Archive for Communication
The Wedding Post-Mortem or How To Not Do What I Did
Posted by: | CommentsI have recently gotten wind of a few LBB wedding stories that have chilled my little heart. (This is a feat given the relentless, windy, frigid temperatures outside. Spring, where are you?)
It is unfortunate that so many women who have chosen to get married later in life experienced what I call the “blasé wedding blues.” Apparently, if you are over 40 and getting married for the first time, a typical response is:
- It’s about time, now just go off and do it already, or
- Good for you, now just go off and do it already.
Very few people want to make a big deal around a woman over 40 getting married for the first time, say these LBB compatriots. Such a shame.
If you are 25 and getting married for the first time, well, every person in your sphere stands at attention, awaiting orders, while secretly planning bachelorette parties, “steal the bride” moments, bridal showers, gift registry tips, wedding dress shopping dates and more.
Deep down inside, we all want people to make a fuss. It’s human nature. Now, that “fuss” may be defined differently. But, in the end, we all want people to “ooh” and “aah” over our life choices, even if in a whisper.
As for me, if I could re-do my wedding (and the months leading up to it) there are many things I would change.
- I would have had bridesmaids. (I had none.)
- I would have invited more than 43 people to our wedding.
- I would have cared less about whether everyone else was having a good time and concentrated on having a good time myself.
- I wouldn’t have planned so many things that weekend to keep everyone happy and occupied (a pre-wedding barbeque party, a rehearsal dinner for the parents, a girlfriend’s lunch, the wedding and reception itself).
- I would have asked for more hoopla leading up to the weekend wedding, itself, which I did not have to plan and execute.
And, there it is. That last little bullet. The thing I have been holding in my heart that I did not realize until a recent LBB recounted her own story of how “unmoved” her family seemed about her getting married.
My situation was nothing like hers. She literally had “relatives behaving badly” from making snarky comments to not showing up for events. They treated her wedding day as just any old event. In fact, some of her relatives treated her wedding weekend like it was their vacation, and therefore, everything and anything could be “blown off” if they didn’t feel like it.
Everyone behaved around my wedding. And, everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there.
But, the year leading up to the Big Event? Well…
The truth is, no matter your age, you do want large events in your life celebrated. I had the wedding shower (bless you, T), a small engagement party thrown impromptu by friends (bless you, K & R), the well wishes, the mandatory attendance at the Big Event itself.
But, at times I did get the sense from some folks involved (who shall remain nameless) that my nuptials were all very “been there, done that,” too.
I bear some (much) responsibility for this.
- I acted “all independent” letting everyone know I could plan and “do” this wedding all by myself. And, I did. In fact, I even told Husband all he had to do was show up. And, he did.
- I did not ask for any fanfare. I told everyone “whatever you want to do…blah, blah, blah.” And, they did.
- I believed if I was over 40 then there was to be no screaming, jumping up and down, and giggling. It was all to be dignified. And, elegant. And, mature. Oh, boy. Tons of fun.
In the end, you get what you ask for. So, all you future LBBs out there, choose what you want. Then, speak.
As for me, I’m throwin’ one helluva anniversary party at year five. There will be mandatory merry-making and whooping. Oh, and giggling. Lots of giggling.
Married Thoughts Versus Single Thoughts
Posted by: | CommentsThere are a number of thoughts I have now as a married person, that I am quite certain I did not think when I was single.
What should we have for dinner? That’s one.
Another is please, please, please let the dishes in the dishwasher be dirty. This is because I just want to throw in that spoon and not worry about it. (Admit it, you have this thought.) If they are clean, well, then someone has to unload them. I hate unloading the dishwasher. Guess who unloads the most? When single, I could go a whole month without having to do that deed. Or, just wash them again. What the heck.
Another consideration is how can I get Husband away from that computer to the dinner table? Yes, I have become that woman, the one who yells up the stairs, dinner is ready in 10 minutes. Then, I yell, 5 minutes. And, then I spend the next 15 minutes actually trying to tear him away from his office before the chicken parmesan I’ve prepared gets cold.
Others include:
Do I have time to go to the gym after work before Husband gets home?
Has that towel been used?
Hmm, I wonder if Husband will leave first tomorrow morning and I should pull into the driveway first. But, then I might want to go the gym. Naaa, I should just pull in so he can pull in behind me. But, then again he might take that conference call tomorrow from home and then…
Should I put a note on that cheese (do not eat)?
I was here first, so hands off the remote.
Should I put a note on that dark chocolate (don’t you dare eat)?
Will he remember about my dance class tonight so he has to fend for himself for dinner (even though I’ve been going to this same class for three years now)?
Do we need milk? (But, only when I’m standing in milk aisle of the grocery store. When I was single, I always knew what was in the refrigerator. Nothing.)
Like that.
And, then, of course there is when are you coming home? I miss you.
The Dance of Desires, Wishes and Dreams – Who is Supposed to Lead?
Posted by: | CommentsThe parallel between marriage and ballroom dancing has been drawn many times. So, I probably can’t add much. Except for the fact that I may declare here and now that whatever “they” have said is probably true—how you are on the dance floor is how you are in life.
Husband and I took about six months of ballroom dancing – learning the foxtrot, the waltz, swing, nightclub 2 step. (Tango was out given how much we struggled with the simple foxtrot.)
During that six months, Husband was vindicated in more ways than he could count. But, then again, so was I.
For one, I am terrible at following (which basically tracks with the rest of the time). He knew he married an independent woman. But, independence is not rewarded on the dance floor. Following is rewarded.
In most ballroom dancing, men are in charge. Women are to be led. And, as our teacher said, if he stops, you stop. You don’t do anything until he tells you to, all with his hand and sometimes the placement of his hips – which, by the way, I’m not supposed to watch. I’m just supposed to somehow “feel it.”
My real job was to follow his hand, keep the frame (the space between us), and maintain “tone” in my outstretched arm. (So much for all that Pilates. Five minutes of that and my arm was screaming at me.)
Most of the time, it turned out Husband wasn’t interested in leading me anywhere (which also basically tracks with the rest of the time). He’d rather I just follow without him having to do anything. Or, just do whatever I want to do. But, this does not work on the dance floor. He must command.
(Additional trouble included the fact it took us four lessons before I realized the hand I was supposed to be following was the one on my back – not the one at the end of my screaming outstretched arm. And, while following his supposedly ever-present hand on my shoulder blade was hard enough, Husband’s hand kept falling down to my waist, which meant now my torso was attempting to chase said hand around the dance floor. We looked like two ostriches attempting to mate.)
This lead-follow technique is an interesting concept around daily life. If you are a late bloomer bride – married for the first time over age 40 – you have led your own life for a long time. You would have never gotten in the dance otherwise. But, now married, learning when to lead and when to follow can be confusing. For instance, when you want something in your life – and it’s something you wished for, for a very, very long time, who is supposed to take the lead on the wish fulfillment?
I was recently told by someone that I “oversold” the fact I wanted a dog. And, this meant I wouldn’t get it. In an attempt to answer Husband’s question – “what do you want for Christmas?” — apparently the fact I was honest – and honest often – meant I was being too something. Maybe I was trying to lead when I should have been following?
Yet, all the advice I’ve received about discussing your desires include
- You are to be honest at all times,
- Drop the manipulation,
- Don’t expect your spouse to be a mind reader, and
- Men don’t do subtle. You must be direct.
In other words, lead them. But, maybe there is a “just lead them enough” clause that I missed in the marriage contract? Or, are there some dances you’ll never get to dance with your spouse no matter what? So, it doesn’t matter who leads or follows? Just sign me “wanting to learn, but so confused.”
Of Driving and Divorce Predicators
Posted by: | CommentsIt is official. I have become a nag.
But, only in one place. The car.
Who knew that marriage could cause such a personality shift?
When I was single, never in a million years would I have dreamed I’d be one of those women. The backseat driver, the cantankerous why-did-you-take-this-route-lady, the hassler. But, there I was, Christmas Eve, headed toward my sister’s place. Husband in the driver seat. Me, in the nag seat. Telling him how to drive. (Actually, more than that.)
It had snowed – heavily – in previous days. The roads were okay that night, but not great. It was misting, making everything mushier and darker than usual. So, when Husband – who is a silent but stealthy driver – was speeding along the major highway like he always does, it made me nervous. (Husband believes every road is a version of the German autobahn.)
Add to the fact he was not paying any attention to what I was saying, and I grew even more anxious. (Actually, naggier.)
This is because somewhere in my subconscious, I must have believed the pestering needed acknowledging. So, the harassment got louder. Because he might not hear me from eight inches away. So, it grew. (Actually, exploded.)
Husband, slow down!
Why are you going this way? We’ll be late.
Watch that guy!
Stop speeding up to every light and then braking (which is kind of a stupid thing to say, given if you are speeding, you want them to eventually brake)
Careful, Husband. That’s a patch of ice.
What? Are? You? Doing?
You’re going to give me a heart attack!
Sort of like that. (Actually, louder.)
Do you ever have one of those out-of-body experiences where you know your behavior just isn’t right, and you’re looking down on yourself from the ceiling, debating inside why you are continuing with said behavior? Well, it was one of those nights.
I recently came across an article on the best divorce predictors. The number one reason why people split up? Conflict avoidance. I guess we should not be worried. Husband eventually told me to cut it out. (Actually, less subtly.)
Facebooking Couples: Are You on the Same Page?
Posted by: | CommentsHere is an interesting article about couples who “Facebook.” It contains some really good advice about transparency, avoiding “friending” ex-lovers, and thinking twice about marital venting.
Facebook’s privacy controls are growing, but there are still some dangers lurking in cyber happy land. To their list, I will add my own horror stories advice below.
(You may be asking, how much more sensitive can you be to privacy when you BLOG about things in your marriage, LBB? Oh, trust me. Facebook can be waaaay more dangerous than this blog.)
First, there are the posts that others write on my wall, pictures that get tagged, and comments that trickle their way through cyberspace. Personally, I have my FB page pretty locked down. But, the short Santa Baby dress I wore for a dance recently – well, let’s just say it made its way to Husband’s profile, which then allowed his clients to see it. (Naturally, I’m hoping Husband’s clients are thinking – how lucky is he?) I didn’t care. (It looks good.) Husband took it in stride. (He likes the outfit.) All was well.
But, then, recently, a nameless gentleman (you know who you are) posted on a listserv asking for advice on how to friend an ex-girlfriend so her husband wouldn’t find out. (What was he thinking? That, of the 1,000 people on the listserv, this matter would stay private?) One clever reader replied, tell her to also “friend” a good lawyer.
The truth is, nothing on Facebook stays private for long. So, to add to the marital Facebook-ing policies, I add my own thoughts not included in this article:
- Determine whether or not your Facebook page is for pleasure or business. And, I really, really encourage that your spouse’s and your ideas match. Why? See Santa Baby outfit example above.
- The past will find you. Remember your spouse may not know about – or have quite yet acknowledged – that you have a past. Anything you don’t want coming out? Well, be careful about friending those college buddies. They have those old pictures of you doing shooters in that awful 80s hair. Count on being tagged.
- To tag or not to tag? Did you invite everyone to your party? No? You had space restrictions like I did recently and could only squeeze in so many people? Well, know the pictures, while not necessarily embarrassing, alert everyone who wasn’t invited that, well, they weren’t invited. And your spouse may be questioned. Let them know this.
- Make sure you and your spouse agree on Facebook privacy controls. See listserv example above.
- Adhere to the golden rule. Only post on anyone’s wall what you wouldn’t mind having on your wall, having said about you, or having your spouse, boss, children or 82 year old grammie read about you. Play nice. Make your spouse proud to claim you.
Anyone else have anything they’d like to add?
The Gift That Needs Forgiving. Or, How to Say Out of the Dog House.
Posted by: | CommentsThe Wall Street Journal published an article the other day, titled, The Gift That Needs Forgiving. I immediately counted my blessings that Husband has never given me a nightgown four times too large wrapped in a Wal-Mart bag. (You have to read the article to really understand that last bit).
The other day I blogged about marital gift giving and how difficult it can be when you are a late bloomer bride (or husband) because:
- You mostly have what you want already
- The “older you” wants tend to run in the expensive to very expensive category. (For instance, my friend “E” says all her husband wants is a helicopter for Christmas. Guess what he’s not getting again this year?)
- Surprises are harder to develop because your likes and dislikes are so, well, established.
Husband always asks for a wish list. It is supposed to help. But, I lament that he shouldn’t need a list. He laments about what I put on the list. (Have I mentioned before I’d like a puppy?) But, after reading this Wall Street Journal article, about the bad gifts some women have been subjected to, I am thinking differently about Husband’s viewpoint around this whole wish list thing.
While I view holiday shopping as an opportunity to surprise and delight, Husband views it quite differently. I am finding that most men view gift giving as shopping for the other person (hence the list). Apparently, this is helpful in avoiding the “gift that needs forgiving.”
So, I offer more help – in addition to this article – in dealing with differing perspectives around holiday present producing:
- Yes, women, provide a Christmas wish list. But, prioritize the list, as well. This comes from experience. Husband will pick out the one electronic gadget on it, otherwise. He says he understands how to research that one. He will ignore anything that involves a size, a choice (color, etc.) or a trip to the lingerie department. Also, do not be shy about providing hyperlinks to exact items.
- Yes, men, you have to produce a really mushy, beautiful Christmas card with your gift. It will take any sting out of the one utilitarian gift you’re likely to pick off the wish list.
- Expensive isn’t the issue. Personally, I’m hoping for more time with Husband as my Christmas gift this year. A day where we just spend it with each other, doing fun things.
- Men, consider sharing the story around why you picked out a certain gift. We like that you actually thought about it. Yes, this involves talking.
- Ladies, love the story he gives. This is encouraging, and perhaps someday they will discover that communicating is not the death sentence that it can sometimes feel like.
In the end, remember the reason for the season. (But, don’t forget the card.)
Mistakes Made in Arguing: You Be the Girl, and I’ll Be the Guy
Posted by: | CommentsFor some reason I have come across a plethora of articles about how married couples should argue. For one, the “experts” all agree you must disagree on some things, and work them out. Fighting is good, they say. But, you must fight fair.
The following “fighting fair” articles have made their way to my e-mail inbox, one way or the other:
Mistakes Women make in a Fight
So, I decided to cross-check these sets of advice. (Because, you know I don’t have enough to do already.)
Interesting. Here are a few of the cliff notes.
Men should
- be aware of their tone, especially condescension, anger and “glib-ness”
- avoid offering solutions versus listening first,
- not play “tit for tat” (i.e. don’t try to “one up” our complaint with one of your own), and
- avoid just giving in, though display terrific resentment for doing so.
Basically, listen. Kind of like Oprah.
Women should
- avoid showing too much emotion,
- only share what is helpful (avoid rhetorical questions, over-talking, etc.)
- not expect him to respond like a woman,
- not bring up old issues, compare him to the past or (shudder) another man,
In other words, only say what is absolutely necessary. Kind of like Spock.
So, in essence, when fighting, I should be more like a guy, and Husband should be more like the girl.
Oh, but we’re supposed to be ourselves.
I am so confused.
Book Recommendation: The Five Love Languages
Posted by: | CommentsIf you are looking for a good book about how to better love someone (and how to be loved better), then look no further than The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. A wonderfully simple premise — that we tend to express our love to our partners the way we want their love to be expressed to us – this book will help you better understand yourself and what makes your partner feel your love.
The five languages include:
• Words of Affirmation
• Quality Time
• Receiving Gifts
• Acts of Service
• Physical Touch
The book is short. And, there is a survey at the end (separate ones for husbands and wives) that will help you determine your love style. (I was evenly split on two and barely registered on the other three. Lucky Husband, huh?)
It provides rather direct recommendations on how to immediately begin expressing your love to your mate, better. Or, at least in the way they can feel it. I highly recommend having the knowledge contained in this book’s pages. It’s already making a difference for me.
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.
Knowing Your Spouse’s Incapabilities
Posted by: | CommentsI woke up a few days ago hearing a peculiar – but familiar – sound. Water running. Husband had left at 4 a.m. that morning, already heading out on vacation. (I’ll be joining later.) So, clearly either someone else decided to stop by for an impromptu shower upstairs without telling me, or something had to be running somewhere that shouldn’t be.
After finally rising to find out where the river-sounds were coming from, I discovered our garden hose, innocently lying on the back terrace, was spewing out water. It had been left on. And, not for just a little while. This was evidenced by the new backyard swimming pool that had developed. The neighbors got one, too, as the water ran downstream to their backyard.
What’s a girl to do? I just turned it off and went back inside. I figured the water would eventually seep into the ground.
However, apparently the neighbors were not happy with their new reflecting pool, which was rapidly turning into more like a running river. It wasn’t seeping into the ground easily. Not pleased, they called the association president on us. (Why do these things only happen when Husband is out of town?) There I was ironing in my usual morning attire (read: nothing) when I heard banging and found two faces peering in. Awk-ward.
I explained to the neighbor and association president (after putting on clothes, of course) that I had no idea what happened. As they stood in ankle deep water, I apologized nonetheless. Everyone cooled down. The water began to recede ever so slightly. And, I called Husband.
I asked. Ummm, any chance you left the hose running last night? Remember when you went out back to water the grass at 10 p.m. and it was dark? Well, I woke up this morning to our new swimming hole. Neighbors, too. They thought a main pipe had burst underground.”
He laughed.
Husband swore he did not – could not – turn on the garden hose, drop it on the ground, and then walk away. It just wasn’t in his nature to do something so careless. And, ya know what? I agreed with him. It must have been some local prankster (or the gremlins).
Which now brings me to my whole point. I have finally reached the point where I know (at least some) of the things Husband simply would not, could not, do. It’s a strange bit of information to have about someone. But, it comes in handy when neighbors come knocking at 8 in the morning.
