Learning Everyday

It's been a very long week with some really ugly moments, but some beautiful ones too. I am very tired, very impatient for some time to myself and very happy that I'm not normally on my own with the kids, as I was most of this week. Ah, Deer Camp. You slay me.

I haven't written because I've been too busy/too tired/too mad at various times. I've been thinking of whole posts in my head and ditching them. There are some things I just don't want to write here.

But I can say this: my husband is teaching me such lessons in patience. My children are half of him. There are some amazing attributes and some not-so-amazing attributes. Max has been showing his Shrek ancestry in big ways. Why, just tonight, as all of his other siblings were busy or sleeping, he refused my offer to snuggle with him, pooh-poohed my choice of Christmas book for his bedtime story and was generally bullish after I told him he couldn't turn on the TV.

This is a shout out. I'm alive and well. I'm resilient. I'm a Deer Camp widow. And I'm aching to be in my bed.

Just gotta drag the five-year-old up to bed from the loveseat, where he passed out much like his daddy probably would have, had he been home to do it.

Beg, Steal or Borrow

Let's see. Where to start? Busy weekend, a two-year-old with a stomach virus, a ninth anniversary...

I won't go into detail about my weekend, but it was crazy, hectic, fun and stressful. I relied often on the kindness of others, particularly in deference to my children. I got to see a ton of great friends, had my best night this summer around the campfire and witnessed an amazing 30-plus degree change in the weather. This is September in Ohio!

I give the weekend an A. Today? Maybe a B. In spite of a sick toddler and a cranky, teething baby, I rolled with the punches. I remembered both in my gut and in my head that my place is here at home, raising my little people to be good people. I consoled, cleaned and comforted. I'm content.

I spent some time reflecting on my marriage. Today is the ninth anniversary of the day I said "I do," and it has been just like any other day. I specifically instructed Shrek not to send me flowers. We had dinner here, in between four kids needing a million things. He's tired and off to bed, no shared wine or Scrabble tonight, like I thought we might. But it's okay. It's marriage. It ebbs and flows, and, sometimes, you get what you put in. And we had a couple of sweet looks in there that said, "Happy Anniversary, baby.. can you believe the kids we made.... I know you're still the hottie I married..."


When I think about my relationship with my husband and how far we have come, I'm really just amazed at the perspective I've gained in nine short years. I really have grown in the way I think about things, the way I regard my husband, the way I perceive our everyday push and pull. I can't even imagine the perspective changes that occur in people who manage to stay married twenty, thirty, fifty, seventy-five years! God willing, we'll be one of those couples, with enough wisdom to write a book, or at least guide the young people in our lives to see marriage for the gift it is, the burden it can be and the many shades in between.

My advice after nine years? It's worth it. Shop well, marry the best you find, work through the problems, be selfless. It's like life: it isn't always fair, but it's worth it. Beg for forgiveness if you have to, steal kisses whenever possible and borrow the time it takes to make it work.

Ebb and Flow

I had a marathon day yesterday, which seems to be par for the course lately. After getting Lily on the bus, dropping Max at preschool and doing some much-needed housework, laundry and cleaning of the van in the morning, I was a bit exhausted. I think sweeping out the van at 31 weeks pregnant in 22-degree temps might have been the kicker.

At any rate, I had time for lunch and a quick rest (no nap though) before picking up Lily early from school and shuttling all three kids to "well-child" check-ups. Colby, though, wasn't well. He's had a runny nose for months and started fevering up in the waiting room. Turns out he had another ear infection, but what better place to peak than in the doctor's office waiting room? (Good timing, little man!)

All three kids also had flu shots, which was NOT fun. But it's done now, and I'm glad!

Luckily, my aunt Karen met me after we finally got done at the pediatrician's office. I had an OB appointment (the one I had to reschedule upon arrival last week). She took the kids for ice cream and snacks while I consumed two whole magazines in that doctor's waiting room and finally got in to see my favorite doctor in the practice. (Thanks, Aunt K!)

With that out of the way, I returned to my spot as driver of the Mommy Express and drove out to my mom's for dinner. By the time I left there, I was seriously exhausted. When we got home, I was annoyed Shrek didn't seem to hear us come up the driveway and so didn't come help carry in.

Upon entering the house and dropping the fussy baby and the 645,643 other things in my arms, I said, "Next time, I'm going to lay on the horn so you'll come out and help me!"

Shrek's response? "Get over it!"

Oh man! Was I ever mad!!! This has got to be one of my least favorite things to hear him say. It's annoying as ^%$#, and I've decided I won't speak to him if and when he utters it. So I resolved last night that he wouldn't hear my voice again, at least not in deference to him. I huffed around, straightened the ever-in-need of straightening first level of the house, and then realized Colby needed meds and quick, before he fell asleep.

So I dosed him up with both ibuprofen and Omnicef as he sat on Shrek's lap. As I was headed back to the kitchen, I heard "Oh no! We've got a puker!" I rushed back in with the biggest cup I could grab, and sure enough! Colby was puking, a lot, on himself and on his daddy.

Karma bites! Poor daddy isn't as hardy as momma, and I could tell he was really wanting to flip out, but he couldn't. The two of us, faced the SECOND time in one week, with a predicament: puke all over the place and no one to help us but ourselves.

And then, just like the magic that it is, we were allies. His rude snap at me forgotten, my calm his only hope.

And that's marriage, or what marriage should be. It's being able to be mad without striking like a snake. It's being able to be civil, when civility is the last thing on your mind. And it's completely deserting your red-hot anger when you must: when one of your kids is puking, and there's no "i" in team. It's the ebb and flow.

And sometimes that ebb and flow is a long one: weeks or months of lukewarm, or even downright cold, relations and then - wham! - the love is back and better than ever. But sometimes that ebb and flow proves itself in seconds, as it did for us last night.

I'm happy to report the night wasn't as bad as it could have been. Colby is much better! I spent most of today taking care of the boys and doing a fair amount of lounging. Let me tell you something. I'm exhausted. Really. I'm so low-energy and short-of-breath today that I just might have a touch of that bug myself. But I think, more than anything, I'm just trying to catch my breath because I almost always push myself too far. I'm a hard-headed, busy-bodied perfectionist with the world to do. I will never be bored.

I am so glad it's the weekend. I'm ready to regroup.

But, more than that, I'm glad for my husband. He may not be perfect, and sometimes he's just a pain in the ass. But he's mine. And I am not letting go.

Giving Thanks

I love Thanksgiving. It's family, food, gratitude. It's no pressure, a cuppa coffee with dessert and the meeting of the women when we try to come up with a Black Friday plan and simultaneously plan a Christmas gathering for 80. It's my Vera Bradley apron and the matching one I bought for Lily but that gets more use from Max. It's the anticipation of Christmas; the beginning of four intense weeks of kids lip-syncing songs at holiday programs, family gatherings and Advent calendars.

And it's just my kind of holiday. I try to be grateful for the many, many blessings in my life year-round. I seek to always be aware of my own situation and those of others, especially those less fortunate. I strive to teach my own kids what it is to express gratitude everyday.

What am I grateful for? I'm grateful for my husband, who gets better all the time, I swear; for my delicious children and their little brother kicking away in my womb. I'm thankful for my mother, my sister, my entire family. For friends who know me well, and like me anyway. I'm grateful for my health, my country and my freedom.

I am grateful for my house with the furnace rumbling, my warm bed and my life stretching out before me.

I'm drinking from the saucer because my cup is overflowing.

Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you get to spend it with the ones you love.

To Have and To Hold

Wow. I sure am glad I have this handsome man to have and to hold the rest of my life.

As predicted, it was a big weekend full of emotion. Saw some meteors, went to a fantastic wedding, saw old friends and family... and had some tense and sad moments as well. But I'm through it a better person, with more perspective than I had before.

I'm also suffering from a summer cold. So instead of regaling you with my words, I'm going to feed you some fun photos and sign out.

Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Frank Eich! What a party!


My girl, Roberta, and I looking sassy in black!


Looking for a party crowd? Here ya go!


The blushing bride and her super fun sisters on the dance floor!


My baby and I with the sheen and breathlessness that comes with a good, old-fashioned dance party on an August evening!

To the Eichs and all young, married couples awaiting life and its blessings: My wish for you is that you come to know, appreciate and accept the ebb and flow that is marriage. May you know the blessings of true love, healthy children and amazing friends and family. May you grow older, wiser and more grateful together.

And, for heaven's sake! Go to bed mad if you want! Everything looks better in the morning anyway.

Shrek Forever

While some of you might think this post is about the new box office hit I plan to see with my family next week during our "stay-cation," you're wrong.

My husband, who is like an onion with many layers, has fondly been nicknamed "Shrek" by his friends. As Fiona, if you'll allow me, I can tell you it fits much of the time. According to Wikipedia, the DreamWorks character is "a big, strong, solitude-loving, intimidating ogre." He's also got a heart of gold under all that muck and bravado.

Hence, my husband. My Shrek is six years my senior. He and I have been together for nearly 13 years and married for nearly eight years. I don't remember ever being giddy in love; we've just always had a rock-solid base of love from which all things have been endured. We've had ups, we've had downs. We're a perfect, imperfect work in progress.

I feel sorry for the people who don't recognize and embrace that marriage is a constant stream that ebbs and flows. The ebbs are inevitable. They peel back the faces we present to the world, sometimes open us raw and make us fight like hell to make our marriages survive, but, with conviction, marriages can and do survive. And thrive.

After all this time, I'm honestly not bored with him at all. I'm riveted by the man I have loved for so long. It's a joy to watch him to continue to grow and change as our lives become fuller, more blessed and more amazing with the addition of each child, through the relationships we have with our friends and family, and in the face of ever-unfolding tribulations and successes--the thickening of the fabric of our lives.

And we're getting better all the time.

I love you, baby.