Needless to say I never got back to posting this yesterday. After my enlightening lunch events I spent the afternoon working on that extra long to-do list. Then we, Ken and I, took the dogs to the park, ate dinner, and watched a little TV. I had some little bit of work to do to prepare for a meeting today and then we hit the sack. Exciting, I know.
But never fear! Post two of two will finally get its fifteen minutes of fame.
About a week ago I was talking to my mom on the phone. She was giving me a recap of a seminar she had been to at church. As she was talking through the events, she came to a joke which went a little something like this:
A Diary Entry - The Same Day.
"A Woman's Diary: My husband was acting so strange today. I was out shopping all day with friends, and I think he was mad that I got home late. I asked him if he was mad at me and he said no. But he was being so distant and quiet. I thought maybe a nice dinner would help smooth things over. He agreed and we went but he barely said 5 words all night long. I asked him what was wrong and he said 'nothing'. The drive home was the same: just silence. I think he must not love me anymore. We went to bed and he fell right to sleep. I don't know what I've done wrong. I cried myself to sleep. I don't know what to do."
"A Man's Diary: Boat motor won't start. Can't figure out why."
By the time my mom finished the joke she could barely speak for laughing. Only at 25, and being married only a year I didn't really find it that funny. No. Actually I found it quite hopeless. She tried to explain why it was funny; clearly it applies to so many men and women that it is amusing. Clearly it's an indication that silence and brooding doesn't mean a man doesn't love his wife. Clearly.
At any rate, as this situation applies so broadly it can be no surprise to hear that it rung true for me as well. But that's not the fairy tale marriage I was going to have! What?!?! Never! My husband is going to be sensitive and caring and affectionate and in touch with his emotions. And he is going to be all of those things even if it kills me!
So fast forward to Tuesday night. As I said, I moped around ALL day, and so when 9:30 rolled around I decided I would straighten up the house a bit. As Ken must get up before the sun every morning, he announced he was going to bed. I was tidying up the dining room, and as I was putting some mail in the office I walked past the bedroom door and observed that Ken was not sleeping but playing games on his iPhone. So I climbed in the bed next to him to give him some grief about it being bedtime, and that saying "I'm going to bed" indicates sleep, not fun and games.
What I had intended to be a short teasing session turned into nearly 90 minutes of teasing, joking, innuendos, laughter, grammatical errors (which lead to more teasing and laughter), and just plain fun. At one point I was laughing so hard that I was literally crying, and even after several minutes and Ken repeatedly asking "Are you done?" I was still tickled by it.
Those 90 minutes restored my faith in my dream marriage. They indicated to me that the lines of communication don't have to be cut forever just because Ken is a man and I am a woman. Granted, he wasn't writing me lines of poetry or serenading me with love songs. It wasn't that kind of romance. But it was the kind of romance we had when we first met. And the kind that endured while we were dating. It was a 90 minute reminder of the things that I love about Ken and the things that made me fall in love with him in the first place. When life gets in the way of romance sometimes it is hard to remember those things. When silence becomes the majority of communication it can be hard to know if you're being heard, especially when you know that neither you nor your spouse is good at taking hints.
I try very hard not to give out relationship advice. First of all, I have no idea what I'm doing, so who am I to give advice. I'm just winging it one day at a time. Secondly, probably the wisest thing anyone ever said to me about relationships came from a barely 21 year-old newly married man. He said "You know, it doesn't matter what other people say about our relationship. We are the only ones in it, and we know that it's real." After pondering on that I realized that really, the best people to give relationship advice are the people inside the relationship. But today, I have to give in.
Take my advice. Cherish those moments when the world drops away, whenever they happen to sneak in. Think about them often, and instigate them whenever you can so at the end of the day both of your diaries can be about the same brief, smiling moments.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
One of Two
Today I feel compelled to write two posts. Technically I could fit everything in one, but I feel the subjects just don't mesh. They each need their own fifteen minutes of fame. And so here we are, post one of two.
I would like to thank God for reminding me today that destiny waits for no man, or in my case, woman. Over the last week my mild case of the common cold has completely demolished my self-motivation. Wallowing in my own pity for five days has finally caught up with me, and yesterday I couldn't even make myself take a shower. I just moped all day. And I do mean ALL day. I did not accomplish a single household chore, and dinner, while delicious, was a freezer -> oven -> plate ordeal into which I put roughly -2 effort.
Today I woke up feeling almost entirely back to normal. And yet still not at all motivated to put my home back in order. And lets face it, keeping an orderly home at this juncture is a very large part of my destiny. So today I've been consulting my bag of procrastination tools, and putting off cleaning as long as I could.
I use a system of index cards to track the chores that are on my to-do list for the day. It's a sort of living to-do list that rotates daily. It is a wonderful system that works remarkably well for me. It keeps my home looking like something from a Better Homes and Gardens photo shoot about 90% of the time. However, when I break the routine the cards can pile up quickly. My first procrastination was to take out all of the cards I've neglected since last Wednesday and lay them on the dining room table. Let me tell you, there are a lot. Seeing them laid out and staring at me in all of their unfinished glory did not inspire me to be productive. Actually, it just made me feel even more determined not to do anything. I managed to appease my guilt by folding one load of laundry (which is no feat since there are still 3 that are already washed and dried, and another two worth of dirty laundry that I've let pile up). Then I convinced myself I was feeling run down, and not to push myself too hard lest my weakened immune system take a turn for the worse. So I took a short break, and then tackled my next big feat, the sink full of dishes. After five minutes of laboriously loading the dishwasher I deemed I was ready for another break, and lunch.
To satisfy my craving for something rich and sweet I brewed myself up a pot of delicious chocolate hazelnut coffee. It's my new daily indulgence. I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar, so I went to the fridge to retrieve the all-important CoffeeMate. As I lifted the bottle from the fridge door I gave it the routine two quick shakes just to froth it up a bit and wouldn't you know, the cap was open. Not completely open, no, that would have been too obvious. It just wasn't clicked completely closed. Of course little drops of non-fat French Vanilla went everywhere. Inside the fridge, on the floor, down the mustard and salad dressing bottles. Everywhere.
With a sigh, a very loud somewhat annoyed sigh, I started cleaning up the mess. As I was debating whether I should clean up the mess on the floor or just call the dogs into the kitchen it dawned on me: this was not another mess to make me feel overwhelmed. This was just God, with His ever-changing sense of humor reminding me that procrastinating isn't just going to leave me with a messy house at the end of the day; it's going to keep my destiny from advancing one more step. The realization almost made me smile. Almost. I was at a smirk, and on my way to smiling when I bent down to paper-towel up the mess from the kitchen floor. Yeah, the situation there is not anything to smile about. Yuck!
As I finished mopping up the majority of the mess at the fridge, and then the mess that had dripped down the bottle and onto the countertop I realized that being at home, like any other job, is still work. There are days that I am so thankful to be at home and days that I think back on the corporate world and I rejoice that my destiny doesn't lead me there. But, there are still days when I think my boss is a jerk (which leads to some very interesting introspection) and days when I wish the weekend would just hurry up and arrive so I could take a break.
It's refreshing in a way, to have a day where doing nothing is not really an option. It reminds me not to take this life for granted. Not to get too relaxed and forget that living this destiny is a blessing, but being a blessing doesn't mean that it is effortless. So now, after stopping by to record this little epiphany I'm off to finish up my chores. If I can manage them before the husband gets home I'll be back for part two of two.
And part two of two is great! Trust me :)
I would like to thank God for reminding me today that destiny waits for no man, or in my case, woman. Over the last week my mild case of the common cold has completely demolished my self-motivation. Wallowing in my own pity for five days has finally caught up with me, and yesterday I couldn't even make myself take a shower. I just moped all day. And I do mean ALL day. I did not accomplish a single household chore, and dinner, while delicious, was a freezer -> oven -> plate ordeal into which I put roughly -2 effort.
Today I woke up feeling almost entirely back to normal. And yet still not at all motivated to put my home back in order. And lets face it, keeping an orderly home at this juncture is a very large part of my destiny. So today I've been consulting my bag of procrastination tools, and putting off cleaning as long as I could.
I use a system of index cards to track the chores that are on my to-do list for the day. It's a sort of living to-do list that rotates daily. It is a wonderful system that works remarkably well for me. It keeps my home looking like something from a Better Homes and Gardens photo shoot about 90% of the time. However, when I break the routine the cards can pile up quickly. My first procrastination was to take out all of the cards I've neglected since last Wednesday and lay them on the dining room table. Let me tell you, there are a lot. Seeing them laid out and staring at me in all of their unfinished glory did not inspire me to be productive. Actually, it just made me feel even more determined not to do anything. I managed to appease my guilt by folding one load of laundry (which is no feat since there are still 3 that are already washed and dried, and another two worth of dirty laundry that I've let pile up). Then I convinced myself I was feeling run down, and not to push myself too hard lest my weakened immune system take a turn for the worse. So I took a short break, and then tackled my next big feat, the sink full of dishes. After five minutes of laboriously loading the dishwasher I deemed I was ready for another break, and lunch.
To satisfy my craving for something rich and sweet I brewed myself up a pot of delicious chocolate hazelnut coffee. It's my new daily indulgence. I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar, so I went to the fridge to retrieve the all-important CoffeeMate. As I lifted the bottle from the fridge door I gave it the routine two quick shakes just to froth it up a bit and wouldn't you know, the cap was open. Not completely open, no, that would have been too obvious. It just wasn't clicked completely closed. Of course little drops of non-fat French Vanilla went everywhere. Inside the fridge, on the floor, down the mustard and salad dressing bottles. Everywhere.
With a sigh, a very loud somewhat annoyed sigh, I started cleaning up the mess. As I was debating whether I should clean up the mess on the floor or just call the dogs into the kitchen it dawned on me: this was not another mess to make me feel overwhelmed. This was just God, with His ever-changing sense of humor reminding me that procrastinating isn't just going to leave me with a messy house at the end of the day; it's going to keep my destiny from advancing one more step. The realization almost made me smile. Almost. I was at a smirk, and on my way to smiling when I bent down to paper-towel up the mess from the kitchen floor. Yeah, the situation there is not anything to smile about. Yuck!
As I finished mopping up the majority of the mess at the fridge, and then the mess that had dripped down the bottle and onto the countertop I realized that being at home, like any other job, is still work. There are days that I am so thankful to be at home and days that I think back on the corporate world and I rejoice that my destiny doesn't lead me there. But, there are still days when I think my boss is a jerk (which leads to some very interesting introspection) and days when I wish the weekend would just hurry up and arrive so I could take a break.
It's refreshing in a way, to have a day where doing nothing is not really an option. It reminds me not to take this life for granted. Not to get too relaxed and forget that living this destiny is a blessing, but being a blessing doesn't mean that it is effortless. So now, after stopping by to record this little epiphany I'm off to finish up my chores. If I can manage them before the husband gets home I'll be back for part two of two.
And part two of two is great! Trust me :)
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