May 22, 2013

Marriage Month: The Reality

Three weeks ago, I invited you to join me in making May Marriage Month by going on at least one date with your spouse.

In the twenty-one days since that post was published, I spoke at two events, my husband undertook an epic mulching project in our backyard, we rented our house for an extended weekend, celebrated three family birthdays, hosted a going-away party for friends who were moving, held a student event at our house to start the summer semester, carted our daughters to six dance classes, and sat on the sidelines at (or, in the case of my husband, coached) twelve youth soccer practices.

We've gone on zero dates.

Even with this Marriage Month Challenge fresh in my mind because I'm the one who proposed it, it's easy to drift along with life's current and forget to set aside time to "date" my husband.

As I've tried to pinpoint why, I recalled a conversation with a co-worker when I declined an invitation to a weeknight outing with colleagues.  My husband works most evenings and I have the three girls, I had explained.  His response, "Well, you can always just get a sitter."

In my mind, I knew it wasn't quite that simple.  Just getting a sitter meant that I had to find a sitter, pay a sitter, and still prepare dinner for the girls so they could eat with the sitter while I was gone.  Just getting a sitter -- and all of its accompanied elements -- suggested work, and in my mind, the payoff of socializing with colleagues didn't outweigh the work that would be required to get there.

Although I understand it, I've never quite liked the metaphor that marriage is work.  The term work too often connotes something negative and unwelcome.  Hauling rocks is work.  Basic training is work.  Getting my children out of the toy aisle in Target is work.

The reality, of course, is that work is necessary, beneficial, and rewarding -- especially if you're working on something you love -- but the underlying association of work with undesired difficulty makes me pause at the implied premise, even though every marriage will face phases that are difficult.

If I had to propose an alternate metaphor, then, I'd say that marriage is a garden that needs to be tended.  Weeds need to be yanked, behaviors and words need to be pruned, and kindness needs to be cultivated.  For our actual garden, my husband has easily hauled a hundred wheelbarrow loads of mulch this past week.  It's cost him sweat, one nasty sunburn, and time.  In other words, it's been work. 

Yet, when we look over the garden, anyone can see that it's well-tended.  His effort paid off.

Last night after the kids went to bed, I sat outside on my front porch.  It was the perfect spring evening -- the start of a sunset, a light warm breeze, trees rustling, the scent of cut grass.  I reminisced back to earlier years when I would have gone out with Joel on a night like this -- piling into the car, windows down, radio playing.  No responsibility.  No kids tucked in bed upstairs.  No reason we needed to stay at home.

It was already past eight o'clock -- certainly too late to call a sitter.  Instead, we retreated to the backyard together. 

I looked over at him.  Want me to cut your hair? I asked.  It was random, but within minutes we had set up a make-shift barber shop with an outdoor extension cord, his hair clippers, and a small plastic kid's chair where Joel could sit.  He coached me on how to tip the clippers upward with each pass to achieve the desired taper.  I concentrated carefully, working around his ears, trimming his sideburns, aware of the suntan already visible on the nape of his neck.

He trusts me to do this, I thought, aware that I wouldn't trust myself to do this.

And just like that, I was touched by the realization that he'd still love me, even if I accidentally buzzed his whole head.  And I was happy that we've always been able to joke about the smallest things, like the fact that hair, thankfully, grows back.

It wasn't a necessarily a date -- the two of us outside as dusk settled: me standing as I tensely wielded the clippers, him sitting as his hair fell into the grass beneath our feet -- but it was a glimpse into the fact that little moments, even impromptu ones, are part of tending a marriage, too.


There's still time to join up with Marriage Month.  I'm determined to go on a real date by the month's end.  Will you?  Have you gone on a date already?  Let us know in the comments below!

Visit Top Mommy Blogs To Vote For Me!
Have a second to spare?  Click the icon above if you enjoy Pink Dryer Lint.  One click = one voteThanks for your continued support!

Looking for a good read for the upcoming summer?  Check out Then I Became a Mother on Amazon.  Available in both Kindle and paperback editions!

May 20, 2013

The Littlest, Biggest Cheerleader

While cleaning the garage I found a container of sidewalk chalk.  Not just any container of sidewalk chalk, but the mother of all containers of sidewalk chalk.  Enough sidewalk chalk to draw a seventeen-mile line (give or take a few feet, I'm guessing) before scraping our fingers to nubs on the sidewalk.

It should last us until the end of June.

While my oldest daughter was playing at a friend's house and the youngest was napping, I showed the box of chalk to Brooke.  Her eyes widened and she nodded before I could even ask if she'd like to head outside. 

We sat on the sidewalk side-by-side, drawing.  She chatted about whatever crossed her mind: whether butterflies and moths were related (cousins?), how it's hard to draw rainbows just right, why cats are her favorite animal, at least for that day.

I began to talk freely, too.  I shared about a recent presentation I had made and commented, "I think it went okay."

Without looking up, Brooke replied, "Oh, it definitely went okay."

I stopped chalking, curious about her assertion of my good performance, even when she wasn't there.  Even when she doesn't fully understand what I'm talking about.  "Why do you think it went well?"

Her response was so simple.  "Because it was you, Mommy."

Because it was you.

No other explanation provided, and -- in her mind -- no other explanation needed. 

Right at that moment, I chose to believe her.  If Brooke, my littlest, biggest cheerleader, believes that the presentation went well, then who am I to think otherwise?

Visit Top Mommy Blogs To Vote For Me!
One click each day keeps Pink Dryer Lint in play! 
Simply click on the "vote" icon above.  Thanks for your support!

May 18, 2013

Headlines in Parenting

 
Due to a series of extensive house and yard projects that are languishing in various stages of incompletion, time got away from me this past week.  Happily, there's always time to report on your week if you do it in rapid-fire, headline-style fashion.  Last week on the Pink Dryer Lint Facebook page, I posted this prompt: Tell me about your week in headline style.
 
I asked.  You responded.  Here's a brief recap of my week -- and some of the funniest headlines that you left in FB comments:
 
Mom gets seven hours of sleep, still wants nap.
 
Woman leaves dinner dishes on table overnight, regret follows in morning.
 
Despite 50/50 chance, toddler puts shoes on wrong feet 75% of the time.
 
Child asks "What can I do?" 23 times in one afternoon, mother develops eye twitch.
 
New household record: only 7 Cheerios discovered stuck to kitchen floor after breakfast.
 
Toddler still newly potty-trained, mother nearly demolishes endcap display with cart en route to Target restroom.
 
Mom too tired to go buy bread, gives daughter cake in lunch instead of sandwich.  (Lisa Polley)
 
Mom asked to watch Wall-E for third time in week, DVD now missing.  (Lisa Polley)
 
Three sisters play outside cooperatively for hours, baffled mom rejoices.  (The Golden Spoons)
 
Mother witnesses miracle: toddler and infant nap simultaneously.  (Heather D. Skinner)
 
Now it's your turn.  Would you tell me about your week in headline-format?
 
__________________________________________________________________
 
Looking for a good summertime read?  Check out Then I Became a Mother.  Available in Kindle and paperback editions.
 
Visit Top Mommy Blogs To Vote For Me!

May 15, 2013

When the Pride Sinks In

After celebrating yet another birthday -- this time for our youngest, who turned three earlier this week -- I realized something.  On my children's birthdays, in some small and quiet way, I'm not only celebrating them, but also myself. 

Pride wells up within me, the same sense of accomplishment that used to come over me when the girls, as babies, were weighed in at the pediatrician's office and had gained a few ounces or pound since the last appointment.  I'd nod to the nurse calmly, but inside I was vigoriously patting myself on the back and planting a kiss on my own forehead. 

Would you look at that?  That kid you've got there is growing!  You're doing it!

And every birthday, I think the very same thing.

Do you see that kid there?  The one with cupcake icing on her face?  She's growing!


Each time the candle smoke disappears into the air and the Happy Birthday chorous finishes, that pride sinks in subtly.  These kids of mine, they're growing.

This envigorating and exhasting, glorious and mundane, personal and universal, joyful and terrifying thing called motherhood -- would you look at that? -- I'm doing it.
_________________________________________________________________

Looking for a good read for summer?  Then I Became a Mother is on sale!  
Get your copy today!

Visit Top Mommy Blogs To Vote For Me!