Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

marriage

A week’s worth of thoughts

I’ve had a lot running through my mind this week and little time to write out my thoughts. So, lucky you, if you’re reading this, you get to take a peek at a week in the life of my brain. Try not to be afraid.

— I haven’t had as much sleep this week as I would like. Early in the week, Isabelle decided to assert her 2-year-old independence and boldly declare, “No, I not go to sleep” at bed time. This, followed by an hour or more of screaming, “I want my mommy” and throwing herself around her room, passing out in various areas of her room. One night, she fell asleep in the middle of the floor. Tonight confirmed one of my fears about this … she passed out in front of the door to her room, so I woke her up (by nudging the door into her head) when I went in to put Corban to sleep. The experts, doctors, I guess, say one reason for this sort of behavior is because they don’t want to miss out on what’s going on. Isabelle played that card tonight, conning me into letting her take a book and a Bible to bed with her, then desperately asking for anything she could think of to delay bedtime. As her mother, I disapprove of her antics, knowing that sleep is what’s best for her. But if I’m honest with myself, I’m guilty of the same. God repeatedly tells me to rest, and I repeatedly tell him, “But, the dishes aren’t done.” Or, “I need this time on Facebook to relax after a long day.” Or, “I deserve to stay up late and have ‘me’ time after being with the kids all day.” Rest, He says. And I know He knows what is best.

— Isabelle broke a glass in the kitchen this week. She didn’t do it on purpose. I think she was reaching for a dirty dish that she wanted to wash when it crashed to the floor. I rushed her out of the room while I picked up and swept the pieces I could see. I knew I needed to do a better job than that, but I just didn’t feel like it then. I was alone in the house with the kids and I didn’t want to have to play keep away from the kitchen with Isabelle while I tried to sweep and mop the whole floor. I paid for that decision all week. Four times, I stepped on a small piece of glass and had to dig it out with tweezers, wash the wound and affix a band-aid to the bottom of my foot. A few extra minutes when the breakage occurred could have saved me later, as could have a decision to wear shoes in the kitchen until I did. Reminds me of two things: that every decision has a consequence, good or bad and small wounds can cause big hurt.

— I’m having an increasing desire to “do life together” with people, and I’m not confident of being able to fulfill that desire where we’re at. Or maybe I just need to take more initiative. I said earlier this week that I was missing a sense of belonging. I know as a Christian I don’t belong here on earth, but I have to live here till I’m called home, and while I’m here, I want to know I’m part of something. I feel that on Sundays, most of the time. But the rest of the week, not so much. I’m not sure what the answer is, but I was grateful today to be able to hang out with a friend and her daughters. It was unplanned and unscheduled, but it was fun to connect, even though we were just “being.”

— My husband and I accepted a challenge this week, thanks to One Extraordinary Marriage, http://www.oneextraordinarymarriage.com. It’s totally out of my comfort zone, but I’m learning that I’ll do anything to strengthen my marriage. We’ve only been married three years, and while I know there is a cord holding us together (Ecclesiastes 4:12), sometimes that cord feels more like a kite string than a rope. I’m excited to see what’s changed after a week.

— I’ve been struggling with disappointment over things I thought should have happened but haven’t. I believe that God is in control and will not fail us, but acting on that belief isn’t always easy. I need to tear up my agenda for our lives and submit to His leading. Ugh. I can hardly even type that without throwing an internal tantrum.

I could probably go on, but my Swiss cheese mommy brain needs a break and can only think, “Oh, the laundry’s done,” and “It’s time for a snack!” And maybe I’ll listen to my Father for once and turn in early for some much-needed rest.

The myth of happily ever after

Three years ago today, I married the love of my life. I celebrated by taking both children to a WIC appointment by myself, then to the doctor so my 2-year-old could be diagnosed with ringworm, then to two grocery stores, where said 2-year-old threw a fit by throwing groceries out of the cart, all in 90-degree heat. And that was all before noon. Now, both kids are in bed, presumably asleep, and I’m dripping sweat onto the computer as I consider how to spend the rest of the evening. I’m tempted to just go to bed. I could use the sleep. But the house my husband so lovingly cleaned for us before we returned home is a tornadic disaster, and we’ve only been back one full day. Ah, life with children.

Aforementioned 2-year-old is showing a wild, independent streak. Tonight, she put her own supper away. (Miraculously, none of it ended up on the floor.) And she insisted on feeding her brother, not yet 6 months old, by herself. Needless to say, we were all a sticky mess after that was over.

Does anyone think this is what their life will be like when they get married? Toys strewn across the floor. Stepping over said toys on the floor. Stubbing toes on toys you forgot were on the floor. (This happened more than once tonight.) Wolfing down dinner because everyone, including the baby, is hungry at the same time. An hour or more to run errands that by yourself would take 15 minutes. Craving adult companionship while your husband is surrounded by friends, colleagues and brothers and sisters in Christ.

I promise, I’m not depressed. I can’t imagine not having my kids around, even if I sometimes can imagine what life would be like without them. I’m occasionally jealous of married couples who get to take a weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Since we’ve been married, I think our biggest celebration has been dinner and a movie. It’s OK. It’s life. It’s where we’re at. I know someday we’ll be able to do something special, and the time between now and then won’t seem long at all.

Three years isn’t a lot of time to gain wisdom about marriage and relationships, but I gave up the “Happily Ever After” myth a long time ago. People talk about the honeymoon phase. In some ways, I’m not sure we ever had that. But I certainly don’t view weddings the same as I did before I was married. I used to cry because I so badly wanted to be married. Now, I sit in the pew and think, do they have any idea how much work this is? I’m sure I’ll be real popular in any premarital counseling Phil and I do together.

But it’s true: Marriage is hard work. And I don’t think that ever stops. I know some marriages don’t last five years, and I wonder if some of those people were deceived about how much work goes into making a marriage … work. As I told a bride-to-be recently, some of the best pre-wedding wisdom I ever received was that marriage is not a 50-50 partnership; it’s 100-100. We don’t give half of what we are and the other person gives half of what they are. We both give everything we have to each other and to the relationship. I guess for some people that’s too much.

Enough rambling. I think my brain was melted by the heat today. All I really wanted to say was that I love my husband more today than three years ago, and different than I did then, and if we had to get married again, and I knew what I know now, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. God picked the perfect man for me, although he, and I, both are far from perfect.

Maybe happily ever after isn’t so much a myth but a distortion because I’m certainly happy in my marriage, but it’s not a no-problems-everything’s-perfect kind of happy.

It’s a satisfying, real-life, kind of happy. No castles, no fairy godmothers, just two people, madly in love, working out that love day after day.