Six years ago...

...I met my husband at a local bar in downtown Modesto. It was a Saturday night, June 11th, and the day before I had seen my junior high students walk the stage at graduation. It was the weekend, finally, and I was out having fun with my sister and my best friend, Julie. We sat at the bar, talking and laughing and telling crazy stories, just trying to forget the busy week we'd all just been through. Suddenly, a man walked up to us and pulled out the Schmooze card.

He was a pretty slick talker, to be sure, and had that confidence and swagger that many women find attractive-- until they realize that it's actually a mixture of braggadocio, machismo, and ego that tends to grate on the nerves after a very short time. I had him pegged within a few minutes; it wasn't my first trip around the block, after all.

But while we all bantered back and forth, I noticed a tall, fit-looking guy standing several feet away, almost as if he were waiting for something... or someone. I asked the first guy, Dave, "Is that your friend over there?" And he said, "Yeah, that's my buddy Joel." I took that first step, born partly of liquid courage and partly of curiosity, tinged with just a hint of something even deeper, stronger, and smiled at him, calling out, "Joel, come on over!"

And the rest, as they say, is history... or at least, a history that is still being told. :)

Re-Kindle...

Joel has been very sweet with me lately. I mentioned that I needed to get a watch because (a) I don't own one, and (b) I have to take minutes at meetings and don't want to bring out my cell phone to keep time, and guess what he did? Yep, he went out to get me a watch and chose this lovely Skagen women's watch for me. I know he has good taste, but even I was surprised at his choice; it was very classic, yet modern and stylish.



Then, yesterday evening he comes home and he has this crafty look on his face, while holding his hands behind his back. I said, "Please don't tell me you spent more money on me, Joel..." I know, I know-- how ungrateful of me! But it's so hard to accept gifts from him when we are struggling with money issues. It feels very irresponsible, even when I know that he earned "extra" (!) money through an outside contract job this week and the money spent isn't taking money away from paying our regular bills. Still... it's so hard to be gracious about it. I tried, though! Anyway, he whips out my latest gift-- a Kindle! He already downloaded some free books on there, like Sense and Sensibility and Emma, so now I can read wherever I am without lugging around a bunch of books. Can't wait to get started... and buy a cute cover/stand for it, too! I hope he understands that I love him even without the gifts, expensive or not. :)

Isn't It Romantic

Romance... what a strange word to think about, really. It encompasses so many emotions and actions, and means such different things to each person that you can't really define it in a simple phrase. For my husband, romance is something similar to the image that the media has pushed on us for marketing purposes for our entire lives: Flowers, chocolate, a nice dinner, expensive gifts, jewelry, weekend trips, and so on. He can't seem to separate the idea of romance from a cost factor; if it doesn't cost a lot, it must not be romantic. To him, inexpensive flowers aren't romantic; a date night that involves coupons can't be romantic; and if for some reason you think that you don't need money to be romantic, you must be either a cheapskate or broke.

To me, on the other hand, romance involves far less money and far more attention to the needs of your partner, and consideration of their likes and dislikes. Romance for me would involve a situation where my husband wakes up in the middle of the night and tends to the baby so that I can sleep in, or gets up in the morning and makes breakfast for all of us so that I can get a break from the usual chore. It would be romantic if he left a note on my desk saying how much he loved me, or texted me a sweet little message out of the blue, or brought me home a bottle of my favorite wine so that we could share it later that evening. It doesn't take much, really, in my view; just a thoughtfulness and a sense of caring or affection that expresses itself in simple, everyday situations instead of grand gestures that take on a life of their own.



This week, for instance, Joel did something that I consider one of the most romantic things I've ever seen him do... I was having a pretty bad day for some reason, just feeling run-down, exhausted, drained, and dealing with a migraine as well. I was having a hard time dealing with Ethan's energetic interactions and trying to lie down on the couch and rest, when Joel came out of his office and said that he was going to Walgreen's. I just murmured "okay" and pushed play on Ethan's movie, expecting Joel to leave my rambunctious two-year-old with me while he drove away. Moments later, I heard him taking Ethan out to the car... and then drive away together. Even when they got home later, he took Ethan outside to play for a little bit longer, just so that I could have a bit more time to recover. I was so impressed, and humbled, and shocked, and deeply pleased by his gesture. It meant so much to me that he did that without even asking.

I know that for some people, that might not be so far out of the realms of possibility that it would seem like a big deal, but I can count on one hand the number of times he has taken Ethan out *by himself* since Ethan was born. One hand. So that is a big thing for us, and I totally appreciate it for what it is-- romantic, and generous, and loving. Now, if I can just figure out how to get a repeat without having to conjure up another migraine....

Love and Loss

This page is dedicated to my nephew, Nathaniel Ray, and his mother. He started growing inside her six and a half months ago... and was lost to her this week. We didn't get a chance to know him, but he is loved and will always be remembered. I cannot imagine going through such a loss, and I can only offer my unending love and support to my sister. I'm sorry your first experience of being a mother was so filled with grief, but I feel so honored to have shared at least those few moments with you and Nathaniel.



I'd like to find something for my sister that will help her through this grieving process. Her nurses are already making her a memorial book about Nathaniel, but I was also thinking about some sort of necklace or bracelet. A website called www.labelledame.com offers a wide range of healing jewelry for miscarriage, infant loss, fertility, sympathy, pregnancy and birth. Not only do they have beautiful and unique memorial gifts, but the author has a special gift for putting into words the thoughts and feelings of someone who has lost a child during pregnancy. I especially loved her writing about the butterfly as a symbol of the soul, and "the hope that the transformation that loss brings into our life, can result in something different, something beautiful."


A "footprints on my heart" necklace from La Belle Dame.

Anniversary

Today is the third anniversary of our wedding. I sometimes find it hard to believe that we've actually only known each other five years, and been married such a relatively short time, because it seems like I've known this man forever. Other days, I feel like I'm only just scratching the surface of who he really is, what he believes and feels, and how he looks at life. I guess that's the dichotomy that keeps us intrigued and moving forward in relationships, though; the contrast between feeling like you've known and loved someone your whole life, and then feeling like this person is a brand-new treasure that you get to open and explore, discovering them anew on a regular basis. Frustrating sometimes, sure, but also invigorating and comforting, and never dull.

This is one of my favorite memories from our wedding vows... I may have cried a touch during this part.
"Melanie and Joel, please take each other’s hands, and hold them so you can see the gift that they are to you. These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you. These are the hands that will work alongside yours, as together you build your future. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other. These are the hands that will hold you when fear and grief temporarily comes your way. These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow, and tears of joy. These are the hands that will tenderly hold your children. These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it. And lastly, these are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours."

Mr. Right vs. Mr. Good Enough

I just stumbled across the most interesting article, just in time for Valentine's Day. In it, the author discusses why she has come to the conclusion that it is sometimes better to settle for someone who may not come up to the skyscraper-high expectations that you and I and the Western world have set for love, marriage, and happily-ever-after. Here's a short clip from her article "Marry Him!", published in The Atlantic (March 2008):

"Obviously, I wasn’t always an advocate of settling. In fact, it took not settling to make me realize that settling is the better option, and even though settling is a rampant phenomenon, talking about it in a positive light makes people profoundly uncomfortable. Whenever I make the case for settling, people look at me with creased brows of disapproval or frowns of disappointment, the way a child might look at an older sibling who just informed her that Jerry’s Kids aren’t going to walk, even if you send them money. It’s not only politically incorrect to get behind settling, it’s downright un-American. Our culture tells us to keep our eyes on the prize (while our mothers, who know better, tell us not to be so picky), and the theme of holding out for true love (whatever that is—look at the divorce rate) permeates our collective mentality."

I found this interesting , because she is right: We DO have ridiculous standards for love and for our mates, and we drag those standards right over the altar with us into family life, making it almost impossible to be happy. It's as if we sabotage our own chances for happiness by making it so difficult for anything to be enough... as if we have to have glamour and magic and pure ecstatic joy every single day in order to have a happy, satisfied, contented life. Well, do we expect the same thing from our friends? Do we denigrate friendship the moment someone disagrees with us or eject them from our lives every time they lick their lips the wrong way or snort while laughing? Do we expect our own children to be perfectly adorable and loving and kind at all times, and then belittle parenting or reject family life when they act out or talk back to us? If we do, we shouldn't; we ourselves can't be held to those same standards of perfection, so who are we to demand others do so? Let's show a little love, here, people!

I only disagree when the author starts talking about "sub-par" partners and "sub-par" father figures. Just because someone doesn't fit the exact mold of Mr. Right, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Awesome, doesn't mean that they are sub-par; it just means they're different. And in the end, is that so bad? What's more important: To find a loving and stable and happy home in which to raise a family and share a partnership, or to find that perfect person with everything you desire and nothing you don't, at all costs? All I can say is, if my husband had waited for the perfect woman, he'd still be single.

So think about it... maybe "settling" isn't the term we ought to be using; maybe it would be more accurate to say that we are "accepting" someone, faults and all, and committing to love and honor them as human beings instead of waiting forever to find the Ideal Man or Woman... who doesn't really exist.

On that note, Happy Valentine's Day! Or, for those of you against the notion: