notes from the married front (part one)

So this has been my dilemma this past several months.  I don't like writing any less than I did when I was posting daily... but have been incredibly reticent to write like I used to.  For one, my stories nearly always tend to involve this whole other person in them.  This person is very open with me, but tends to be far more private with the rest of the world than I am.  He gave me permission when we were first married to continue to be myself with the blog, that is, to continue to write just like I used to.  After all, he said, in the beginning, it was my writing on the blog -- one post in particular --that brought about the big email that started us on our way to where we are now.  (Crazy, huh?). 

I've always had permission, I've just been hesitant to use it.

That, and I've wondered sometimes if life now is all that interesting.  Most of my pals here online are single.  I wasn't sure if life now is anything one would want to read about.  A single friend recently encouraged me that it's kind of fun reading about the married antics, that it's actually kind of encouraging, given how many marriages don't sound all that fun.

So here I am.  Few thoughts buzzing around, some things I've been learning (learning, always always learning!).

Before I jump into this, the disclaimer: I've been married a little more than eight months at this point.  I don't know much.  Newly marrieds are often idealistic, and no couple more so than J and I -- an INFJ and an ENFJ respectively.  (We did some study on personality type before we were married, and had to laugh as we were reading about the category we both fall into -- the idealists.  It was weird to basically see many of our tendencies spelled out.  I highly recommend giving these tests a go -- they're pretty amazing, and it's just fun to learn more about yourself.) 

But the deal is -- I know that I don't know it all.  Or even most of it.  I just want to share some of the things I'm learning, some of the things I'm trying to figure out.  Etc., etc.

******

As a single person, whenever I'd see the man in black and the woman in white walk back down the aisle out of the church, grinning ear to ear, I'd sigh a little to myself.  There they go, off into their happily-ever-after.  And here I am.  Still on my own.

The thought would soon pass -- until some goofy older guy would ask when I'd get myself a man, at which point I'd console myself with some cake -- but I'm not that far this side of the altar that I don't remember what that felt like sometimes.  To be envying them just a little, even as you're trying so hard not to.  To be doubting God a little or a lot, even as you're trying to trust that he knows you, that he knows what's best and how to bring that about.

I'll never forget my friend Grace's wedding.  I have been friends with Grace and Andy since their beginnings as a couple, and couldn't have been more ecstatic that their big day had finally come, or more honored to be a bridesmaid.  After the wedding, they had a lovely reception.  Except -- I had no one to sit with.  I had assumed that there was a table set aside for the bridal party, as had my parents, so they didn't save me a spot.  There wasn't a table set aside.  I ended up awkwardly pulling up a chair at a table half-full of people I'd never met before in my life, sitting there feeling lonely and sad and inwardly cursing the guy who had recently dumped me.  I ended up getting over it and haltingly asking the table of eight with all my friends (and their boyfriends) in it to make it a table of nine, which they gladly did, thank God.  Grace and Andy have been married two years and I still remember exactly how that felt.  Awful.

Before I was married, I had a tendency to fully idealize the couple.  It's not hard to do.  Candlelight is flickering, vows are being spoken, she's never looked lovelier and he's never looked more happy.  I assumed that they were all headed for their happily-ever-after. 

A lot of them weren't, in the end.  I know people not married much longer than J and I who are most likely going to get a divorce.  I know others that just don't seem like they're enjoying life with each other very much.

One of the things I see here on the other side of the fence here in Marriageland is that being married doesn't make you compatible, or good friends/playmates, or respectful, or self-sacrificing, or a good match.  It definitely doesn't make you perfect.  It just makes you bound for life.  I used to think that everyone who was married had entered that state because they were brilliant companions for each other.  It's not necessarily the case.

The truth is that we have to learn how to be those things for each other.   Some have a much harder time of it.  I believe that some marriages are somewhat ill-advised due to the reasons for the marriage (the white dress is not a good one) and the compatibility of the people entering it -- but the fact is that no matter how great a match a couple is when they begin, not one of them is exempt from making adjustments, big and small, for the sake of their marriage.  It's part of the deal.

Now, I have to be honest here and say that when I walked down the aisle, I walked toward the only man that I wanted to share my life with.  I feel like I've won the lottery in that department.  I've said it before, but I still can't believe this is my life.  When people complain about their husbands, I can't really relate.  I married a great guy.  I'm happier than I've ever been, and I know how good I have it.  Justin gets haircuts a little more often than he did before, and he has fewer holes in his T-shirts, but he's essentially the same man I married, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I'm sure I've changed in small ways, but I'm essentially the same girl who walked down the aisle to Justin.

Some of the not-great things about me haven't changed, either -- as much as I wish they were totally different -- those kinds of softenings tend to happen by degrees over time.  One of the things that gives me such peace is when I apologize for some moment of not-at-my-best-ness.  Justin's response is usually something like this: "Buddy, I know you.  I knew you when I married you.  I knew this was what I was signing up for.  And it's okay.  We're okay.  I love you."

Yeah, I'm not kidding when I say that I have it really good.

We make adjustments, but in most cases who we are -- our deep-down tendencies and preferences -- that doesn't change to a great degree.  Justin tries to be a good sport, but I see an antsy look in his eyes when we've hit our third store in the mall -- so if I'm headed out for a big trip, I go on my own.  I have learned to appreciate and enjoy football -- profootballtalk.com and nfl.com are now a regular stops of mine -- but Justin knows I'm only good for about one game on a Sunday, unless there's a BIG one other than the Seahawks, in which case we'll watch two.  Although we try hard, sometimes we don't communicate like we want to.  Sometimes I respond emotionally and get overly feisty. Sometimes Justin doesn't know where the line is when he's jokingly provoking me. 

Just this past week we abruptly finished a pool game when I was highly oversensitive to Justin's post-win taunt.  But seriously!  The guy's ape-like arms are a huge advantage, and I'd been struggling!  It was a major improvement over when we were playing poker heads-up and I got so mad at being bullied that I threw all my cards at Justin, though, so I'm impressed at our growth.  

Yes, that bump is funny now.  We're headed down to the pool hall later this week to give it another go. 

The point is, we're not perfect.  Sometimes petty things don't seem so small at the moment, and sometimes it takes a while before these things become funny.  But Justin and I have benefited from the fact that we knew each other well before we took the leap, and although there have been a few surprises, we knew for the most part what we were signing up for, and the good stuff so clearly outweighed any potential difficulties that it wasn't hard to choose the whole package. 

Even in the moments when the difficulties rear their head, we remember this.  And there's a very real, tangible grace there.  Justin's stuff isn't all that scary to me.  Mine isn't all that bad to him.  We're learning how to support each other where the other is weak, how to cheer each other on in our strengths.  No one's keeping score.  And we're finding Team Lawlis quite the team.

One of the best things I've learned during this first season of our marriage is that the bumps we hit aren't as scary as I thought they'd be when we first began our marriage.  When you first get married, you DREAD that first argument, those initial misunderstandings.  You want to do it all right, never mess up.  But the bumps have actually brought some very deep peace, because, while those occasionally messy moments aren't fun, they teach you that you don't have to be perfect all the time to have a happy marriage.  You find that love and grace really do exist, that you don't have to achieve perfection to live in their embrace.

When we've hit our little newlywed bumps, I've never once doubted that I chose the very best for myself when I chose Justin.  The bumps confirm it.  There is no one I'd rather be learning all this stuff with -- no one who forgives so easy or whom I find so easy to forgive.  And the rest of the time -- which is the great majority of the time -- I'm having more fun than I've ever had, whether we're laughing at each other as we talk or we're just all snuggled up in bed (sometimes this is one and the same scenario).

Not perfect.  Perfect for each other.  Not quite the cliche I always thought it was.

I'll write more about this marriage craziness when I can.  I'm excited to finally have given myself permission to write about this journey, but also know it's not really advisable to do it all in one post, so goodbye for now.

garage-saling with the professionals

Team Lawlis drove home a few weekends ago, stayed with my folks, and caught up with friends for a few days.  Part of this revelry involved garage-saling with Chris.

This is Chris.  Note the classy use of my garter at our wedding.



Chris is forsaking us; is moving to glamorous California.  Apparently, we're not good enough in comparison to palm trees and sandy beaches and eating disorders.  So, to celebrate his impending demise departure, we decided to accompany him on his garage sale quest.

First thing you need to know: to Chris, if anything is worth doing, it had better be done in a suit.  Whether searching for reduced-price crap on someone's lawn, or a wife and career out on the side of the road, you need to look the part.



Justin and I were slummin' it -- we showed up in our usual civilian garb -- but Chris was not one to disappoint.  Suit and tie, kids.  Suit and tie.

A few snippets from our little adventure:

Chris, at our first stop: "How much for the lot?"

Man running garage sale: "What?"

Chris: "How much, for everything here?"

Man: "One thousand, nine hundred and ninety five dollars."

Chris: "I'll give you fifty cents."

At our next garage sale, my fine husband found a vampire cape which he purchased for $1US.  He proceeded to wear it to each garage sale that followed, which elicited strange looks at some sales, and open staring at others.

Justin and Chris were discussing a potential purchase at one house and the lady walked up to them, in vampire cape and three-piece suit, respectively, and said, "Hi there.  What's the occasion?" 

They looked at her as if that were the strangest question in the world.  "What occasion?" they asked.  "We're garage saling." 

She then felt awkward to have asked, mumbled a "Sorry," and returned to her lawn chair in the garage.  It was one of the more tangible awkward moments I've been able to enjoy in a while.  That, and when Chris asked at one house if they were selling pot.

Chris purchased a fan from the Philipines for fifty cents, not to keep, but to barter with at the next garage sale.  He pointed to an item, requested its price from its owner, and then had Justin ever-so-suavely pull the fan from the inner pocket of his suit and display it ever-so-tantalizingly.

(Justin has come in handy before.  Once he carried around a clipboard, jotting down notes for Chris as they were perusing.  Chris would point; Justin would say to the seller: "The gentleman would like to make you a very generous offer," write down fifty cents on a sheet of paper, fold it up, and hand it to the person.)

While we were saling, Chris also tried to garner a book of Shakespeare plays by delighting a garage-saling crowd with a dramatic reading: "Act One..."  I thought he did the Bard justice, but they insisted on him paying 38 cents for the book.

By the way, random thought, I think this T-shirt is brilliant.  With that, I leave you.  (There was pretty much no way to wrap up this random post, and I really do like the T-shirt.)

it’s probably a poor idea to throw a baseball mitt at your husband’s head (even if he deserves it)

This is how the "Welcome to America and Our Awesomeness/Congratulations on Fleeing Canada" sign should have looked.

Justin is at work.  I am not.  Current mood: Lazy.  Major accomplishments for the day -- coming in 1st in a big online poker tourney, which always makes me feel good, and doing a load of laundry.  Impressive.  A post is just the thing to complete my industrious trifecta.

The two of us had a really fun weekend.  Yesterday we bought J a mitt and went down to Cornwall Park to play catch for a while.  We also brought a blanket and read for a while once my arm got tired (I try WAY too hard not to throw like a girl, which wears me out rather quickly).  Justin bought Love in the Time of Cholera during our last used book binge, but I picked it up first and am really enjoying the read.

Someone, I won't say WHO (it was Justin), decided it would be a good idea to start a grass fight, pinning me down and throwing fistfuls of torn grass in my face and hair.  The struggle probably lasted a little longer than it should have, with me struggling against this big dumb animal and his ape-like arms.  Not fair.  I lose EVERY wrestling match.  I decided the only just retribution for grass down my pants and shirt was to throw his shoes as far as I could, and then throw his mitt at him as he ran to retrieve them. 

Unfortunately, it hit him right in the neck/head area -- not the hind-quarters area as I'd intended -- and the firstborn-sibling pleasure of having "gotten" the other person disolved quickly into "Oh, crap, that probably hurt.  I bet I'm going to get busted."  Although a look of irritation immediately crossed his face, as in "I can't believe you just did that -- what the hell is wrong with you?", it was fleeting, and we proceeded to enjoy the rest of our slow and easy-going afternoon.

We've been married eight months now, and I am having the time of my life.  I don't want to get too "mushy-gushy," as my brother and I used to call it when we were little, but I am so deeply grateful to have such a companion.  I'm not sure what I thought married life would be like, but I sure didn't expect to laugh this often or play this hard.  What a playmate I got in my husband, jumping on the bed to wake me up from a nap, yelling, "Wake up!  I want you to come play with me!!"  I didn't expect to hear "I love you, Cuteface!" -- or so many reasons why -- so regularly and with such heartfeltness.   I didn't expect to be so like-minded with someone, or to be able to find such easy compromises in the areas where we differ.  Justin dispenses grace to me so easily, it's impossible for me not to know how loved I am.  We have our moments, to be sure, but they are few and far between, and the rest is so... easy.  Fun.  Deeply satisfying.

I keep on looking around, going, "How, exactly, did this become my life?"  I'm trying my best not to take it for granted, to savor each moment's sweetness.

Yes, even pinned down on a blanket with a mouth full of grass.

visiting our great neighbor to the north

The Mr. and I decided to go to Canada yesterday.  The border guard was a little skeptical that we were traveling into Canada in order to go to a movie, but it was the truth.  Langley has a kick-ass theater called the Colossus.  Justin had never beheld its glory, and it was time for the movie-loving pilgrim to finally see Mecca.

At first, Justin was not so impressed with Canada.



But as we stopped for coffee at The Wired Monk, he started to perk up a bit.  For Justin, there are very few situations that are not improved by the addition of coffee.

Unfortunately, the coffee was crap.  I had high hopes when they put chocolate whipped cream on my iced mocha, but it was the lonely high point of an otherwise awful cup of coffee.  Burnt shots!

We left and headed over to the Colossus.  Our day improved substantially.  I couldn't fit the entire building in one frame, but hopefully this pic gives you a decent idea:



The Colossus boasts 19 screens (one of them IMAX), a Baskin Robbins, TCBY, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, and a Starbucks (of course) among a few other restaurants.  Seating in the theaters is stadium style -- so you're fully sitting above the row in front of you.  Pretty posh.

We saw Transformers -- part two of our deal that if we saw Harry Potter V, I'd go to see Transformers.  Truthfully, I ended up loving Transformers.  Highly recommend it.

We felt our deeply Canadian experience wouldn't be complete without a visit to IKEA over in Coquitlam.  On our way, there was a traffic jam and we got into a bit of an altercation with some girls in the car next to us.  I looked over, and both of them were hanging their heads on the window sill, staring intently into our car.  I thought the best response was to grab my camera and take pictures of them.  They responded in kind.  Justin was going to lick the window just to take things up a notch, but he couldn't lick said window and drive safely at the same time.



I was impressed by two things in this moment: 1, Justin and I have the same level of maturity as tween girls; and 2, these smart-ass 12-year-olds have WAY cooler cell phones than we do.  Sigh.  They win this round.

IKEA was fun, we'll head back up there once we move next month.  Two more sights on our tour of Canada raised and then quickly lowered our opinion of our great neighbor to the North.



(Apparently we also have the same maturity level as 12-year-old boys.)



It pains me to show you the second picture, it really does.  Just like the let-down at the Wired Monk, Justin's hopes were raised (Yay, Canada does have Mountain Dew!) and shot down.  Hard.  (Caffeine free Mountain Dew?  ...I hate this country.)

After explaining to a border guard once more that we had indeed come to Canada simply to go see Transformers at the Colossus, we made it safely back into the good old US of A.

Good to be home.