The Angry Wife

I have a huge gripe session going on in my head right now. I have a bruise on my hand from punching the wall yesterday, and I had to buy a new deodorant this morning cuz I threw the other one and broke it. I can hear Bearsie thinking, "Ah, yes, that's the Debbi I know."

My husband admits he doesn't try very hard at our marriage, he doesn't think I can do anything else, but he totally blows his stack if I so much as suggest that our lives aren't perfect and then it comes up that it might be his fault. Look out, Alaska!!

The part I really hate is that we argued much of yesterday, put on our smiles for church, then came home and argued more. It makes me want to retch when we do that.

So, today, I'm doing a lot of deep breathing, some praying, and more eating than I should.

How do you deal with marriage stress? Any relaxation techniques you could share?

About Me

I have noticed some other bloggers have posts "100 Things About Me." I think you are supposed to do it on a certain day of the week, but I'm doing it today. And I'm not doing 100 things today. And please notice it doesn't say "interesting things." So, here we go.

1. I grew up in the same house my dad did, and my kids spent much of their first years in that house.

2. I have several "moms." My real mother was very good about letting me learn A LOT from others.

3. I grew up in a Christian home, but didn't get saved until I was in college.

4. I have known my bestest friend for 24 years.

5. I had a whole bunch of facts about myself ready for this until I started typing - now I can't remember them.

6. My first car was a Subaru Justy - someday I want to own a Mercury Cougar - preferably one from the 60's or 70's.

7. My first job was at McDonald's. It's the only job I've had that I didn't like.

8. My second job was a photography studio.

9. My aunt was a foreman at one of my jobs. I loved it when people badmouthed her, then I 'd tell them I was her niece.

10. The first thing I noticed about my husband was his butt.

11. Our first date was with my brother and his best friend. To this day, I call it a double date, and they get angry.

12. Then best part about my Christmas since I was about eight has been the Christmas Eve party. For the last four years I have hosted them.

13. Since moving to Alaska, I do absolutely nothing on Christmas day. It's wonderful.

14. Autumn is my favorite season.

15. I once visited Maine and spent a whole week looking for a moose. Now, I see moose almost every day.

16. I am no longer terrified of moose.

17. I am the only person in my family who doesn't like Alaska's weather patterns. My kids love the snow.

18. I would love to lose forty-five pounds, but not bad enough to work for it.

19. I love Wal-mart. The nearest one right now is three hours away.

20. I am raising a little me. She is proud to be "Little Debbi." It scares the heck outta me.

21. I am also raising a little Hubby. He is more of a ham than Hubby, though.

22. I like to cook. I like to experiment with food.

23. I may have broken my tailbone once, but we never went to the hospital to find out.

24. I wear socks around the house most of the time.

25. I love pink.

Love - Part 2

Saturday, I was discussing my last blog with my husband. Having asked him a few years ago what his definition of love is, I decided to see if his has evolved, too. So, I asked him. I told him he didn't need to answer right away, but that I would get back to him on it.

On Monday I asked him again. His first answer had been two people living together with the same goals. This time his answer was, "I haven't come up with one, but I was thinking about it yesterday while I was doing the dishes." I accepted doing dishes as a good answer to "What is love?" After all, he is a man of action.

So, here is my definition of love:

1) a commitment to the well-being and happiness of another person

2) being the best person I can be with the goal of inspiring and enabling someone else to be the best person they can be

3) allowing myself to be inspired to greatness by another

4) surrendering my habits and desires to the needs and wants of another

5) Doing the dishes :)

Love - Part 1

Aaah, amore`. I don't think that's right, but you know what I mean. Love.

After my recent deliberations about the difference between who I am and how much I love my husband, which some took to mean I was deliberating on his shortcomings - guess I shouldn't have used him as an example too - oops! haha! - I spent some time thinking about that word - love.

I high school, I was inspired to define love for myself - something I think every teenager should nail down BEFORE she begins dating, looking for a mate, etc. I defined it, wrote it down, and never wavered from that definintion. As a matter of fact, my husband was the first man I said "I love you" to, and soon after I did for the first time, I told him what I meant by that.

This week, I defined love again. No, I did not redefine it. I still stand by my original definition. But I added to it. You know how you see in the dictionary - Love - luv: n. 1) blah, blah, blah 2) blah, blah, blah. That is what my deifintion of love looks like now. And that's a good thing. As we grow and mature, we learn new angles, we change our minds, we add. I like to think I am maturing (although I know several people who would disagree with that concept) and I'll take this new defintion as evidence that I am.

So, what is your definition of love? Do you use it every day, weekly or only on special occasions? Do you know what your husband's definition of love is? Can you share that?

Just As I Am

While discussing my weight loss concerns with an older lady recently, she made a comment that set me thinking. I had mentioned that my husband doesn't notice me no matter what I look like. He didn't say that I was beautiful when I was thin, he never complained that I gained weight and he didn't notice when I lost twenty pounds. Then, she said it. "Have you ever read The Spirit Controlled Temperament? It may just be his personality."

Frankly, I hate that book. And here's why. I'm almost pure choleric. Know what that means? My house gets a certain amount of cleaning, then it's all details. I can't be bothered. Of course, it also means I throw great parties despite the cobwebs in the corners. My husband, on the other hand is mostly phlagmatic (sp? it's been a while since I read the book) with a little bit of melancholic thrown in - yikes! So, he rarely says when he is pleased about something, but has no problem letting you know when something isn't quite right.

And here's where the book comes in. He should accept the not-sparkling house, because my creative juices were flowing that day and I was planning his birthday party - which is in six months. And I need to assume that I look good, or dinner is fine, since he didn't say it was bad. All because of our temperaments. Somehow, I don't think this is what the author meant to do with that book. Yet so many people talk about it that way.

I don't believe temperament plays as big a role in a marriage - or any relationship - as some of us wish it did. "Oh, that's just the way I am," is so easy to say. But how often do we really mean, "I just don't care about you enough to put forth the effort."? I'll admit I often look at my house and think I should do some cleaning - then I don't because there is something more interesting to do. And my husband admits - when I am in tears because I'm so discouraged - that he sometimes think I look really good in a certain outfit. He just didn't say it. Where is the line between "It's how I am" and "I don't love you enough"? I think it's not where I wish it was.

So, I leave you with a quote from another book - "And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him. . . . And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily as to the Lord and not unto men." Colossians 3: 17, 23

Weight Just a Minute

My husband lost ten pounds. I hate him!!! AAARGH!!

Before you yell at me, let me tell you about my husband's and my battle with weight. When we got married, I was happy with my weight. He was a little on the thin side - would have liked to gain about ten pounds. Not a problem.

Three babies and a lot of cheese danishes later, he had gained about four pounds and I had gained sixty. . . . . . . . . (Taking a minute to count to ten here) I don't get it, we both ate the cheese danishes.

Well - FINALLY - in 2004, we took a vacation. He gained twenty pounds in three weeks. I was thrilled!! I finally had a pudgy husband. With that and reaching a few of my own goals, I weighed less than him - until last week.

He got on the scale and started laughing. I knew I didn't want to hear it, but I asked anyway. "I lost ten pounds," he announced. "What do you mean? How?" I asked (accused). " I don't know - it's just gone." IT'S JUST GONE!!??!!?!?!?!?

How does ten pounds just disappear? He has been eating the same things - cookies, soda pop, sandwiches, huge dinners. And he lost ten pounds. So, he says - "Maybe you should come to work with me." But I did - I worked with him three days last week - and I gained five pounds.

So, there it is. He lost ten pounds. Secretly, I'm happy because I'm proud that I'm married to a great bod - I mean, guy. But I wish it were so easy for me to look that great for him. So, I'm off to my treadmill and weights - again. Wish me luck!!

Basking in a Rare Moment

I called my husband last night. It was one of those, "Honey, could you get something for me?" calls. What was unusual about this one was that he was at home. I was in bed. I had left my extra blanket in the living room, and thought he could bring it to me. So, I picked up his cell phone and called him in the living room. Unfortuantely, the cell phone gets terrible reception in our room, so he could hardly hear me. I hung up, threw on a robe, and started for the stairs. As I arrived in the living room, there he stood with my blanket. He said, "I heard, 'This is your wife,' and I thought 'I know what she wants.'" So, I am enjoying the memory of a very rare moment when a husband actually gets it right - he knows what she wants and he gets it for her. I have a feeling this memory better last a long time. :)

Safe In The Arms Of Jesus

Safe In The Arms Of Jesus

by Fanny J. Crosby

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast,

There by His love o'ershaded, Sweetly my soul shall rest.

Hark! 'tis the voice of angels, Borne in a song to me,

Over the fields of Glory, Over the jasper sea.

Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe from corroding care,

Safe from the world's temptations, Sin cannot harm me there.

Free from the blight of sorrow, Free from my doubts and fears;

Only a few more trials, Only a few more tears!

Jesus my heart's dear refuge, Jesus has died for me;

Firm on the Rock of Ages, Ever my trust shall be.

Here let me wait with patience, Wait till the night is o'er,

Wait til I see the morning Break on the golden shore.

Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe on His gentle breast,

There by His love o'er shaded, Sweetly my soul shall rest.

A Tale From the Dark Side

The anniversary was terrible. I spent all day believing he would buy me flowers or a candy bar. When he left in the morning, we wished each other a happy anniversary. On his way home from work, he called because he was going to vote. We discussed that for about ten minutes, and when he arrived home he was empty handed. When I gave him his anniversary gift, he admitted that he had thought about getting me something, then forgotten. He felt like an idiot. At this point, I agree with him. So in the middle of the night, as I was trying to figure out how to state my situation - to anyone, even my self - without actually voicing the painful events again, I came up with this parable.

Imagine, if you will, that life is a big cold concrete floor. Love is a rug. Each person has a rug, maybe a persian rug, maybe one of those little area rag rugs; everyone's rug is different. We wander around looking for someone for whom we can put down our rug. Of course, in the process, we are looking for someone who has a rug that we like.

Your body, meanwhile, is other parts of what makes up a good marriage - the legs of trust and respect, the stomach of good cooking - or enjoying the same restaurants, the heart of appreciation, the brain of logic, the arms of acceptance. You get the picture.

So, you find someone. You each put down your rug and stand on the other's. Oh, it's so nice to not be standing alone on that cold floor anymore. Of course, you each take care of the rug the other is standing on - vacuum it, cut any frays off, steam clean it every once in a while. And you do all you can not to make it too hard for the other person to keep what is technically their rug in good shape. Don't stand on it with muddy shoes, don't spill red Kool-aid on it. Together, you go through life loving each other and being gentle with each other's love.

Well, last year, my husband pulled his rug out from under me. I crashed to the floor, shattering all trust and respect. Over the next few weeks, I discovered that he had been poised to do this throughout our whole marriage. It seems he was just waiting for me to look down at his hands, so that I would actually see him holding the corners as he yanked them.

Trust and respect do not heal as quickly as physical legs. I am still laying on the cold floor, waiting for someone to help me. My husband stands over me, holding his rug, and I truly believe he wants me to stand on it - he hasn't put it down for someone else - but he does nothing to help me get up. He just stands there and looks at me as I try to get to my feet with two broken legs. Neither of us knows what to do.

I have been to the Great Physician, and he does help sometimes, but then the Devil comes along and smacks my legs with a big stck. And I'm back down, and the pain is just as raw as the day it happened.

I don't have an ending for this parable, because I am living in the middle of it. Boy, I have dropped the "Perfect-Wife" ball all at once, haven't I? Honestly, I have never discussed our situation with anyone but my husband and God. I do not regret that decision, but I am beginning to think that I need to now. Don't worry, you gals won't have to be my pshychiatrists.

So, how do you end a blog like this? "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1 If I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, I would not need to trust God. I think I need to stand still and look up. Then I'll quit bumping into the tunnel walls, and God can bring the light to me. I hope that is true.

Back Up The Bridal Train

I am so embarassed. We need a reality check at this blog, and I'll gladly give it to you. Ladies, it's confession time.

Yesterday, I went on some errands. I have been doing these same errands every week for a month, trying to get my husband's business affairs in order. It has been truly frustrating, partly because others are dragging their feet, and partly because I have been fighting like heck to not have to deal with his business (It isn't working). Finally, yesterday, I admitted I need to take over the office even though I don't think I know how. That was very depressing.

I came home to a disaster area - dishes aren't done, kids haven't picked up their toys in three days, school work is behind, vacuuming was done last - uhhhh - no idea. As I brought in some groceries, I almost succumbed to tears. I wanted to fold up on the floor for a few hours - maybe suck my thumb :).

I didn't. Instead, after doing a load of dishes and starting some laundry, I set the kids on their school and checked my e-mail. I opened one to find that a certain person loves my blog. I "sound like a super-mom, super-wife." She can tell that "you are at peace and you love every member of your family."

So, here's the truth. I am not nearly as peaceful as I'd like to be. There are days I'd sell all my kids - and days I'd pay someone to take them. As for my husband, many days I could take him or leave him.

Many of these feelings are my faults, not theirs. Most of the time, when my kids drive me nuts, it's because they've picked up my bad habits that drive me nuts. My husband has not changed since I was dating him, so I cannot legitimately complain about him. I knew what he is, and I chose him anyway. And that is why I started this blog - it is an attempt to dwell on the positive and to encourage myself out of the negative. Have I created an unreal world? I'm not living Cinderella's "Happily-ever-after." Is it bad to not blog about the down side? Hmmm.

Our Anniversary

I arrived at our desk this morning and noticed that our anniversary is circled on the calendar. This was a bit of a surprise because my husband doesn't remember it unless I mention it. Then I remembered that his dad called yesterday to wish us a happy anniversary. So, Tuesday is circled, with little spiky things around it - like a sunshine.

I have to admit I have kind of set my husband up this year. Every year, by this time, I have been asking him for at least two weeks what we are going to do. This has been for two reasons. If he forgot, I'd be devastated, and I usually have to take care of the details - babysitter, etc. - and I don't want to have to do it at the last minute.

But this year has been rough. At my lowest point, I came to the conclusion that there is nothing to celebrate on our anniversary (yes, I'm a bit of a drama queen). I'm tired and I want him to love me enough to take care of our anniversary for a change. I want to be taken care of. It is so hard to trust him with this. I have a feeling the kids will be going out to our anniversary dinner with us. I will refuse to go to McDonald's, though.

As I think back, my favorite anniversay was when we went out for dinner, then went to a few antique shops. He bought me two teacups for my collection. It was a great night.

What was your best anniversary? What would be your dream anniversary celebration?

My dream anniversary would be a huge party at one of the local fancy restaurants with all my friends there - honoring us. I think that's a little bit more of the drama queen thing coming out.