Pennies and Love Notes

Day #3 of the Love Your Spouse Challenge

In our basement is a giant Gatorade bottle -- classy, right?!  Whenever we find spare change, we throw it in the bottle for a future "couples vacation."  A nickle here.  A penny there. Sometimes quarters. Lots of dimes.  And when I do the laundry, and I find a dollar bill, it goes in the Gatorade bottle too. The coins -- on their own -- are of very little monetary value. But when combined, they add up to quite a lot.

The same can be said for the investments we make in our marriages. Acts of love don't have to be grand to mean something. A small gesture of kindness here.  A simple token there. A hug. A note of appreciation. A special meal. Sometimes they are something as simple as scrawling out a love note on the fridge with magnet letters. While those acts may seem small and insignificant on their own, much like pennies, they too add up to something a great -- a loving marriage.




 Each day, we are surrounded by potential "Penny Acts" in our relationships, but we must make the choice to act upon them, and in doing so, invest in our marriages.

Mexican Restaurants and Marriage

Day #2 of the Love Your Spouse Challenge

Every once in a while, he will mention it -- the night I stood him up on his 30th birthday. A teasing jab here. A soft smirk there. A light laugh.

It is true: I left him sitting alone and entirely confused in a dimly lit Mexican restaurant. And by the time, I realized he was there and alone, and had been for some time, it was too late. I felt terrible; between balloons and cake and guests, I had completely forgotten he had been waiting on me for the last 30 minutes. I sent him a quick text telling him there was a change of plans and to head home. But, the table for two he had secured, with a drink waiting for me, already had transformed into a table for one.

When he realized I wasn't going to show up, he didn't come straight home as I expected. He wouldn't answer my phone calls. Call after call went straight to voicemail.  I never asked where he went or what he did, but I imagined him doing a whole lot of driving and cursing my name.

The street lights had been on for hours by the time I heard his Mustang make its trek up the driveway. I tried to keep a smile on my face.   The food I had prepared was cold, the ballons deflating, and the guest growing leary about what was transpiring and if the "birthday boy" was going to actually make an appearance.

He walked into the room, and everyone yelled "surprise!" That, he definitely was.

Sometimes in marriage, our best intentions do not always go as planned.  Sometimes our well-meaning words get lost in translation. Sometimes we assume the worst of our spouse when it would be just as easy to give him or her the benefit of the doubt.

Luckily, he was quick to forgive me.

Later that night, I tried to gauge how mad he really was.  He told about how long he waited and how he had to explain to the waitress that I wasn't going to show after he had already placed an order.  "And you know what?" he asked me. "Do you know what she did? She told me to just go. Not to worry about paying for the drinks and the food. That she would take care of it all."

Empathy, grace and forgiveness are powerful things, in Mexican restaurants and in marriages.

Brent's 30th Birthday Surprise Party

Marriage Is Rebuilding a House

Day #1 of Love Your Spouse Challenge

We decided to move. We got the house -- a fixer upper. We drew out the floor plans each evening. We ripped out walls and floors and ceilings and who knows what else. We ate pizza sprawled out on the few parts of the floor we kept in tact. We swept up rusty nails and cleaned up broken glass and swept some more.

Hard at work rebuilding the house

And then, life threw other plans our way. And we didn't move. And the house and the clean up and the floor plans went to someone else. And we had to rebuild somewhere else, with different plans, and different dreams. But the only thing that didn't change was that we did it together.

Marriage is much like rebuilding a house:

It is full of moments that require you to be willing to tear things down, clean them up and put them back together again. Your walls must be torn down to let another in. Your past resentments must be washed away to move forward. Your pride must be swept aside. And then, together, you build your marriage -- brick by brick.

Every so often, you have to be willing to rebuild that house with your spouse.  You must accept that as the two of you change, your relationship will too. Plans will change. Dreams will change. Your looks will change -- unfortunately. Change is inevitable.

Rebuilding can be painstaking, back aching, headache inducing work.  It will make you ask yourself: Is THIS really worth all the exhaustion and frustration?  Are WE really worth it? You will question how anything so special could be so challenging.

But every once in awhile, you will catch a glimpse of what the the finished project will look like. A bit of sheet rock, some paint, some crown molding. A bit of laughter, some memories, a lot of love. And you realize that even though your marriage may look a mess right now, there is always potential and hope in the rebuilding process.

In the house we were rebuilding

{My friend Krista challenged me to post a pic of my husband and myself for 7 days tagging 2 people each day to keep the Celebration of Love going. Share your love. Share your story. ❤️}

#spreadthelove #realstories #marriedlife

Bright Spots

Not that long ago, my husband gave me his honest feedback about my blog. "It's good," he said -- followed by an unexpected and awkward pause.  "But, sometimes I feel like you really focus heavily on just the bright spots in your day. You don't often talk about how rough it is."

I took a deep breath to let his words sink in -- just the bright spots.

Am I being entirely honest and open about the dark places I've been to on this journey?  Am I making it all sound too easy, too perfect?  Is what I'm writing a fair and accurate depiction of what I'm living and of who I am?

I want it to be.  I think it has been.

But the last thing I want to do is give the impression that I have it all together, that I never fail, that I have no regrets -- that would be a lie.

Some days stink -- they super stink.  Some days stink so bad, that all I want to do is lock myself up in a room and hide.  This rarely happens because my kids could easily and successfully lead a search and rescue mission.  They always find me. Other days stink bad enough that I consume my worries and fears alongside a gallon of ice cream.  This happens more than I want to admit.  Yes, some days are downright, hands down stinky.

I agonize over my daughter's future.  I cry over IEP notices, and I sob when I see her broken down into percents on assessments.  I remind  myself that, "She's more than a number" -- over and over again. Yes, sometimes even numbers hurt the heart.

I compare my daughter to her typically developing peers.  I watch other kids run up the playground steps unassisted, and I let jealousy and disappointment run rampant.  I tell myself that, "She will do things when she is ready."  At night, I cry at the potential that she may never be "ready."

I question if I'm giving enough of myself.  I feel that I fail some days at helping her reach all of her therapy goals. Some mornings, I skip making her walk down the stairs herself -- because I'm tired, because my hands are full, because carrying her down the stairs will be easier.  I sometimes wish I was anywhere but on the floor at Target, next to my daughter, who is throwing an epic tantrum.  I want to run -- but I can't.  I feel guilt because sometimes, I'm too lazy, too exhausted, too self-centered.  I hate myself on those days.

I fear I'm giving too much.  My mind is numb from too many doctor's appointments and not enough rest.  My heart heavy from searching for a diagnosis and never finding one.  I have bruises and scratches and bite marks and a sore back -- a reminder of what I give daily.   I cry when she hits me.  Not because it hurts -- although it does -- but because there is nothing I can do to help her. And I feel helpless too.

And just when I feel like I'm about to drown in a misery that only comparison and worry and fear can bring, someone always steps in. My bright spots show up: Our amazingly loving and supportive PT and OT and my understanding and compassionate friends and family.   They give me the reality check that I so desperately need sometimes.  They lead me back to the "sunny side of the street." They make me laugh and smile.  They give me the boost of confidence that I need to get through whatever I am facing.  They help me refocus on what really matters, and they remind that:

There are no guarantees in life.

There are good moments in a bad minute.

Sometimes it's okay to take time to replenish myself.

Love is a lesson in sacrifice.

I've had my fair share of dark moments and despair on this journey, and in admitting this, I must acknowledge the people above, who have always been willing to share a little bit of their sunshine with me.

My husband wonders why my writings are filled with bright spots. And he's not entirely wrong.   It's just because it is hard to stay in the shade when I'm surrounded by so much sunshine.

Marriage Myths

Growing up, I used to imagine the kind of wife I would be.  I liked to imagine that I would be a delicate mix of June Cleaver and Carol Brady.  True, June Cleaver is the queen of needlepoint, cake decorating and cleaning in pearls, while I, on the other hand, cannot sew to save my life, would rather devour than decorate a cake, and wholeheartedly detest housework.  And yes, Carol Brady -- a housewife, sculptor, freelance writer and political activist, with a singing voice of an angel -- is tough competition, but I was prepared to rise to the occasion.

Our wedding day -- 2010

And then, the other morning, as I was in the middle of a very important search and rescue mission for a missing Barbie shoe while also trying to coerce my two-year-old to use the potty, my husband asked me if I had seen his keys.  To be honest, I was so caught up in trying to find Barbie's pink, rhinestone encrusted stiletto that I don't know if I ever even responded to him.  Even sadder, it took me till nap time to realize my lack of response.

In that moment, I didn't feel like June Cleaver or Carol Brady at all.  I felt more like a mix of Roseanne Barr with a side of Peg Bundy -- self-absorbed and undomesticated.  But that's  not who I am all of the time nor is it who I want be.  It's then when I realized a few things:  the world is full of marriage myths that the media perpetuates,  T.V. wives are liars, and I am never going to be the wife I wanted to be.

So, to my amazing, patient and loving husband, on our fifth wedding anniversary, while I will never be the June to your Ward nor the Carol to your Mike, this is the wife I will be:

Myth:  I will always be highly interested in your every hobby, pastime, television show, etc.
Truth: I will support your interests. Take golf for instance -- my mom made me take golf lessons growing up.  It's hot and slow and boring.  And to be honest, as a kid, I was just in it for the golf shoes, the cart ride and the tan.  Likewise, I can only watch WrestleMania 28 -- the return of The Rock -- so many times (two to be exact) before it becomes obnoxiously obvious that I have been faking any and all interest in wrestling. But I will happily ride along in the golf cart and cheer you on, because I love to see you happy.  And I will sit next to you on the couch, because I do get a kick out of hearing your commentary and watching your reactions -- especially to shows you have seen only 7583920 times.

Myth: I will never do anything wrong.
Truth: I will do some wrong in your eyes.  Like that one time when I poured hot candle wax down the kitchen sink or the time I set the garbage bag on fire while I was cooking dinner. Yep, I will probably do a lot of wrong.  I will probably round down all of my shopping expenses by ten dollars at least.  I will go over my data plan on my phone at least three months of the year.  And I will be forever thankful for your forgiving and loving heart.

Myth: I will agree with every decision you make.
Truth: I will respect the choices that you make.  While I may not agree with every one of your decisions, I promise that I will always be a constant source of support -- as long as you aren't deciding which bank to rob.  Otherwise, I will be your biggest fan.

Myth: I won't ever go to bed angry.
Truth: Some nights, I will have to agree to disagree with you.  In the earlier years of our marriage, not sleeping till every issue had been resolved may have been a reasonable request.  After all, I am all for resolving issues and starting fresh, but with two kids -- one of whom constantly keeps me on my toes -- I am tired.  Even though I may fall asleep mad, I will still love you.

Myth: I will spend my time ensuring that the house is clean, organic dinners are served, and my hair and face always done up.
Truth: I will spend my time teaching our children right from wrong, encouraging them to explore the beauty and goodness of our world, providing them with advice and guidance, and giving them my unconditional love.  With whatever time I have left, I will follow Peg Bundy's sage advice and pretend to be an awful cook so you have to take me out to dinner.

Our family -- 2013

Myth:  Having children will make our relationship stronger.
 Truth:  Having children will make us stronger individuals who are able to love more fully. Parenting is a constant lesson in self sacrifice, patience, reflection, and unconditional love.  If we take half of what we learn as parents and apply it to our marriage, our relationship will flourish.

Myth: I won't ever worry.
Truth: I will worry, and it is because I care. I will worry about your safety if you aren't home from work on time.  I will check on the girls multiple times at night to make sure they are still "there " and still breathing.  I care about you, about us, and about our family.  I care about your well-being, our happiness and the girls' health, so I worry. In fact, just thinking about not worrying makes me worry.  I know it's obnoxious, so I will do my best to limit my worrying to a mere five things a day.

Myth: I will be expect you to be perfect.
Truth: I will ask that you give your all in all you do -- including our marriage.  Your attempts may be flawed from time to time -- that's okay.  I will only ask that you put your best effort into us, and I promise that I will do the same.

Myth: Marriage will be easy because we love one another.
Truth: Marriage will hand us our fair share of bumps and bruises.  We will stumble and fall.   We will experience pain and fear and loss -- so great that it feels as if our hearts are trying to beat their way out of our chests.  Our love for one another will not protect us from heartbreak. Marriage will never be easy, but it will be easier because we have one another.  We will pick each other up when we fall.  We will wipe away one another's tears and help erase the other's fears.  We will be stronger because we experience life together.

Myth: I love you just as much today as I did when we first met.
Truth: I love you more.

Five Years Ago

Today