Archive for August, 2009
Quote of the Week: First Rate
Posted by: | CommentsA first-rate marriage is like a first-rate hotel: expensive, but worth it.
~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, 1966
The Battle of the Schedules. Got Ideas?
Posted by: | CommentsI’m busy. I’ve always been busy. When single you are given the opportunity to do all kinds of things – anytime you want, anywhere you want. You can just pile it on. Or shrug it off. Whatever. It’s fabulous.
But, then, you get married.
Giving up the ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want, is supposed to be replaced with a level of deep companionship, love and other goodies that aren’t PG enough for me to dare to post here. So, that’s the trade off right?
But, as any LBB will tell you, knowing this and doing this are two different things.
I’ve blogged before about Just Being There. This means if you want to stay married you have to physically show up for one another. Sometimes this means sitting on the couch with Husband while he’s watching the news when you’d rather be doing, well, anything else. But, you can’t be married and Be Away. (Ask any Hollywood couple who spend 95 percent of their time on movie sets away from their loved ones. They end up eventually Walking Alone Again.)
But, what about all the stuff you used to do, that you really like to do, and that you’d like to continue to do that doesn’t involve Husband?
For instance, I take Pilates class twice a week, dance classes twice a week, go to the gym, I dunno, four times a week, and attend volunteer board meetings and business networking events (fewer now than before but still regularly). Oh, and I run my own business, which involves going out of town a few days a month. And, of course there are lunches, occasional dinners, coffees and wine dates with friends to keep. Also, one-time events occur, such as office moves and car breakdowns necessitating buying a new one (as I did this month).
(I’m thinking about adding guitar lessons to the schedule. What do you think? Too much?)
With all this plus Husband’s stuff — his business, his volunteer work, his hobby of flying his own airplane — and you could say getting Husband’s and my schedules together is harder than getting the U.N. together.
And, to top it off, while the schedule might work out, the actual event that is scheduled may not be what you want.
The truth about any relationship is that no one wants to feel like they are giving anything up to be in it; they want to know they are gaining something better. It’s important to not just give up everything you love to do to adopt the other person’s version of fun activities. So, it’s important to have things you like to do together and not torture each other when you want to do things separately. But, I’d really, really, really like to know how to reconcile his interests with my interest with our interests.
Anyone got any ideas? Before I call the guitar teacher…
Quote of the Week: You Don’t Bring Me Flowers, Anyyyymooooore….
Posted by: | CommentsMatrimony is a process by which a grocer acquired an account the florist had. ~Francis Rodman
It’s Alive! The Married, Joint-Decision-Making Brain Cell
Posted by: | CommentsAnd, another thing… Exactly at what point in married life do you hand over the ability to make decisions all on your own? Apparently, pretty early into it. Years ago I would have sneered about what I’m about to share with you. But, today?
Well, it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, for meeeee….
I used to think when I was single that all those married women, standing in line before me at some cashier’s counter or before a sales person – taking up space and time – were wimps. Seriously. Calling their husbands to ask them what they thought about XYZ? Puh, lease. Grow some cajones.
I now know better. These women were high-level strategists. Machiavelli mavens. Sheer geniuses. Forgive me, oh, goddesses.
You see, yesterday I bought a new car. Okay, it was a new used car. But, new to me, nonetheless.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve bought a car. Rather, it was my sixth trek to the car nursery to pick up a new baby, all of which were handled on my own. I started as I always do. I knew what I wanted, did my research, and went to CarMax where I knew I wouldn’t be hassled with those stupid selling techniques. (May I take your credit card to my manager to show you are serious? And, let me check with my manager to see what I can do. Blah, blah, blah. Then, 14 hours later you’re still sitting there haggling over $100.)
So, per my past experience, I ordered the car online from www.carmax.com, showed up, drove it, decided to buy it. Simple. Well, yesterday, something additional clicked in. I did not realize this change until I found myself dialing Husband’s cell phone number for the eighth time to ask him a question during the car buying spree.
I had questions about trade in value (for my old car), insurance, extended warranties, key location (where on earth did you put the extra key that they now want to reclaim? for the car I was trading in), and, if I should declare the new car as “commercial” since I use it for business. I could have made educated guesses myself, easily. However, something inside me whispered eerily, Waaaaait a second. Caaaalll Husband, Caaaalllll Husband.”
Interestingly, my sales guy praised me for this non-stop calling. (By the way, Salesguy had the same first name as Husband. Do you think they plan that sort of thing?). I apologized for calling so many times in front of him. But, he said, oh, no, don’t apologize, I’m actually impressed. My wife would never do that. She’d just say either you are on board or you aren’t.
(I need to talk to this woman. She needs to be clued in on the genius-ness of “checking in.”)
You see, it’s not that I don’t have my own answers or opinions about car selling and buying. It’s just that a “brain cell” (obviously only awakened by a marriage certificate) came alive providing some very important insight during my visit to Carmax. All those calls to Husband? Well, I was just subscribing to what all those women, who I sneered at years ago, know: if you don’t loop them early into the decision making you are left alone with said decisions when you return home. This could be a very, very bad thing.
Rather, these “check-in” women are Avoid and Share the Blame Responsibility Experts – as in avoiding the dreaded why did you do that? questions or looks when you do it yourself. By asking Husband lots of questions, anything that gets decided (or brought home) is now a joint decision or at least a joint purchase. I checked in with you, say these sly ladies who know the drill. If you wanted to know whether or not it had cruise control, ya’ should have asked me when I was on the phone with you for the 18th time!
See?
So, now my new old victim car sits in our drive. And, last night, when Husband came home, he just parked his own car, peeked in the windows of my new one as he walked by, and strolled right into the house. Not a word said. Not a single question. Ah, peace.
Side Note: I actually teared up a bit when I handed over the keys to my old BMW X5. Me and the X5, well, we’ve been through a lot together. Albeit, they were very expensive memories. In five years I replaced the entire cooling system at least three times, replaced gaskets (Don’t be fooled by the innocent-sounding little things. They are evil incarnate when they blow.), twice had the electrical system worked on, twice replaced the tires and brakes (at more than $1,000 a pop), and just last week, the alternator. Come to think of it, I must be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. I understand the ole X5 is going to auction. Payback’s a bitch.
Quote of the Week: The Right Mate
Posted by: | CommentsSuccess in marriage does not come merely through finding the right mate, but through being the right mate. ~Barnett R. Brickner
Amen, brother.
When the Family Styles Are So Very, Very Different
Posted by: | CommentsSo, I realize you haven’t heard from me in a while. That is because my extended family has begun the summer invasion. And, I mean, serious arrivals. (Not much time has been left for blog writing. However, it has been ripe with posting material.)
In the last 30 days I have been with cousins from Zurich, my sister and her family from Munich, cousins from New Jersey, and my father and stepmother from Florida. Throw in the “locals,” such as my other sister and her family, my aunt and uncle from the other side of town, and mom and stepdad on yet the other side of town, and, well, we have quite the gatherings.
Yesterday we had a barbeque at mom’s pool and tonight we have yet another barbeque at my sister’s place. Then, in the next five days, we have a dinner at our house, a restaurant-out-adults-only dinner, and two more gatherings involving various activities. Husband is a trooper. He has only asked once if anything was “optional.”
I knew Husband’s family and my family were very different from the moment he asked on, something like our second or third date, what I was doing for Christmas. I was only half way through my answer (the list was long) when his eyes started to glaze over. I do believe his sugar level dropped dangerously from all the activity he was imagining. (Good thing we were at dinner.)
Differing “family styles” have been on my mind a lot lately, thanks to the family invasion of late.
I am grateful to be able to see family who live in such far-flung locations. But, I also realize that Husband is thrown into family dynamics that are, well, dynamic. And, very, very different from his family’s make-up.
As a late bloomer bride, I assumed older age would mean adjusting to various family styles wouldn’t be so hard. I mean, we’ve adjusted to office mates and different work cultures over the years. How hard could family be?
Bwaha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! (To this day, I am amazed at the level of naiveté in which I swam, as a single person. I mean, I’m a college graduate with a successful business. How did I believe some of these things? Anyway…)
Husband’s family is quiet. Like sitting in the living room talking about “whatever” over tea. My family is, well, hmmm, how shall I explain?
Picture a leisurely Sunday afternoon with about a dozen people of varying ages engaged in a very loud game of pool baseball (literally, in the swimming pool), with someone setting off fireworks in the horse field — because it’s not dark yet and bonfire can’t be lit until it is — with the boom box spilling out Linkin Park or Barbara Streisand (take your pick because someone will inevitably try to change it when no one else is looking) causing someone else to be singing and dancing around said pool, all the while with yet another family member trying to drum up a game of pool telephone charades because pool baseball is so last year. All at once. Oh, and someone else is shouting saying let’s do [insert a very loud, physical activity] instead.
Throw in the different languages you’ll likely here at any given moment (German, French, Swiss-German, and English), and well, you better bring ear plugs or just give in. I usually just give in.
Husband has learned to give in, too. And, this is really, really something because the level of drama that occurs at my family in one night is about a decade’s worth of drama for Husband’s family. So, I must give him kudos for showing up at all. It must feel like jetting off to Mars sometimes. (Or, as my 10 year old niece once said, when you three – meaning her mom, myself and our other sister – get together, you scare me. Apparently we talk too much alike, causing much confusion.)
I am pretty sure that marrying someone later in life who is tolerant of a different “family style” is a pretty big key on the ole marriage keychain. Either that or buy a really big set of ear plugs.
Quote of the Week: Silence
Posted by: | CommentsSpiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart. ~Author Unknown
Of Tent Zippers and Corkscrews
Posted by: | CommentsI have decided that Husband did not bring too much stuff to AirVenture last week.
(AirVenture is the largest aircraft show in the world. Picture 100,000 people walking around looking at thousands of planes in acres of grassy fields and looking heavenward from about 2 p.m. to 5:30 p.m. every day for the air show. It all happens just outside of Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Oh, and picture port-a-pottys. Everywhere. Because everyone camps outside. And, drinks beer. Lots of beer.)
I chided Husband for packing a camping store into a rather large SUV to go away for just over 7 days. But, I soon learned that not everything I wanted went with him.
I arrived a few days later – via commercial airline. (There wouldn’t have been room for me in the rather large SUV he drove from Virginia to Wisconsin, anyway.)
But, I did figure almost anything I could want would be there. Not so. I quickly vowed to be part of the packing extravaganza the next year when I asked him – upon arrival—for the corkscrew. (I sent him ahead with a few bottles of wine and strict instructions to wait until I got there.) He replied, what corkscrew? This is not what one wants to hear after waking up at 4:45 a.m. to take two flights, rent a car in Milwaukee, and drive over an hour to get to the campsite, much, much later that day. Rather, I wanted to hear – just uncorked the first bottle for you, love. May I pour you a glass?
Then, of course, other questions went unanswered such as – where are the bath towels and do you have a flashlight for those middle of the night trips to the port-o-johns?
Of course, Husband may have had an ulterior motive — one that involved keeping me “high and dry,” if you know what I mean. Because, really, is there anything louder than a tent zipper at 2 a.m.? I think not. I know this because I woke up Husband AND the campers on either side of us every night with said zipper to make the trek to the outhouses. Wine does that to you. (Husband might have known this.)
Of course, if you wanted some triscuits or beer, we had plenty to spare. So, as soon as the wine ran out (we borrowed a corkscrew from other campers), the beer replaced it.
Still, next year, I’m going to help pack. Because if I have learned anything from travelling with Husband, it is this: his priorities and my priorities are not always the same. That’s okay. But, knowing your spouse’s priorities before leaving the house is key. (Personally, I would have thought – being handed two bottles of wine to pack – that I should bring a corkscrew. But, hey that’s just me.)
Quote of the Week: The Heart’s Eyes
Posted by: | CommentsThe heart has eyes which the brain knows nothing of.
~ Charles H. Perkhurst
