Flight of the Conchords!

This video has had Justin and I cracking up for nearly two months.  I figured it was time to finally figure out how to post video here…  Enjoy!  (DISCLAIMER: If you’re not okay with PG-13-ish level humor, skip this).

Business Time

happy Saturday…

Ah.  So glad to have that whole apartment thing nailed down.  I’ve been a little saner ever since.

We’ll be moving September 12th.  Our lease was originally up on the 10th, but the apartment is getting some new carpet/flooring put in and won’t be ready for another couple of days.  Thankfully our landlord was willing to work with us.  (Which he should.  We’ve been good to his place).

I was a little worried about moving into a place with loud neighbors because that was my last experience in apartments… I’ve gotten spoiled not having to share walls with other people for the last two years, between the LBH and the LGH.  Judging by the number of flower pots out on people’s decks near our unit, I think we’re in the old people section.  Which is fine by me.  Old people don’t keep me up until 3 am on a work night. 

I think the coolest thing is that our apartment is a third floor corner unit that overlooks this huge pond/wooded area behind.  Very quiet except for birds and croaky things.  You don’t even see any other apartments out of our windows.  That, and we have french doors that open up from the master bedroom onto our balcony (which, of course, overlooks the pond).  I think that’s pretty sweet!

Justin and I headed out on a date last night – you can tell it was a date because he wore a button up shirt.    Just kidding.  We ate at Anthony’s, a seafood restaurant down on the waterfront, and got to walk around near the water until our table was ready.  It was perfect temp out — not too warm, not too cool, and just pretty.  And we saw bunny rabbits.  Then we went to the movies and saw Stardust.

Seriously, this movie was so fun!  Favorite movie I’ve seen in a long time.  It was so nice to go to the movies, enjoy a good story, laugh a bunch, and not leave disappointed.  Go see it.

Kevin and Hanna are headed up for a visit today, so there is probably a great deal of Munchkin and Pirate’s Cove to play.  Should be a good weekend!

Hope you all enjoy yours as well!

we found a place!

And are moving the 12th of September.

More later, we sleepy.

cat pee, etc.

The apartments I was so excited to visit once Justin got off work were… stinky.  Like years of cigarette smoke and cat pee and rotting garbage all rolled into one heady, stuffy, nasty scent.

And they had a fruit fly problem in the kitchen.

Off to a few more (hopefully more promising) places tomorrow.

Sigh.

takin’ it easy…

Good morning, all.

I am sick today, as I’ve been all weekend, so I’m home, alternating between sleep and online scrabble.  (This is an improvement over alternating between sleeping in bed and sleeping on the couch for the last two days).  So much for apartment hunting over the weekend.  If I’m feeling better, we’re going to visit a few places tonight, so keep your fingers crossed for us!

Did you know you can play scrabble online?  It’s amazing.  Justin and I were planning on purchasing one of those super-high-tech boards with all the bells and whistles (translation: you can spin the board around when it comes to your turn), and, although we’ll probably invest in one at some point, we’re enjoying this new online adventure.  It’s a nice break from poker. 

Anyway, Scrabulous.com.  You heard it here first.

Now, if I can just find a good place to download The Oregon Trail, so I can relive the glory days of being “that kid,” the loner who stays in at recess to play computer games…

Oh my goodness.  I just realized that I’m probably just as nerdy as my husband.

This is troubling.

Anyway, have a great day, everyone.

Also, there’s a shiny new “Email me” link up to your left.  A poor soul had to go through Flickr to reach me, so I thought I should fix the situation. 

fifty years and retirement

In the sleepy, silent, still-dark of this morning, I woke.  As I often do when I wake up this early, I break my own rule.  I untangle myself from the sheet, inch my way over from My Side of the Bed and find a comfy spot on Justin’s chest to lay my head.  He’s usually still half asleep when this happens, but his arms always pull me in tight by way of welcome.  I can’t sleep like this — my always-too-warm body will never successfully nod off — but some mornings I just need the closeness more than I do the sleep.

I still marvel that, in over nine months of nights, I’ve never slept alone.

This morning, a very clear thought entered my drowsy little mind: “None of this is guaranteed.” 

You know, I’m better than I used to be.  This is a little hard to admit (although I suspect I’m not alone in this newlywed tendency), but when we were first married, I could hardly bear to let Justin out of my sight.  It was difficult to let him drive to the store down the street without me, for fear that something might happen to shatter our charmed existence.  I’d say I didn’t want to go, but over and over again, at the last minute, I’d throw on some shoes and jump in the car to drive the three blocks with him to Albertsons. 

All of a sudden my heart was walking around outside my body.  And I was very, very conscious of it.

Am very, very conscious of it.  

*****

Less than a year after I left Bible college, I attended the funeral of someone I’d known more of than had actually known personally.  He was super-involved in campus life (famous for some of his hilarious stunts), and was a friend of several of my friends when I attended Northwest.  When his memorial service was set at a church less than twenty minutes from my home, I decided to go.

I have been to many memorial services.  Even as a life is celebrated, still — the loss breaks me every time.  This one was especially hard, in a very unique way.  Paul had married his sweetheart only about a month before he died in a freak accident (the basic gist was that he was scoping out camping spots for his youth group, got out of his car to look, and his car slipped out of gear and pinned him underneath).  His wife seemed as strong as she was broken at the service – they played her recorded words at the memorial, and as she honored her husband and shared her heart with us, I was amazed.  They also told lots of funny Paul stories, played a video of one of his most out-there sermons.  It was so strange to be laughing as much as we were crying. 

But I’ve never forgotten how small she looked in the front pew.  I’ve often wondered about her since, have said prayers for this girl I didn’t know.  And I’ve often remembered, because of her, that none of us are promised fifty years and retirement together.

*****

“None of this is guaranteed.”

As he slept, I prayed this morning in the darkness.  I’m not good at praying, but this one, I’ve gotten good at.  I asked God to keep Justin safe and protect him as he goes about his day.  I asked him to bring us both back together once our day’s work is done.  I ask him often to give us many more days and nights and months and years together. 

I’m not afraid to ask God for fifty years and retirement.  (I think all of us ask God for it, whether we form the words or not).

I also ask God for the strength to still trust him and serve him if, someday, that prayer isn’t answered the way I hoped it would be.

Most of all, I ask God for the grace to love Justin as much as I can today, on purpose.  I’m expecting a lot more days, of course, but I’m also squeezing as much laughter and hand-holding and heart-filled words as I can out of the one day I know I’ve got.  Hoping for the best, but not taking it for granted as a sure-thing.  It’s the only way I know of to let my heart walk around outside my body and still know some peace.

It’s also the best way I know of to spend fifty years or so.

four posts in four days… can it be so?

Hi kids!

You’ll notice that to the left of your screen, you’ll see a shiny new goodreads link.  (Thank you Cecelia, for opening my eyes to one more great use of the internet).  A list of a bunch of the books I’ve read, books I’m currently reading, books on my to-read list (see also: books I couldn’t walk out of the used bookstore without purchasing).

I lost an hour this morning listing a bunch of my books, and then I discovered that you can enter the date you first read it!  Circa 2002, I began writing the date in my books along with my name, so I basically tore apart my bookshelf this morning, writing down the dates in my book journal.  I lost at least another hour there, though it was well worth it.

I think it’s clear at this point that I have no life.  That, and I’m an incurable nerd.  Having married an incurable nerd, I am at peace with this.

If you are also a nerd and/or book glutton, you can be my pal on goodreads, and I’ll see what you’re reading when, what you thought of it, etc.  I’m all for avoiding crap books, and finding good ones, so this could prove helpful to me.

Alright, off to grab some food items before work.  Have a good day, all. 

I leave you with a few new favorite t-shirts I found online at threadless.com and bustedtees.com:

daily bread, etc.

Ooh, boy, am I groggy.

To make sure I never get into a regular sleep pattern, my job switches me from a week of 5:30 or 6 am – noon shifts to a week of 2 pm -7:30 shifts.  Ack.  This is my afternoons week.  I always sleep too late and accomplish nothing at all til my shift starts.

I guess I should enjoy it while I can.  Soon, things are going to look quite different.

Right now I’m in that annoying place where you know a whole bunch of change is right around the corner, but you can’t do a thing about it at present.  I know we’ll be moving in approximately three weeks.  Can’t pack yet.  I know we need to find an apartment.  Can’t look in earnest until Saturday.  Our car is on its last legs, but we won’t be ready to get a new(er) one til September, so we’re hoping she lasts.  School starts at the end of September, and apart from the “oh-crap-I-haven’t-done-this-in-four-years-what-was-I-thinking” type of thoughts, there are very real scheduling concerns.  It’s a possibility that if things don’t fall into place just so, J and I will have fully opposite schedules where he leaves for work at 5 am and I don’t get home from my job until 8:30 pm, taking our classes at Western at different times, etc.  I’m not a fan of this arrangement.

I know that in all honesty, most likely things will work out just fine, with little adjustments here and there.  But still, it seems I’d rather worry than trust.  I like to have all the details nailed down, and when I can’t secure them, I feel all out of sorts and get overwhelmed easily.

I was talking with a girl at work last week about training into that new position at work.  She dragged her heels big-time at having to stick people in the arm, and really had to be pushed to take on the new role.  I asked her whether she liked it now (she does).  But she said she really prayed about it hard.  She prayed that God would steady her hands, that he would help her remember what to do.  A few months later, she looks like a pro out there.

It was just an off-hand comment made by someone who is much better than I am at speaking of God openly.  (She’s also much better than most at being sincere when she says it).  But her words stuck with me.  I wrote her a little note and thanked her for reminding me that God even cares about little things like us learning to put a needle in the right vein.

*****

In letting go of “youth group” faith, I let go of a lot of the emotionalism, much of the spiritual superstition that I had long believed was part of being an “on-fire Christian.”  (I chuckle to myself here at my keyboard as I wonder what this sounds like to an outsider.  What a poor choice of words.  An on-fire Christian is a horrific thought.  Stop, drop and roll, etc.). 

Faith has become much simpler, and much more complicated at the same time.  I don’t miss thinking that if I could just get things a little more together, God would be more happy with me.  I don’t miss looking for all these mysterious signs that I was doing God’s will for me, forever fearing that I might not be.  I don’t miss being in The Club, saying all the right spiritual words and having all the expected things to say right there in my pocket.  I don’t miss trying to please everybody with a spiritual title, thinking that somehow that was pleasing to God. 

I do, however, miss the constant (even if sometimes misdirected) awareness of God that came from having so many of my activities centered around “church stuff.”  I miss having him on my heart, praying in the car for opportunities to show grace that day.  I miss turning to him first when I have a need, rather than simply worrying for weeks at a time until I remember God, until I finally think to pray.  (Most of the time, it’s Justin who prays first, which always humbles me).

Letting new faith grow where the ashes of my youth group faith still lie and smolder– that has not been easy.  I don’t want to go back to the Christian I used to be, but I’ve been hesitant and scared to do the hard work of figuring out how, exactly, to follow Christ in the here and now.  It’s been… awkward.  Halting at best.  Immobile at worst.  I’ve never felt less good at being a Christian.

I don’t know exactly what to do with that, but there.  At least I’ve said it.

*****

Give us this day our daily bread.  Today I remind myself that God knows my heart.  He knows my needs, he sees beyond today’s concerns, and he is incredibly faithful.  I remind myself that he actually cares about little things like finding a good place to live and having time together to play and rest.  Even though the words feel painfully awkward, I pray for help.  I pray for guidance.  I pray to be a blessing.

Regarding our little family, he cared enough to bring the two of us together — I’m sure he’s not going to leave us on our own now.  He will provide what we need when we need it (and, I remind myself, he gets to decide).

If I can keep this in mind all day today (or even five minutes into my shift), it will be a miracle.  But I’m going to try for at least 51%.

what a man wants, what a man needs…

Okay, so here’s what was meant to happen on that last post.

Justin and I were fairly busy last week — he was finishing up his last week of training at the call center, and I am training into a new position at work.  “Phlebotomist: [fluh-bot-uh-mist] -noun. 1. a specialist in phlebotomy. 2. a nurse or other health worker trained in drawing venous blood for testing or donation.”  I had never heard this word before I went to work at the plasma donation center.  And now I’m going to be poking people in the arm.  Scary.  People really like it when I tell them I’m an English major.  Makes them feel safe, somehow, like they’re in truly proficient hands.

Anyway, we took it real easy yesterday and had some great conversations throughout the day.

One thing we’ve done ever since we’ve been married is that we do little checks on what our pre-marital counseling literature called “The Love Tank.”  Basically it’s just a little way to check in with each other and make sure we’re both feeling loved and nurtured, that things going on inside the other person are okay.  Sometimes we have a rough day and need to take some time to refill some of what that conflict consumed — to reassure each other, to be tender.  Sometimes even a force outside the marriage can take its toll — a bad day or week at work, conflict in another relationship, etc. — but it’s still good to know if you’re partner is feeling down or depleted, because then you can make an even stronger effort to bolster them up.

I know.  It’s a little silly.  We laughed too.  But we use it more often than not as a way to open up the conversation.

We were having the Love Tank talk last night, and after a day of slowing down and curling up together, we were doing great, but I asked Justin if there were any things that I could do differently, things that he wished looked different in our marriage.

This, and I don’t misquote him in the slightest, was his response: “No, not really.  I mean, you watch entire football games with me now, and you’re even doing a fantasy football team this year, which is above and beyond and not even what I expected from you.  No, we’re good.”

WHAT?

Seriously, if I could change one thing about myself, it’s that I respond emotionally when first presented with difficult information.  Translation for the layperson: I get a little pissed off about stupid things and it takes me a moment to return to being what J calls “a reasonable human being.”  I was assuming this would be the area of growth he would want from me.

Nope.  I can keep my brief outbursts of feisty.  If I’m watching football with him once a week, we’re good.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  I laughed hard for a few minutes and had to regain my breath before we resumed our conversation.

If ever I needed a more perfect picture of my sometimes-cluelessness as to what Justin wants and needs from me, I couldn’t do better than this.

Who knew that the secret to happiness in marriage was to watch the NFL?

Okay.  In no particular order, here’s my little list of some of the things I’ve learned/am learning to be for my husband.  I write it as much as a reminder for myself as I write it for the five people who may or may not stop by today.

Buddy

People have laughed at the fact that Justin’s favorite pet name for me is Buddy, but it’s the truth.  He needs a playmate in me.  This means sharing time together, but it also means sharing interests.  You should see the look on this kid’s face when he catches me reading football news on the net.  He brags at work that his wife is doing a fantasy football league with him.  When I remember the name of a coach or a person’s position or what is going on with a particular player (Michael Vick has been a gold mine for me), it is like screaming a big huge “I LOVE YOU!!!” to him.  This blows my mind, but it’s true. 

When I really think about it, it shouldn’t be surprising.  Justin and his dad used to watch football together when he was little, and his dad passed away several years ago.  He and his closest friends have been in a league together for over seven years, and never stay in such good contact with each other as much as during football season.  Each year, their draft is a big deal and they almost all make the trip out to see each other. 

Simply put, this is something sacred.  I would never have developed an interest or understanding of football on my own, but by making this sacred for me too, I’ve allowed something my husband loves to be something we share together.  There’s a limit, of course – I’m usually only good for one full game in a given day – but by welcoming football rather than treating it as competition for Justin’s time, I win.  I’ve actually grown to like it quite a bit since I understand the game more, and by taking an active interest in the game, I’ve told Justin that what’s important to him is important to me.  That, and I get to sit with Justin when a bunch of us watch the game, rather than having to hang out in the other room with all the girls, talking about scrapbooking or puppies or some such nonsense.

This principle applies when it comes to playing Texas Hold’em online together, visiting his friends, watching movies together, etc.  (And in return, he’s not afraid to play some Scrabble or watch a little Pride and Prejudice with me, either.)  The point is, when we’re not at work, 99% of the time, we’re playing somewhere together.  Or, occasionally, doing something useful around the house.  But mostly just playing together, cracking slightly inappropriate jokes, laughing.

Lover

No worries, I’m not going to get graphic here.  But I would be remiss if this wasn’t on the list somewhere near the top!  This is a topic I’m fairly passionate about, because I know this is an area wives tend to screw up a lot.  Husbands do too, but they’re known for it, and it’s allowed us women to sneak under the radar without being called on our baloney.

Here’s the deal.  Somewhere in Justin’s vows, between promising to help me keep track of my glasses and keys, and loving me fiercely all the days of his life, Justin promised to be loyal to me.  He promised to be faithful.  What no one ever says out loud, but what I thankfully knew when I signed up for this is — his promise means I have a big responsibility.  He promised to meet his needs physically with me only.  All the other needs — emotionally, relationally, recreationally — although I’m meant to be a large part of meeting them, other people play into them as well.  But this one area, that’s the need only I can meet.  The brutal truth is, if I don’t meet that need, it doesn’t get met.  That’s a huge responsibility on my part.  That’s a huge amount of trust on his part. 

Wives usually are all about meeting their man’s needs emotionally and relationally, but what they don’t always realize is that, if their husband’s needs are not being met physically, there will be damage emotionally and relationally.  It makes me sad to hear of men who are made to feel guilty for needs that are legitimate and healthy, when they are trying to meet them in a healthy and legitimate way – with their wives.  It frustrates me to hear men degraded as sex-fiends just as much as it pains me to hear women put down as needy and over-emotional.  It’s stupid and cruel, to put someone down for their needs rather than being concerned and intentional about meeting them as much as you can.

I hear stories.  I never want it to be Justin’s story.  Or mine, for that matter.  For this reason, this topic is not off-limits when we’re checking up on the state of our marriage.  And for this reason, I decided that when I married him, I was committed to not only taking on this need, but to doing my best to bless him in it.

So, we’re figuring out what works.  For us, that means we compromise and are really gracious with each other.  In wanting to meet his needs, I’ve made the choice to cheerfully show up for Team Lawlis even if sex wasn’t top of my list at that given moment.  (Justin is realistic and doesn’t have skyrocketing expectations when this is the case).  Recognizing my need for 8-9 hours of rest, when I’m super sleepy and the kitchen’s closed, he’s totally okay.  When timing and desire aligns, we make the most of it.    Good times.

(Hopefully I did okay there… I know this is a hard topic to talk about).

Partner

Not boss.  Not manager.  Partner.

This one is pretty simple in principle, although it gave me fits in the beginning.

–If I want help from Justin, I ask for it.  I don’t nag him, although I do ask him to write it down if he’s been busy and it’s been forgotten a few times.  I don’t assume he knows what I want from him when it comes to helping out around the house.  I simply ask or leave a note, and most of the time, he jumps right on it.  It is SO nice. 

–When he takes something on, I don’t go behind him and tell him the few spots that he missed.  I hate when people do that to me, so I try my best to avoid it, although I’m sure I’ve been critical before.  It may not be exactly as clean as if I’d done it, but it’s still cleaner than it was, and that’s something to celebrate.

–I take into account that he does things that I don’t do.  He mows the lawn, he takes out the trash, he works on our piece-of-crap cars.  Sometimes I mow the lawn so he doesn’t have to.  (The cars, he’s still stuck with).  But I realize that there will be things I’ll need to cover so he has time to do that outside manly stuff that he’s so good at taking care of.

–Most of all, I let him know that I notice he folded that load of laundry, or that he did the dishes before I got home from work.  (In fact, if I forget to say something, he asks about it to make sure I know he thought of me while I was gone: “Did you see that I got the dishes done for you?”  It’s adorable).  Every man wants to know he’s appreciated, that the things that he does matter.  I’m sure there’s things he’d rather do than vacuum the living room right before company arrives.  But every time, he’s there.

Cheerleader

This one is probably my favorite one.

Justin is not impersonal.  He’s always making people laugh, always saying some off-the-wall random thing that people weren’t expecting.  Alternately, he’s always wearing some off-the-wall random shirt that people weren’t expecting.  He plays well with others, is confident.  Is quick to make friends, or at least to make acquaintances who consider themselves friends.

I get to be a part of that world, and I really enjoy it.  I never laugh so much as when I’m hanging out with J.

But there’s another side of Justin that the world “out there” isn’t a part of.  A vulnerable side that only a few see, and that I see most of all.  I get to be there when he’s having a rough day.  I get to be there when he’s feeling discouraged or worried.  I get to be there when he’s having trouble sleeping or when a nightmare has intruded on his dreams.  I get to be the one to say, “You’re doing great.”  “Way to go, babe!”  ”Things will be okay.”  “I’m really proud of you.”  “Set your mind at ease.”  “Will a back scratch help?”

I get to be the one to see the look on his face when I slow down and tell him how much I love him.  And why.

Other than being a Buddy, this is my favorite part of being a wife.  Just as his words mean the world to me, mine have tremendous power with him, and it’s fun watching how much happiness they bring him when I just take the time to say ‘em out loud.  I seriously had no idea how much of an effect they would have. 

My words of praise probably mean the most.  I’m learning to be liberal with them, to catch him doing things right.  It’s not real hard.  :)

*****

These are pretty “duh” offerings, I know.  No rocket science here.  But these are the things I’m learning as a newbie wife.

These are the ways I’m keeping my vows the best that I know how.

Justin,

I am so happy to be standing here with you today.  You are more than I even knew to ask God for — the answer to countless prayers.  I hope you know, not only here in this moment, but always, what a joy you are to me.  I love you and I choose you today with my whole heart.  I’ll always choose you.

I promise to be your buddy, your lover and your companion all the days of my life.  In the big moments as well as small, uneventful ones, I promise to be by your side.  When you’re cracking jokes and goofing off, I’ll be the one laughing a little too loudly at all your craziness.  When you’re watching movies, I’ll be the one curled up beside you on the couch, trying to garner just a few more movie quotes.  Whether your football team is winning or losing, I promise to cheer along with you… at least, on most Sundays.  On all those trips to Starbucks, I’ll gladly ride shotgun.

I promise to cheer for you relentlessly and to cherish your dreams as if they were mine.  When you succeed and those around you applaud, I’ll be the one cheering loudest, a huge proud grin on my face.  In seasons of struggle, I will believe in you — sometimes enough for both of us.  I’ll always be there to listen and offer words and arms of comfort.  When you fail, even when you let me down, I promise to choose to see the best in you.  In moments when circumstances bring out the less-than-lovely in us, I promise to be quick to say I’m sorry and quick to forgive.  I will always be truthful with you.

No matter what comes our way, I promise I will fight for you, and will fight for these promises we’ve made.  I will be faithful to you not only in body, but in my heart and mind as well.  What’s ours is sacred and I will guard it as the precious thing it is.

Justin, I love you.  I’ll love you my whole life.  Thank you for loving me and making my life so sweet.

(In case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t make it through these vows without crying.  I am a wimp).   

new job descriptions

Funny story:  Friday afternoon I attended Justin’s graduation from his two-month training at the call center where he works.  Justin has a ton of call center experience, but this was his first-ever graduation.  No kidding, they had baseball caps with the graduation cap squares on top, and everyone walked up to get their certificate of completion, the whole deal.  I was a bit sheepish — it felt a little like attending someone’s graduation from junior high school, but I wanted to have a mental picture of where Justin spends his workday and am not usually one to turn down extra time with him, so I went.

While sitting at one of the tables, Justin was being his characteristic funny, sarcastic self.  One of the girls said, “So, he’s always like this, then?”  I smiled and said, “Yep.”  Another piped in, “How do you handle him?”  I thought for a second, smiled even bigger, and quickly replied, “I laugh a lot.”  I meant it.

I like the thought that Justin is his same self when I’m around, that there’s not this pressure to be on “best-behavior” when I show up.  I like it even more that this is somewhat shocking to people.  A person being themselves!  And loved all the more for it!

I know guys who have this “best-behavior” mentality, in some respects.  They reserve the moments of being themselves for Guys’ Night Out, or for golf outings, or for poker night.  They have no problem with swearing, but won’t swear around their wives because they find it distasteful when those same words come out of the little missus’ mouth.  They like sarcasm, but don’t like when she picks up on it and her joking sometimes bites him a little more harshly than he expected.  They feel constricted by their new responsibilities, weighed down, but would rather talk about it with the guys than with their wife.

I know that all relationships work differently, but the thought of being in this situation makes me sad, for both people involved.  From my perspective, home should be where you are MOST yourself.  Your marriage should be the one relationship where you use the fewest filters possible, where you share the biggest and sometimes most ridiculous fears.  I’m all for guys’ nights (and girls’ nights) and poker tourneys, but I enjoy knowing that  Justin’s real self doesn’t need those occasions to bust on out.  (And I secretly like that he often doesn’t want to go play poker unless I can come, too, even though I still push him to go). 

I married my husband because I like him when he’s being himself.  

*****

That said, there were still some adjustments that I had to make, both before we got married, and this past nine months.  Some of them, I knew were part of the deal.  Others, well, they surprised me a little quite a bit.  

What follows was my first big shift from “me” to “we.”  I had intended to write a little list, and at one point there really was a link to the story I shared above, but then this story came out instead.  It’s painful, but a good’un.  What’s the saying?  Thank God we’re not what we used to be… thank God this ain’t all we’re ever gonna be. 

*****

Just before we got married, my mother-in-law Karin gave me a little present, and I thought it was pretty appropriate, given her relationship to my beloved: a book entitled The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands… by Dr. Laura Schlessinger.  Truthfully, I hadn’t read any of her stuff before, but knowing of Dr. Laura as a Conservative with a capital-C, I was a little skeptical, although I thought it was sweet that Karin had given me the book.  I’m not saying my prejudices were correct, I’m just being honest that I put the book in the “To Read Later… Probably Much Later” pile.

About three months after we were married I busted the book out while waiting for Justin to get done with a very long dental appointment.  I settled into a chair at the Starbucks across the street and began reading.  If you’ve ever heard Dr. Laura on the radio, you know it’s an understatement to say that she’s not real touchy-feely — but I teared up about halfway through the first chapter.  She wrote about how women tend to think of their needs as more important, and tend to downplay — even sometimes outright disrespect and degrade — their man’s needs.  I read for another half hour, stopped, bought a card, and started writing to Justin.

I’m a “card” person — Justin has a menagerie of cards and letters in his nightstand — but this is the one card he read three times before putting down, the one that kept him silent a moment before he spoke, the one he said really meant a lot to him, with wavery voice.

The thing is, while we still really enjoyed our first few months of being married and while most days were pretty peaceful, I wasn’t exactly a pro at being a wife (of course, NOW, I have it ALL figured out.  Just kidding).  That, and thanks to our little friend The Pill, I was slightly really emotional.  (This was really hard for me — I’d never been one of those girls who was forever using PMS as an excuse to go on a bitch rampage — but those first few months adjusting were truly awful). 

I got frustrated easily.  I nit-picked about the housework.  Rather than asking for help (a request that would have been honored pretty much immediately), I would turn myself into Housework Martyr, banging dishes and pots and pans rather loudly as I washed them, then declining his help when he’d immediately jump up from the computer and offer it.  In my tiny brain, it was too late.  He hadn’t read my mind and anticipated that I wanted the dishes done.  His game was more important.  And so on and so forth.  Bitter, party of one…

(I know.  I sound like a horrible person.  But find me a new bride who hasn’t pulled something like this one at some point or another, and I’ll pay you money). 

As I sat there in Starbucks, thinking, I realized we only watched the movies I picked.  This is a small thing (except that Justin is HUGE into movies), but as I continued to think about other situations, us often doing what I wanted to do — I realized I still had way too much me in my marriage.  I still thought of me first.  Always.  It wasn’t that didn’t really love Justin, that I never considered Justin’s needs, it’s just that I wasn’t considering him first.  As the girl, I was a bit too much in princess mode.  If you know me, you know how much I hate admitting that.  But it was the truth.

On our wedding day, Dan gave us new job descriptions as he led us through our vows.  He said Justin’s job to wake up each morning and ask, “How can I serve my bride today?”  Mine was to ask myself how I could serve my husband. 

I realized that my husband was way better at his job description than I was at mine.  And he wasn’t getting very much credit for it.  I was deeply shamed to think that if Justin responded as harshly as I did sometimes to a misunderstanding or a misstep, I would be heartbroken.  My sensitivity was still often only for myself.  When my needs weren’t met, I was hurt and angry; I was far too busy thinking about that to think about what Justin needed from me. 

I wrote Justin from my heart and let him know that I see all the ways that he serves me.  I named them, one by one.  I made sure he knows that I notice and that he’s appreciated.  I let him know that he’s been far better at his job description than I had been at mine, but that I was going to be better.  I thanked him for being patient with me, and for loving me despite the fact that I didn’t have this all figured out yet.  Justin had told me only the night before that he still had a lot to learn as a husband, but I confessed that it was me who had far more to learn.  I said that I wanted to deserve how much he spoils me. 

It was a long letter, and hard to write.  To realize that you sometimes grieve the one you love most in the world, and that they continue loving you and serving you even when you’re too self-centered to see it — that’s humbling.  Justin never complained.  Not once.  And thinking about that now, I still get that ache that I sometimes get right down in my sternum when something really nails me right in the heart.

An elderly man stopped as he was passing my table and asked me what I was doing, writing so furiously in this card.  I said, “I’m writing my husband.  We’re newly married and I realized that I don’t let him know often enough how much I appreciate him, so I’m trying to do that now.”  I was a little choked up, and my eyes were a little more shiny than I wanted to show this stranger.  The man grinned at me, real big, told me congratulations and that he’s a lucky guy, and squeezed my shoulder gently as he left.

One of the things Dr. Laura wrote that stuck with me (man, that’s so not something I ever throught would come out of my mouth!) was this:  A good man is hard to find.  He’s not hard to keep.  Meaning, essentially, that once you’ve found that good man, the things you need to do to keep him happy are fairly basic, if a woman is willing to put some effort into them.  There was story after story in this book of men, good men, loyal men, who were simply beat down and neglected by their wives to the point that it’s not super surprising that they withdrew and became silent roommates rather than husbands and friends.  It broke my heart.  I never felt like I needed to worry about Justin going anywhere — he’s one of the most loyal and honest beings on the planet.  But making sure that he’s happy — that his needs as a person are met — that has become one of my main concerns as his wife, his friend.  I never want his sweet heart to feel taken for granted.

I’m obviously not perfect at it, and Justin’s learning too, but there’s a lot of grace in this home, and we celebrate when we get it right.  I’m just really grateful that I got smacked upside the head early on by this book, and was able shift direction quickly.  I know our marriage has been better for it — it’s not super hard to enjoy your marriage when you’re both serving each other and meeting the other’s needs, all the while feeling like you got the better end of the stick. 

And the moments when that doesn’t happen quite right — well, love covers those too.