On fighting the praise cravings...

A lesson that I am learning through the forced separation of deployment is the simple one of valuing my marriage... more specifically the menial tasks that make it work.

In the middle of a conversation this past Sunday, a woman I am growing to love and admire said of marriage, "Thirty years is good... it's fun.  Little kids are hard." She was not saying that what I have now is not good or fun, but rather that the best is still out there... and she had no idea how much I had been meditating on that lately.

There is an elderly couple very dear to me who are going through the hard hard process of... well, dying together.  One is deteriorating quicker than the other, and as the strength and dominance of his masculinity fade, she has to tug pretty hard on the reins in their household.  I can only heartbreak for her and the lonely grief of her task, but I will say now and then... I see a flare of bitterness held for years by a strong woman who was always subservient and perhaps deserved and wished for praise that was denied.

I only make this observation public because when I see it, it speaks so strongly of my future that it scares me.  There was a time very recently when my behavior was selfish more in pattern than in occasion.  I don't think this is unusual for a girl like me, in my stage of life.  It takes a very mature person, who knows themselves, their Lord, and their tasks well to not fall prey to it.  I was feeling lost in my daily ritual, I felt like I was aging more than growing, that my ability to shine in some tiny and useful way was slipping from my grasp... and well, my discontent made me paranoid.  I wanted praise.  I wanted Matt to notice and love every effort I made, and  felt down-trodden if he didn't.

During this time I had a night that I am not proud of, but feel like fessing up to for the sake of insight.  We were having friends over for dinner the next day, and I didn't know them very well and was nervous about making a good first impression.  Our little house had taken a beating over the week from messy toddlers and dogs, and I was exhausted from prepping dinner, and cleaning.  Matt had been watching football and I was doing everything {notice how aware I was of that}.  Jayden dumped a full cup of sticky lemonade all over my freshly mopped floor, and I flipped.  I yelled, I cried... Matt declared me insane on the spot, and said we should probably cancel the whole thing if I was going to get so worked up about nothing.  I gave him a few choice words, then went for a walk around the block to cool off.

There was a lot in me in that moment, and none of it had anything to do with Matt no matter how much I wanted to blame him.  I was wrong, and had some heart issues to work out.  And I needed to realize a few things about myself and my spouse.  First off, no matter how many times I get angry at him... Matt is not going to help me get the house ready for guests.  He does not see the need.  AT ALL.  And maybe that's not bad.  Maybe I am too prideful and insecure to say, "this is not a magazine-cover... this is our home.  It is not perfect, but I am so glad to have you in it."   Maybe thinking I need to impress people is a problem.

Not just guests, but my husband as well.  That doesn't mean that there is no point, I should always give my best.

The thing that I am learning is... while he is gone, I still clean the house and cook the meals and raise our children.  I still put extra effort into unseen crevices, and I still love bringing in flowers, and the smell of pine sol, and delicious meals on pretty dishes.

I guess as much grief as I wanted to give him for not noticing, I wasn't really doing it for him.  Not solely.  I do it for me, too.  And I hope he likes it, loves it in fact... but I don't need his praise over simply living my life in a way that is good.  The tasks I was hoping for recognition for, and perhaps relief from when he was here go on when he is not, and I do them, and take pleasure in them.  And really that should be enough.

Maybe along with this I am learning what our roles are, as man and wife.  We are the unseen appendages of each other moving in an echo to make a life that is smooth and sweet.  The reward might not come in the form of words.  In fact, there are things that other people may see and appreciate in me that Matt will never see, and vice versa.  But we go on, working our separate motions that will never be exactly the same, but with time and practice become complimentary to each other.  Like a dance.  A complex, life-long dance.  Sometimes we two-step, sometimes we salsa, sometimes we just hold each a little sadly and sway.  But whatever we do, we do it for our partner... and we do it on our own. Amen.

Seven Years of Marriage...

The tally marks of anniversaries are added to the wall so quickly.  This year we celebrate seven, which I know is still a baby stage in this life-long commitment, but some days it really feels like we have been together forever {in a good way, wink.}

One of the things that used to scare me about marriage was the thought of losing myself. Not being independent, but not completely depending on someone takes mastery. In the end, I find it is not so much about losing myself, but about him saving me from myself.  Although it pains me to admit it, there have been times when I would have been wrong or embarrassed if he hadn't corrected me.  He makes me a better person.  He makes me braver, and stronger.  And I know that I do that for him, too.

Seven has always been a favorite number, and in marriage it is no different.  The rough patch that was year number six melted into smooth understanding with seven.  All of the places where we struggled to find a middle ground, all those growing pains in unity-- baked just long enough and hot enough to be bountiful bread for us this past year.  If there is any marital advice I feel qualified to give at this point, it is never walk away... even for a night.  Even if you can't agree, or you have been incredibly hurt,... you really should stay.  Abandonment is not a solution.  That is my two cents, anyway.  Fight it out... but never, ever say you are going to leave. {It's actually a little more irritating to say you are not going to move until the issue is resolved, don 't you think? If you feel the need to threaten, that's what I would go with.}

Matt has gone from a life full of training back into the regular work force.  It has not changed his schedule too much yet, but I know he is relieved to not be continually tested and graded.  This also marks four years for me being a stay-at-home mom.  I'll admit, there have been times I've sort of stunk at this; I am learning that as constricting as a schedule can be, I am so much better on one.  Our days are running smoother, and I can fit so much more into them.  I love how the boys get excited about "school" time, and that while my house may not sparkle, it is certainly ready for anyone who pops by.  I'm making strides in this whole homemaker thing.  People who scoff really have no idea...

This year Matt will not be with me on our anniversary, but I have never felt closer to him.  I read an old book recently in which a man proposed saying that he did not have much in the way of money, but he promised that by the evening fire, his face she would always see and hers he would always cherish.  The girl sort of got scared and rejected him... which was sad, but I totally get it.  With the wrong face, that would be a little creepy.  But with the right one, it is the most romantic line ever.  The fact that a man would gladly choose to spend his evenings in what some may deem boring solitude with his spouse, instead of out on more exciting shenanigans is the greatest compliment I can think of.  

Last year, I wrote that I was still a little sad for the loss of our former selves: I mourned the fact that there would be no more first kisses between us and all of the excitement of newness had faded.  This year I am grateful that I can be so fully myself, that I am not squirming in wonder if he really loves me, and I don't have to worry about being judged.  Dating was really a pain, people.  I was pretty stressed, and my heart was broken more than once.  I am so glad that I do not have to go through that anymore.  The comfort of growing old together is probably my favorite joy in this process.  I hope it's one I can continue in for many, many years.

What We Do Lately: Vol. 1

 ...  I am enjoying living close to home for the first time in my married life.  It was fun being away... and there are other parts of this country Matt and I consider home.  But there is nothing like being near family, especially when you have little ones.  I love the bond between the generations, and how it gives the boys confidence.  Love really works wonders.  I am so glad the home I came from is in no way broken, and pray daily for strength and wisdom that we can keep this family strong.  I read something last night... a poem about forming clay, and how the mistakes that are left once the clay hardens are stuck forever.  I know plenty of wonderful people who walked through hardship as children.  I don't think tragedy will keep you from being wonderful, but I do think it gets stuck on a child until his dying days.  If I could just impress upon these little ones now what it is to be good, and humble, and wise... I only hope that those will be the things they carry through this life with them.

 ... The Jedi {Jayden {Jay} and Titus {Ti}.} are going through what I assume is normal toddler angst. The competitive edge is exhausting. I know they love each other, but the amount of unhappiness we go through daily because "Bubba did it," is a bit out of proportion.

... Matt is becoming a regular gym fanatic.  If you know him, you are wearing the same baffled expression I am.  It is an incredible change that inspires me.  I love that he wants to eat healthy food, and his idea of togetherness is broader than piling on the couch in front of the television.  I love that I didn't nag him into this change.  By the way, change that happens because of nagging is never really that enjoyable, is it?

... I am consuming entirely too much iced coffee. It is the conflicted blessing of having a barista at a local coffee shop for a sister. She showers me with new flavors of coffee beans, and other such delicious samples. I believe a purge will be my goal for 2014. Or perhaps 2015...

... Matt and I finally had a date night.  It happens maybe twice a year, which I recognize is probably average for a lower-income family of four, two of them still being in pull-ups.  We went to see an eight p.m. showing of The Hobbit.  Matt, being a semi-popular jock/ musician back in the day that I was sporting taped-up glasses and an overflowing book bag, did not have much of an opinion while I was a little disappointed.  The book is always better, always.  But it was still an enjoyable time.