was the day for new oven installation. He cut through cabinets, counters, and everything in between. It's gorgeous. I love it. We're baking a celebration cake after 8 months of a baked goods free life.

After all the hubby's hard work, he had time to play. Beer, friends, a pine needle bonfire, and the laying waste of a tree that had been fallen. Stuck for too long.

Supergrandma came and free handed all the edges of Sugarbaby's room. She's so talented, that Supergrandma. She came, she painted, she left. After she was gone I worked on my bird mobile.

The birds that J sewed turned out so...me.

I finished the mobile amidst the chaos. It looks amazing against the Slow Dancer. A perfect color for the walls.

And Sugarbaby hung out in her brand new Peanut Shell all day.

Random Act of Kindness

The hubby is horrible about remembering to haul the trash to the end of the drive on Friday mornings. I usually make a trip to the mailbox early, see the can still by the garage and haul it myself. This morning I did not. When I heard the trash truck approaching I jumped up but knew I would surely miss it.

Then the sound got louder, like right outside my front door louder. The trash man backed his monstrous truck down my drive, right to my garage and took my trash. I am shocked, surprised and tickled. I think next week I will leave him some cookies. But where to leave them? I can't just set a plate of cookies on top of the trash. Who would want to eat them, even if they were wrapped up. Any suggestions?

I Hope He Isn't Reading This.

I feel like I don't write about the hubby nearly enough. That is probably just fine by him as he loathes blogs, blogging, and all the wasted time spent in the blogosphere. But nevermind his fuddy duddiness cause he is a great guy.

Dooce just did a marriage meme and it inspired me to do my own. So here goes.

What are your middle names?
Well, that's a little too personal for me so I'll just say our middle initials are W and A.

How long have you been together?
Since 2004. Married since 2006.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Hmmm. We knew each other in high school and didn't start dating until 04' so that would be 4 years. Someone better check my math.

Who asked whom out?
Technically I asked him out. We had run into each other and talked on the phone a few times, but had not gone out. One night I was supposed to go out with a girlfriend and at the last minute she invited a guy to go with us. Knowing how she acted when it was anyone else but just the two of us, I dropped by his work and asked him to go with us so I didn't sit by myself all night.

How old are each of you?
I'm 26. He is 27.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
Considering I don't really have siblings, we see his more.

What situation is hardest on you as a couple?
Personal freedom. Time spent with or away from kids. Making that time fair and so on. Staying home versus working versus me needing a break, then him needing a break after work. It's tough but worth it.

Did you go to the same school?
No. Well once we did. We went to the same community college at the same time for about a semester. He went to a few colleges though.

Are you from the same hometown?
No. Our hometowns are about 20 miles apart.

Who is smarter?
Tough one. I am going to be truthful and say him. He has a broad knowledge of lots of things and can talk politics and economics and such. My intelligence is limited to literature and parenting. I kind of like it like that.

Who is the most sensitive?
Umm, me.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Nowhere now. When we lived in a more metro area we frequented a cajun place called Cafe'Rue Orleans. Best crawfish, oysters, steak, gumbo, etc. ever!

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Vegas.

Who has the craziest exes?
I don't know very much about any of his exes but what I do know, I'm going to say he does. My exes aren't crazy, just unqualified to be my significant other.

Who has the worst temper?
Toss up. I have a quicker temper but cool down easily. He takes a while to heat up, but when he does it is bad.

Who does the cooking?
I do, but only out of necessity. I'm here when the cooking needs to be done. When he does cook it is an exercise in heat and usually very colorful and tasty. I wish he cooked more. He's good at it.

Who is the neat-freak?
Me. I walk around the house freaking out about crumbs, socks, stray toys. The list goes on and on.

Who is more stubborn?
We both used to be extremely stubborn, but that is one of those things we've both worked on. We're getting better. We swear. We will not change our minds about this.

Who hogs the bed?
Ooooh, he does. He does.

Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Out of necessity again. Someone has to get up with the baby.

Where was your first date?
Dave's on Dickson. We saw a show the last night before the place closed. But if you want to go way back, we once ate lunch together at the Subway on the campus of the college we both attended. I remember we were both nervous and all we talked about was books and authors. Many burnt out brain cells later, I still remember that lunch and the impression he left on me.

Who is more jealous?
Me. I think.

How long did it take to get serious?
About a month or so. We both had to quit those other people we were seeing or stringing along before we made it serious.

Who eats more?
I eat more often, but smaller amounts. He eats less often but in much larger quantities.

Who does the laundry?
I do mine and the kids and the linens. He does his. He doesn't like the way I fold things.

Who's better with the computer?
He is. It runs in the family.

Who drives when you are together?
I do most of the time. His track record isn't so great.