Some Marriage Thoughts

I've been thinking a lot about marriage lately.

It seems to be coming up in conversations with friends, and in blogs I've been reading.  

Funny, when life seems to synthesize things, how the same topic creeps into my consciousness from different and disconnected sources.

Funny, too, how much I've needed it right now.

I am blessed to be part of a pretty fantastic marriage.

There are times when we look at each other, and smile, and say

"I think we're pretty lucky...I don't think it comes this easy for most."

The problem is, those times have been happening less frequently.

In fact, I don't think either of us would say it's coming easy these days.

We said those words...

those words about better or worse, sickness and health, happiness and sorrow.

Does anyone really know what it will mean 

to hold 

through the worse, the sickness, the sorrow when they say those words?

How can we?

James has been sick a lot this winter.

Nothing serious, but a series of colds, ear infections, sniffles, exhaustion.

Nothing to worry about, but enough that he's just not been able to do a lot of the things that he usually does.

(and he usually does a LOT!)

And I've been convicted lately that I haven't done a good job of loving him.

I have loved what he can do for me.

And as that list has become shorter

so has my patience.

In talking with a friend about marriage, and choosing a partner, I was struck as she shared the advice of another, who said that regardless of all the little details and practicalities that could be considered in a partnership, what it really comes down to is:

This is the person that I love.

And because I love this person, and want to spend my life with this person, we'll work through those challenging areas in which our partnership might not be so ideal.

And that's what struck me.

I have not done a good job at loving James.

I have loved his suppers, and his diaper washing, and his parenting.

But when he hasn't felt up to delivering?

I've been downright frustrated and annoyed.

And so, as Valentines Day approaches

(not that I think we should hang our romances on one cold day in February)

I am going to try harder to adore that guy.

I am going to find ways to show and tell him that I love him, 

even if the dishes aren't done and I'm tired and frustrated.

'Cause this is the person that I chose.

 This is the person that I love.

________________

For some more thoughts on marriage, check out

*Ann Voskamp, How to {make} Love 

*Simple Mom, How to Teach Him to Romance You 

*Deep Into Love, Love Sometimes Gets Married - A Prayer

A Day's Delights

Today was one of those days that just couldn't have been much better.

One of those wonderful, ordinary, lovely days in which nothing extra special happens, but is full of all kinds of things that are so very special.

Today was a long time coming, the first day I've had off after working 10 in a row.

And it was good.  

Kind of like God said it would be when he mandated rest.

That God.  So wise.

The Saint of a husband of mine let me sleep in.

Around 9:00, two smiling faces accompanied a giant cup of coffee into my bedroom.

And we all crawled in, and snuggled, and sang "head and shoulders knees and toes", and tickled, and giggled, and the coffee got cold, and I couldn't have been happier.

(Haydon touched his own head for the first time today as we sang - I was so excited to see him making that connection!)

Then I and the boy went for a walk down Ottawa Street.

And I love Ottawa Street.

(as my husband said the other day - I wish there were more "love" words in the English language, 'cause when I see that written down, it looks silly putting love next to a street when 

I love God 

and I love my son 

and I love good books

...but you get the idea)

We strolled, and we browsed, and we chatted with shop-owners and artists, and I bought clothes, and my boy got to play, and then we walked home in the sunshine 'cause I missed the bus by about 30 seconds, and figured I might as well spend the next half hour getting some exercise in the sunshine rather than standing in the cold at a bus stop.

As we walked, we sang, 'cause that's just what I do.

And we danced, 'cause I tend to do that too.

And I'm sure I looked ridiculous singing and dancing my way down Cannon Street with a stroller.

And I'm sure I couldn't care less.

Haydon was tired.

He wanted to sleep so badly.

And I wanted him to stay awake and have lunch before his nap so badly.

So I kept tickling him, and singing louder, and involving the stroller in my dance.

And he kept giggling, and squirming, and yawning...

And somehow managed to sleep and laugh at the same time, twitching and smiling as I played with his ear lobes or poked his belly.

After lunch, that St. James got home.

And we waited for the poor little boy to put himself to sleep (sometimes he does so well, other times it seems to take forever - today he managed to poo just after I put him down, prolonging the whole thing even more by throwing a bum change into the mix).

Then that Saintly guy and I had a nap of our own.

Mmmmm.  Naps are so good.

And I tip-toed out before either of those great guys woke up, and I snuck into the bath and enjoyed a few minutes of peace and quiet and hot water before I trudged downstairs with a load of dirty diapers.

My mama got me a gift card for my birthday, and I asked St. James if he minded if I ran to the store for a bit to buy some clothes I needed (I use that word liberally.  we don't really know need).

And of course, he said yes.

And of course, when I walked in the door two hours later, dinner was ready.

Chicken parmagiana.

And he kissed me, and put on his coat, and went to work and didn't even get to eat it with us.

(He'll be fed at work - he can pick off the restaurant's menu.  It's not as bad as I made it sound)

but it sure is as good as I made it sound.  

Haydon loved it - he ate a whole chicken breast!

And then he played while I tidied.

And we headed upstairs, and got ready for bed, and I blew raspberries on his chubby little tummy as we put on his pjs.

And read our stories.

And nursed, and prayed.

And hugged, and kissed.

And tucked in.

And now, I sit, after doing those tasks that seem mundane, but mean that we're alive - laundry, dishes.

In the background, Crosby, Stills &Nash sing "Our house, is a very very very fine house!" over the hum of the dishwasher.

To one side is a beautiful vase of bright orange and red Gerber daisies - a birthday gift from my mom-in-law,

on the other a sleeping, sighing dog.

My heart is so full.

I am so blessed.  

Morning Tunes

It's a good thing there's music in this life.  Not sure what I'd do otherwise.

We sleep less in this house lately then we did in Haydon's first month.  The only thing that made that month harder is that now I've at least got breastfeeding figured out, and I'm not in pain from labour.  

Last night was particularly rough.  We seem to have returned this week to a desire for playtime in the middle of the night.  I'd gotten to the point that I could handle multiple night wakings.  James would bring him to me, he'd nurse back to sleep, I'd wake up in a fog 45 minutes later and carry him back to his crib (I can't sleep when he's in our bed, otherwise we'd just cosleep).   Getting up multiple times had become manageable...but being up for 1-2 hours in the middle of the night I just can't handle.  Last night (this morning?), Haydon got up at around 2, we nursed, then he decided it was playtime...James came in at 3 and said he needed me to take over.  Then he went downstairs and made himself hotdogs????  I think I got him back down around 3:30, then we were up for the day at 5:30.

It's hard to remember that James and I are allies, not adversaries, in this sleep war.  We do a pretty good job of taking turns and supporting each other, but, as the sleepiness increases, so does the selfishness.  Thankfully, we are pretty reasonable and level-headed - even in our disagreements.  This morning, we both lay in bed with Haydon crawling all over us, discussing who's turn it was to get up.  James had gotten up the past two mornings...but my "sleep ins" still required me to be up by 7 and getting ready for the day.  He got to sleep in 'til 8:30 on Tuesday...I'm green with envy.  Learning that it's important to express my needs/desires at time other than when we're both exhausted, begrudging the thought of having to crawl out of our warm cozy bed.  Lunch will be a better time to say that I need a day for "sleep in" to mean more than sleep 'til I need to get up for work.

In general we've learned that discussing sleep needs and night strategies is the best way to make sure that we share the load and don't get resentful...'cause in the middle of the night, I'm pretty sure it's NEVER my turn.  Deciding as we crawl into bed who will respond when avoids those argusations about who's been up more in the night while the crying crescendos from the next room.

Back to the music.  There were literally tears in my eyes as I changed the diaper this morning and stumbled down the stairs.  I grabbed my ipod.  I have a playlist called "morning tunes."  I made it long before I had a baby.  The original thought was that these were songs that would set my mind in the direction I'd like my day to take.  This morning, as I was pretty sure it was impossible to care for this needy little being in my sleepy stupor, the song that came on first was an oldie but a goodie by Audio Adrenaline..."If I keep my eyes on Jesus, I can walk on water...", and a few songs later, the reminder that "strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord..."

And so, with music blaring, I will get through this day.  By the grace of God, I will love this teething boy and his snoring daddy.  Doesn't mean it's easy...

Five Years Ago...

I married my best friend!