Marriage - A Decade of Learning

 Let's be real...marriage is WORK. Nearly 10 years into what we hope to be a lifetime is just the tip of the iceberg in the "work" department of our love story. And though things will never be perfect, I am thankful for how we've perfected our marriage to work for us - not a fictional romance, not with the comparison of others in mind, just those simple day to day things that simply work. Because in reality, we've learned that's all there is to it. 

I'll never forget when we started therapy together. I told our therapist that the things I had to "complain" about were so minuscule: wanting help with chores, wanting a thoughtful foot rub, wanting him to be more present...and, I'd address them less often than more, simply because I didn't want to be "that wife" who nagged. It wasn't until our therapist helped me realize that those things weren't minor at all, they were the thread and needle to our marriage quilt; it's exactly those little things that add up to give you a solid relationship - and a metaphorically cozy blanket. 

My most memorable relationship quotes come from two of my favorite chick-flick movies. The first comes from The Break Up, when Jennifer Aniston's character explains to her boyfriend that she wants him to WANT to do the dishes. Naturally he thinks she's crazy because, come on, who wants to do dishes? But throughout the ups and downs of their breakup throughout the film, he realizes that he does in fact want to do the dishes - not for himself, but for her. By doing those damn dishes, it shows her that he's being thoughtful, helpful, and going out of his way to do something unpleasant simply because it helps her out. In our house, it's the bed. When I see that our bed is made, it makes me smile each and every time; he took a few extra minutes out of his morning to do something he doesn't give two shits about (we crawl back in at night, what's the point?) - just because I like my sheets tight and I think my throw pillows are darn cute. I get this same lovey-feeling when I discover the dishwasher is empty, when he surprises me with a favorite dessert, when he bails on a work out to hang in - individually these seem like such small things, but it IS these small things that set the tone for our attitudes toward each other. It creates a mutual respect, and a desire to continue the thoughtfulness. 

The next quote comes from Sex And The City, where friends are discussing how often they feel happy in their marriages. Character Charlotte says "every day" to which her friends roll their eyes - but she follows it up with "not all day every day, but every day". I've always found that so profound but also so important. There are going to be bad moments; arguments, disagreements, frustrations - and often, this quote has stopped me from going off the deep end into a downward spiral of "I'm unhappy. This isn't working. Here we go again." I can take the moment for what it is: unpleasant, challenging, upsetting - and know that it'll get worked through. That it doesn't need to ruin the whole day. That it doesn't undo all the good. 

But man, it's taken some WORK and some TIME to get to a point where we want to do those dishes, where we find happiness in every day - not every moment. It's taken a decade of growth, vulnerability, good times, bad times - and I guess my whole point in writing this is just out of gratefulness. I'm glad we didn't give up when we were faced with those hard times, I'm glad I married someone who is so willing to fight and that I found that fight within myself. I know how it feels to post a family photo on social media and know the fakeness behind it. I know how it feels to look at others with envy, or to believe that my marriage should mirror this fictional Lifetime love story. I'm so fortunate to have been able to move past fiction and comparison and create our own unique story. I love that we support each other whether we are on a juice cleanse or decided it was a brilliant night for tequila shots. 

So thank you, doll, for all the "flowers" - the bed making, the dishes, the foot rubs, the oatmeal cream pies. You make me feel all the feels. 

RIP Control Freak

We all crave control, especially when there are lots of things in this world that are OUT of our control. 

The funny thing is that once I let go of a lot of the things I thought I NEEDED to control to keep all the plates spinning, I FELT more in control, and not a single plate dropped. 

I used to think that I needed to control time; time together, time with friends, time for family or outings or chores. I was so regimented that I made everyone - myself included - miserable. Everything seemed forced, on a time crunch, under pressure and filled with anxiety. If my husband said he’d be home from work at a certain time and god forbid stopped for gas, my blood boiled with every minute that passed. I was glued to the clock (especially a new-to-two mom who needed a break). My husband didn’t stand a chance from the minute he walked through that door, where I would instantly fling a newborn onto him and huff and puff myself into the next room. Because I treated him this way, I would receive similar treatment back; out with girlfriends or for a pedicure, I’d receive texts on time frame and short-answered responses if things ran late. Then I’d be the one coming home to a grumpy husband, needy toddler and crying baby. 

As a mother, I thought that controlling things like nap time, meals, snacks, and bedtime were a matter of life and death. Inflexibility caused me to miss out on many things, created stress in our home, arguments in my marriage, and less than patient parenting. 

This carried over into exercise and food. 

When your body feels out of control after a baby, you want nothing more than to feel back in control. (How sad). I made sure, no matter how exhausted or how inconvenient, that I went for a run or did some form of exercise every.day. 

Husband gets home from work, I fly out the door.

Kids down for a nap? Yoga mat rolls out. 

Opportunity for a babysitter? To the gym I went.

I missed out on so many moments with my husband by doing this, when I could have taken that time to be with him or use that sitter for a needed night out. I was so self absorbed in my need for control.

Enter food. It’s one thing to eat healthy, but I used to take it to a whole new level. I’m talking super restrictive, super strict, bring my own meals to weddings and holidays kind of level. This kind of restriction naturally lead to binges, depression, over exercising, but most importantly - a bad attitude that was easily projected onto my husband and kids. Family meals were non existent because I ate something different. Going out was likely embarrassing with my detailed food orders. I was constantly calorie counting, which meant always planning ahead, which meant always thinking about food. That attention could have been so much better spent on my own family than my selfish control needs. 

Enter our move to NC. When, for the first time in 30 years, I let it all go. I went out with new friends with no time frame planned, and learned my husband was supportive. I encouraged him to do the same, with weekend plans to golf, surf,  grab beers; and I, too, found that seeing him relaxed created more happiness between us. 

I ate the pizza and tasted the ice cream for the first time in years. I worked out when I felt like it and moved in ways I felt like moving, instead of calculating calories that needed to be burned. 

The most amazing part of it all is that once I let go of the tight grip I had on control, the more my life felt IN control. When I ate intuitively I stopped when I was full with no binges. I took more rest days and active recovery days because there was no longer anything to “work off” which in turn created much healthier, better feeling work outs. Not panicking over food or time to work out gave my brain space to breathe, leaving room for more games with my kids and fun with my husband. My relaxed NC lifestyle cascaded onto my family, and I see how strong and loving my marriage is, I see how little my daughter needs her anxiety medicine, I see how much joy my little one gets when she can have desert first. 

Letting go gave me the life that the control-freak in me wanted all along. 

In It

    I think most of us make an effort to live in the present. Cliché's like "the past is gone and the future isn't here" or "the only time is now" or the more recently popular "YOLO" may have us taking moments to pause and appreciate where we're at, or in the very least temporarily ease previous guilt or future anxieties.  We can notice that yes, okay, we're here, and this is now, especially those of us with little ones who are growing up right before our eyes - but one simple moment at the dinner table took my present moment a little deeper. 

    There was no big thing, just my little family of four gathered in our dining area eating a very basic-bitch meal of chicken and rice. We were taking turns sharing our highs and lows of the day, and an overwhelming thought appeared and was so simple yet so heavy that it took the air from my lungs: this is it, I'm in it. I couldn't tell you one single high or low that was shared over dinner that night, but I can tell you what I was feeling: immensely present. I was looking at the little faces of our daughters in awe of how much they've grown, and yet knowing that they will never be this young or in this moment ever again; knowing that they will one day move out on their own and create their own lives, and that this is IT - this short 18 years that I have them here with me, this ability to wake them in the morning and tuck them in at night, this frustrating time of pre-teen hormones and an ever tattling 8 year old - it's it. It's now. 

    And it wasn't just a feeling with my kiddos, it's everything about right now. I looked around that dinner table realizing that we're here; here in North Carolina, here in a loving happy marriage, here with our parents alive and well, here with wonderful friends near and far, extended family who love us, more pets than we need but love, careers we are proud of and enjoy, the health of our family during a pandemic. I could have burst at the seams with how all of this filled me with such an appreciation, because at any moment of any day, any one of those things can change. One phone call can change your entire life, one mistake can ruin your marriage, one illness can scare you to death, one wrong move can ruin your career...anything can happen and we can't predict or control how, when or where. All I could do at that dinner table was genuinely know how much I'm in it. I'm in the best days of my life. The happiest days of my life. The days where my parents' voices are only a phone call away, where my kids still need me, where my husband and I obsess over each other, where everything just seems GOOD. 

    All the struggles we've been through and losses we know we'll suffer ahead have me blissfully stuck in my little bubble of now, and I'm so fortunate to be living this life. So thank you, random Tuesday chicken dinner, because you brought me back to where I'm meant to be: in it. 

Lessons From The Neighborhood

People pleaser.

Anxiety ridden.

Peace keeper.

Naive.

High expectations.

You'd think that moving into such a close knit neighborhood would teach you a lot about others, but most of all, I have learned a lot more about myself in these last seven months. 

Moving here, I had high expectations of what neighborhood life would look like; kids playing in the street, block parties and cookouts, new work out buddies, fire pits, game nights, friends who become like family - all in a brand new home we are proud to open our doors to. Fortunately, we did get a lot of this, but what I didn't expect was how much my people pleasing tendencies would cause me to live in a constant state of anxiety. 

If I'm being totally honest, the neighborhood life can be weird. It's no secret when you have company or when you're not home, making me feel like I'm always under a microscope. Having so many neighbors with so many different personalities has made it difficult to have those big BBQ's or parties I had envisioned, and yet I always live in fear that I will hurt someone's feelings or make someone feel left out. When neighbors are outside, I wonder if they expect me to come say hello or if they want to be left alone. Gossip and drama makes the rounds, fast, as we get to know more people and share our experiences. The house I was so proud to own and show off became less special as we visited those with the same model. When my kids are invited over, I worry about them overstaying their welcome or even being welcomed at all. All the worry and wonder leaves me drained, but is also proving to be a major lesson.

These are no one's problem but my own, and work that I need to do for myself. In fact, most of these "problems" aren't problems at all, but creations in my own head through anxiety. I had to take a step back to learn more about myself and what I can do moving forward, because the reality is that where we live is absolutely amazing - I just need to choose to see it that way.

Here's what I know:

I meet people on full throttle. I give hugs, I offer drinks, I make food, I plan outings, I overshare, I ask too many questions, I laugh too loud and too often...all while wearing rose colored glasses. I can be your instant best friend, which I'm slowly learning can be a downfall for myself. It causes me to be naive, only seeing people for the new friend I'm excited to have rather than the individual they are. I've done this my entire life; during school years, when friends and family started new relationships, with the stranger on the plane; I meet you and I instantly adore you. And, if I don't, I'll be on a mission to get to know you so I can understand why. As I get older and my circle gets smaller but stronger, I want to shed this people-pleasing skin that's been weighing me down all these years. I want to slow down, step back, share slowly, listen intently, raise my standards, lower my expectations. I want to release myself from the burden of others' feelings and retire from my job as the peace keeper. I want our new friendships to have depth, and accept and move on from those that don't.

I need to see our new neighborhood life for what it is rather than what I expected it to be. It can be tricky, but it's also given us everything we wanted for our girls. It's allowed us to meet some amazing people, have nightly after dinner walks, front porch drinks, back yard fires; it's forced us out of our comfort zones and into personal growth we didn't even know we needed. And, for right now, after years of living on a main road and having young children, it's imperfectly perfect for us. 

Who knew? 

Marriage Mistakes

Both my husband and I come from families of divorce. For me, it was not only my parents, but my brother and aunts and uncles as well. I entered my marriage with Eric at the young age of 22 determined to break the pattern, telling myself that love was enough, quoting Drake to say things like "I bet if I give all my love then nothing's gonna tear us apart" - because who can argue with that? I thought things would never become dull or stale, because there would always be the next thing; a vacation to plan, a house to buy, more kids to have, holidays and dinner parties to look forward to. Looking back, I can see why our families and friends had their concerns with our young marriage and our naive outlook. All I could think was I can't wait to prove everyone wrong.

The biggest mistake I ever made in our marriage was putting our children before my husband. I know most will believe that the kids should always come first, and here's where my family's history of divorce got in the way. My mindset would quickly turn to children are forever, marriage is temporary with any argument, disagreement, or conflict. Instead of diving into the issue hand in hand with my husband and battling through as a team, I'd flip a switch that gave all of my time and energy to our daughters. I figured my efforts were most preciously spent with them, because no matter what, I'd always be their mother, I may not always be someone's wife. This turned out to be the beginning of a long downfall for Eric and me.

Our lack of problem solving lead to a marriage that lacked communication. Before I knew it, all of my eggs were in the kid-basket, leaving my husband with time to fill, which he did by working over time and going to the gym. We were barely seeing each other, leaving me feeling alone in the parenting world and him alone in our marriage. Any attempts at communicating would lead to explosive arguments filled with months (even years) of pent up grudges. Attempt after attempt of sharing our needs, reworking our schedules, and C O M M U N I C A T I N G were never long lasting because we were both so stubborn, so defensive, and only able to see our own side/needs/wants. This is where I really thought we were heading for divorce, which made it easy to think that the grass was greener on the other side...

This really threw us into fight or flight mode when it came to our marriage. Were the things we needed from each other attainable, or were we asking too much of one another? Could we tweak this and work out that and still be true to ourselves, or would it change us? We had a lot of soul searching to do to figure it all out, but it the end it came down to one big change from me: I had to put him first.

The moment I focused on our marriage over our kids, everything improved. Eric was getting the attention he needed (and deserved), and therefore was a more patient father and loving husband. Our kids were happier with happier parents; even happier then when I was giving them my full, undivided attention. Slowly but surely, the efforts were restored, and, through the help of our amazing therapist, our communication improved, guards came down, defenses were shut off, and for the first time we were really able to just hear each other. To quote another song, "the house don't fall when the bones are good", and now we have a foundation that I'm proud to have as an example for our girls. Having them grow up to witness a strong marriage that, yes, takes effort every single day, but that is so filled with love, touch, emotion, and thoughtfulness fills me with hope that we will continue to break the divorce cycle in our family and that they just may too.

Marriage Moment

My husband and I are not sexy. With someone always tripping or spilling or pointing out a zit, romance has never been our forte. We've always been much better at stealing each other's yawns, racing to the top of the stairs, or spontaneously dancing together while brushing our teeth.

So the other night after whatever shenanigan was going down between us in our bathroom and our bursts of laughter had simmered down, I was taken by surprise when Eric turned to me and said "I like you".  Together for nearly 10 years and married for nearly 9, this statement should not have come as a shock, and yet there I was feeling like it was new all over again. So naturally with all this time on my hands (thanks Corona) I've thought about why those 3 little words meant so much to me. Here's what I've got:

Love is not always a choice. You love your family no matter what. Saying "I love you" can become more of a routine than a meaning-filled choice of words; it's said when someone leaves for school or work, after goodnight kisses are shared, and at the end of phone calls, emails or texts. But like? Like is a choice. You get to choose who you like and dislike, and as deep as love can be, in that moment in the bathroom with my husband, like held more meaning- especially after a decade together. Those 3 little words made me appreciate my marriage so much in that moment, knowing that after all this time we still choose each other, have fun with each other, love each other, but most of all, genuinely LIKE each other.

So share the love in this time of chaos and uncertainty, but don't forget about those non-routine "likes", too.

Diggin' It

No one wants this virus to be happening. No one wants to be stuck at home, out of work, or feeling scared like so many of us are forced to be right now. With all the loss of control in the world and our daily lives, our only option is to find the good, that silver lining in this uneasy time. It can be hard to look past the Groundhog Day boredom, the countless sibling battles, the suffocating feeling of not being able to go anywhere, but doing so can help us from spiraling and help us actually enjoy this time for what it is.

Okay, so there have been some low days. I'm talking days where I get a little excited to find dog poop on the floor just because it gives me something to do (A-ha! A task!). But, as repetitive and as boring as it can be to wake up and have nothing to do day after day, there's also an element of excitement, of ease to it all as well. I think I love having nothing to do with the option to do things with no time restraint. Exercise, cooking, reading, TV shows, sun bathing, card games, crafts...all things that would be crammed in in the allotted window; before work, after dinner, before the kids wake, after bedtime, before a class, after homework...there was a time and a place for it all, and now it's all up in the air; as we please, at leisure, relaxed.

I think what I'm loving the most is how we are all connecting more, both within my immediate family at home and with friends and family from a distance. I tell ya, I'v never appreciated FaceTime and Zoom so much. I love my happy hour with friends, as we sip drinks and catch up "face to face", I love the coffee date I had with my sister as we caffeinated and caught up, I love the more frequent phone calls and check-in texts that build stronger bonds. Even having moved far away, I feel closer to people more than ever. At home, with less distraction, I feel more detailed conversations unfold between my husband and me; instead of simply asking how my run went, he goes on to ask how many miles, how I felt, where I ran, which leads to talk of previous races and the encouragement of any upcoming. With our gyms being closed, we've been able to connect more in our home-gym, whether it's sharing work outs or simply keeping each other company. I've been more compliant to him training me, and he's been more open to try things I suggest.

With my kiddos, I no longer have to put pressure on myself to evenly distribute my time between them, because all we have is time. We can flow through the day picking up a deck of cards here or putting a show on there. I have the time to do the time consuming things they enjoy, like giving Hannah a make-over or listening to Lyla's playlist alongside her. I've also been able to teach them things from my childhood, like card tricks and hand claps. They've learned some new chores and how to cook some new things, but have also had more screen time than I usually allow which has been a treat for them and a lesson in letting go for me.

Oh and this weather! How thankful I am to be quarantined in Wilmington, where we have the ability to spend most of our days outdoors. Bike rides, basketball games, and jump rope challenges have not been cancelled. The ability to go lay out in the sun (and not feel guilty because, time!) has not been cancelled. Front porch white wine before dinner has not been cancelled. As shitty and as scary as this can all be, there is so much good right now. My kids are happy because they are relaxed, and can have alone time or mommy-time as they see fit. My husband can relax after work knowing that if he wants to kick his feet up or throw a show on, I am more than happy to take a book outside while the kids play. I am happy because of where we are, the connections we're making, the tan lines I'm getting, and the time; I am most thankful for the time. Time to get in the best shape of my life, time to clean my house without guilt, time to read or rest, to spend with family or on the phone with loved ones, time to have extra drinks and Trader Joe's treats, time for it all. 

Quarantine, I didn't choose ya, but I have learned that I sorta dig ya.