Ordinary Woman, Extraordinary Life

Warm sand between my toes, the pounding surf in my ears, the hot sun kissing my (UVA/UVB protected) skin…Why do I love the beach so much?  I don’t live that close, but it’s not that far either- one hour can get me to the Atlantic coast.   Having lived for years in the desert, many miles from the nearest beach, makes me appreciate this a lot.

Puerto Rico, Antigua, Jamaica, Colombia, Mexico, Hawaii, California, Jones Beach right here in our little corner of the earth…all heaven on earth to me.  I have never slept as soundly as on nights camping out at the Mexican shore.  It’s the ocean breeze and the semi-rhythmic surf washing in and out that form a soothing lullaby.  Every sound during a day at the beach is deep and resonant-  the children screaming, the teens’ music, the vendors’ calls (“Heyyyy, ice cream, chipwich, frozen fruit bars, Snicker ice cream!”)  reverberate along the thermal heat waves.  I’m not sure why, but it feels kind of tribal to me;  like my body senses “home”.

Something about the beach also brings out extremes in me.  When I pack a lunch meant to be eaten around noon, I find myself ravenous and devouring my sandwich within thirty minutes of arriving.  I drink large quantities of ice cold, refreshing water.  When I go for a little walk along the shore, I wind up wandering for miles before turning around.  I can stare for hours at the waves, and I can sit for hours just absorbing it all.

Recently a friend came with two of her children from Seattle to visit.  I had a long list of “must-dos” for the kids, who had never been in New York before.  Well, weather and other things intervened, and it looked like we would not wind up doing much from my list.  I’m sure everyone got tired of hearing me repeat, “if nothing else, they have to see the beach; they have never seen anything like it.  I don’t care if it’s raining, we are going to the beach.”  I won.  We dragged ourselves to Jones Beach, and the kids had a great time; especially the nine-year-old, who demonstrated natural boogie board skills.

Having never lived on the beach, nor spent more than a lovely week in a row there, I’m not sure if I would like to make a beachfront property my permanent home.  As I have written in a prior post, I love seasons right outside my door.  I guess this could change, but for now, beaches are for lovely vacations and day trips.  On Thursday, my husband and I will be stepping aboard the fast ferry in New Bedford to begin a long weekend on the shores of Martha’s Vineyard with a great friend and her two amazing young ladies.  I can hardly wait!

Here is a link of someone’s idea of the best beaches in the world…putting them on my list!

http://travel.usnews.com/Rankings/Best_Beaches_in_the_World/

And some photos of beach days…

Remember this from childhood? You perceived that some injustice was done to you, you didn’t get the right result, something just wasn’t fair, and you demanded a do-over.  Sometimes you got it, if your peers decided it really wasn’t right; but sometimes they ruled against you and then, oh boy!  Your first taste of the court system in action.

Well, there are times when I still want a do-over.  I’m not talking about when I screw something up- I try not to have any true regrets.  A sheepish apology and a promise (more to myself than to whomever I offended) to never do it again usually suffice when I make an error in judgement.  I’m talking about those times when things are out of my control, and I don’t get the right result and something just isn’t fair.  Then I want another shot.

Last summer, I planned my fiftieth birthday party. I called it the Party of the Half Century-catchy, right?  It was to be a combination birthday and family/close friends reunion; the first time all three of our children would be in one place together since Christmas break, and the first time many of our friends would meet the kids they hear so much about (also, the first time my kids would meet the friends they hear so much about).   We catered from a local pizza place, had a huge tent and tables set up in the backyard and hired a rock band to play for hours.  We had about one hundred people who had responded “yes” and about thirty who had other plans kind of far away.  In the end, one uninvited guest changed everything: Hurricane Irene.  None of our children made the party, the hundred people who were travelling to get here stayed home and the thirty people who were supposed to attend distant celebrations showed up.  The band did make it, playing for hours in the garage while Irene was partying hard outside.  So it wasn’t all bad- it was really a very good time.  Just not what I had planned for; so I want a do-over.  If I sound like I’m whining a little, well, that’s the nature of the beast.

In April of 2011, we went to the mid-west to attend our niece’s wedding.  All of our children were to fly in from their various homes, and it was to be a joyous, wonderful weekend.   Except that our layover flight in Chicago was cancelled, our luggage was lost and not found until we returned home, and our son got snowed in at the Buffalo airport (in April!!).  Once again, it was mostly terrific, even though our son was not able to be there, which broke my heart; and a dress from Target had to suffice for the wedding.  Still, you know what I asked for…

There are certain people to whom I would like to grant a do-over, if I had such power.  President Obama on his Race to the Top is a good example.   He needs to step back, look at what his own daughters are receiving as an education and then try again.  That’s a huge one (and one for an entire other blog topic), but there are smaller ones too.  The moron who was driving down the highway in rush hour traffic tailgating and switching lanes at speeds way too high, and wound up in a ditch causing a horrendous  backup.  I’d actually like to do something to that guy myself, but my better side would just give him a do-over.   Even watching the Olympics right now, with all of its breath-holding drama;  the gold-medal hopefuls who tripped and fell or dropped the ball or missed the goal- I’m sure they all want a retake.

Back in the day, I appealed to my friends to grant me another chance…now I appeal to the powers that be- call it fate, angels, God, whatever you like.  When things don’t go my way due to nothing in my control, I regress a few years, have a mental tantrum and say it outloud: I WANT A DO-OVER!!!  It just makes me feel a little better.

You’ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face 
And show the world all the love in your heart 
Then people gonna treat you better 
You’re gonna find, yes you will 
That you’re beautiful as you feel. –Carole King

Back on my soapbox, this time for the ladies….I might tick off a few of you, so feel free to comment publicly or email me privately.  I can take it.

Girls- when you look in the mirror, stop focusing on the little tiny thing on your body that you hate!  I guess we can blame the media, the magazines that airbrush already-thin models, whatever.  I’m saying: take it back.  No one should have that kind of control over how you feel about yourself.  You were born with a genetically pre-disposed body, so make the most of it.  If you have good health, you do not need to complain that:

• your ankles or your lips are too thin
• your belly button is too deep
• your hair, your eyes, your skin, is a bad color
• your nose, toes, butt, you name it, is too big

I’m not saying that women shouldn’t take care of themselves. In fact I am saying the opposite: take care of what you were given, and you will appear beautiful to everyone.  When you feel good about yourself, you give off a natural shine that is as attractive as light to a moth.  I believe that if you lined up one hundred women and only one of them was smiling and happy, that would be the one people (men, women and children) would find the most attractive, even if they were all drop-dead gorgeous.  If you eat well and maintain an active lifestyle, you will feel energetic and positive; that shows on your face, in your voice and in your social interactions. When you find clothes that fit you well, and complement your shape, you look wonderful!

Make-up and plastic surgery are a huge business all over the world; this is no secret. In 2010, women globally spent $35 billion on cosmetics (http://www.reportlinker.com/ci02147/Make-up.html) and here are some fascinated facts about recent surgeries: http://www.surgery.org/sites/default/files/2011-quickfacts.pdf  I am not judging those who chose to surgically change their appearances.  I have had this discussion with several friends who say that the nose job, lipo, botox, etc, makes them feel so much better about them selves. That’s all good as long is it doesn’t lead to feeling bad about something else that needs fixing.  I’m also aware that many of us aging beauties will be dragged kicking and screaming into old age- I’m one of those.  I spend my share on anti-aging face creams, I take Resveratrol religiously, and I highlight my grays (actually, my husband does it for me- those $12 kits with the caps do wonders!).  But I will never forget my college roomate who took two hours to get her make-up on before she would allow anyone to see her, at the age of 18! At that time, I did not wear any make-up, and she told me to never start because I would never think I looked right without it.  She was right about that- now that I wear mascara every day, I think I look tired without it.  So I’m no saint in this tirade I’m on…

One of my pet peeves these days is how, when we go out, we see young women who obviously have spent hours preening and prepping for the club with men who obviously threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and, if we are lucky, ran a comb through their hair.  There needs to be some consensus- either the women have to spend less effort or the men need to spend more.   I wonder why, in the animal word, it is the male of the species with the pretty feathers, manes, songs and dances; yet in the human world, it is the women who feel they have to preen in order to get attention. Ladies, here’s a news flash: we already have what they want.  Make them do a little work for it instead of the other way around.

In the end, my message is this, plain and simple: you are gorgeous.  You were born gorgeous and you will be gorgeous until the day you die.  When you look in the mirror, try to see yourself the way others see you.  They don’t see the details the way we do- the lines and wrinkles, etc; they see the whole package.  I think we should all throw out the make-up mirrors that magnetize your pores to ten times their  normal size.  Thank goodness no one walks around with a magnifying glass to examine our faces.  So stop nitpicking and start celebrating!  Some people will find you attractive and some won’t. That’s not your problem. 

Here are some rather shocking looks at how the media shows beauty.  If you only want to see one, watch the Dove video on the first link…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2gD80jv5ZQ

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/australiaandthepacific/australia/7860766/Australia-to-force-magazines-to-carry-airbrush-warning.html

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2012948321_apeubritainfashionweekairbrushalert.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/01/25/kourtney-kardashian-ok-ph_n_436008.html

http://www.topsocialite.com/celebrities-without-makeup/

This is a Social Studies topic that we teach in first grade.  When you are six, you neeeed everything.  “I neeeed a dog.” “I neeeed another cookie.”  “I neeeed the new video game.”  So the first thing we do in class is brainstorm things we want and need on one big list; and then we sort them into two separate lists. The “need” side, we tell the children, has the items that you have to have in order to live: food, water, shelter, community and people to help you, clothing to keep you warm.  They get it pretty quickly, until someone says, “but I neeeed my teddy bear, or I can’t sleep.”  Sigh.

Adults should have an easier time differentiating these two; but often they don’t get it any better than a first grader.  It’s funny how adults justify this.  I had a terrible day- I need a drink.  I need a new car (blouse, dog, etc)- this one is so old.  I’m exhausted- I need a beach day.  Sometimes this is just an expression, I know, and people really do understand the difference.  Maybe.   Because in all honesty, most of us have way way way more than we actually need.

I am no exception now, but there was a time in our early marriage when we had to choose between paying rent on our love shack ($150 per month)  or buying food.  We lived on Ramen noodles and Kraft macaroni and cheese, and the occasional government handout of peanut butter.  We had a motorcycle for transportation, which usually meant one of us was walking due to our different schedules.  I flipped hamburgers at Louie’s Lower Level in the University of Arizona’s Student Union between classes, my husband did the graveyard shift as a U of A janitor, taking college courses during the day.  When we could afford to cut up some hot dogs into the mac-n-cheese, we called it a party and invited all of our friends.  They were also starving college students, some of whom sold their plasma so they could eat.  So you can believe me when I say  I am familiar personally with the wants vs. needs thing.

We worked our tail feathers off to get where we are today.  We are still working whatever feathers are left.  But now we really have a lot to show for it, and I don’t just mean materialistically.  We eat well, we travel, we have been able to help our kids as they move into adulthood, we support several wonderful local charities.  Money can’t buy happiness, but when you are generally a happy person, money sure is the icing on the cake.  Could we go back to living a mean life?  If we had to, we know how.  Would we want to?  A big hell no.  Still, it’s more than an interesting game of semantics- this wants vs. needs.

Then there are people who are so humble that they think we should only have just what we need, and that having too many things from the “wants” list makes us pretentious, even if the money is there  (people who live beyond their means are a different story).  My jury is out on this; I consider myself a person who doesn’t need anything material at all in order to feel complete. I appreciate and am thankful for everything I have, consciously and on a daily basis; and we are always looking for ways to share.   Isn’t that  humble?  Here is a definition of ”humble”- modesty in behavior, attitude, or spirit; not arrogant or prideful. In my recent life, I have met quite a few people, who by any standards would be considered über-wealthy, that are more down to earth than the average Joe.  They are truly examples of humble people- they are kind, philanthropic and “real”, as in easy to talk with. I think I stand by the idea that the amount of money you have does not necessarily change your basic personality (unless you let it- see the television show “Lottery Changed My Life” for examples of how wealth can affect people).

So back to wants and needs- I guess the message is this: be thoughtful about what you spend your money on.  If it is a luxury, be conscious that it is and don’t try to fool yourself into thinking you need it.  Awareness of how fortunate I am keeps me working hard and grounded.

Movies have given us many of the cultural catch phrases we use in everyday conversation. Some have become so commonplace that they are free-standing.   People might not even know they originated in a Hollywood blockbuster.   “Say hello to my little friend.”  “Houston, we have a problem.”  “I’ll be back” spoken with an Austrian accent.  “We’re on a mission from God.”  “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you are going to get.”  “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”  “There’s no place like home.”  “I’ll have what she’s having.”  “Hasta la vista, baby.”  This is kind of fun!

One of the currently most popular phrases that is a gift from the big screen is the “bucket list.” You know the movie- Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman decide to seek adventure before they both die of cancer.  But now the term “bucket list” is so common, even my ten-year-old neighbor has one.

This movie and this phrase changed a lot of lives. It was the first time people started to verbalize a wish list and began to check things off. It made the general population more aware of our limited time on the planet, and gave us the idea that we should stop putting off fun, adventure and challenges before it was too late.   This gave birth to related phrases such as “put it on the list,” and has become kissing cousins with another popular phrase, “I’m making a list and checking it twice.”  

I feel like I have had a list since I was a teenager, and I have been pretty good about checking things off: graduate high school, check; leave New York City, check; figure out a career that I will love, double check;  have a family, triple check.  What’s cool about having a “bucket list” is that is gives you something to look forward to. It’s really nothing more than a list of goals, both huge and tiny.  Here are some things that are on mine…

Before I die, I would like to go to Australia, Asia and Africa.  Okay, those are pretty huge, but there are places to go and people to meet!  Before  I die, I’d like to  have some grandchildren to spoil rotten.  Well, that one has to be on my kids’ bucket lists or I am out of luck.  I’d like to travel to outer space and see the earth from up there…okay, so some things on my list may be a bit out of reach, but I did try- in 1985 I applied for the position of Teacher in Space that went to Christa McAuliffe.   I think that’s the thing about a bucket list- you should put anything at all on it and then make plans to knock off as many as you can.  Why limit yourself??

Maybe we have to incorporate our lists into our lives so that they become a seamless part of our thinking.  I think that’s why I use the phrase “put it on the list” pretty regularly and without much thought as to parameters.  Just about anything can make my list, as long as it is something I want to do (as opposed to need to do).  A swimming pool in my backyard?  A ski weekend out west?  Attending the Olympics? Scuba diving? A family trip to somewhere fun with all of us? All on my list…. Some of these are material things,but  many are experiences.  I figure- you can’t take it with you when you go, so spend it on fun whenever you can.  Some things on my list are more grounded: write the great American novel; become a volunteer to help needy children or at an animal shelter, or both;  learn to knit.  When I think about it, my bucket list keeps changing.  The things I would have put on the list last year or even last week, would not make it this morning.  I guess that’s okay too.  After all, it’s my list.

What’s on yours?

Here are some of Sunday’s Headlines:

Phelps Finishes with 18 Golds

Fighting Intensifies in Aleppo

Pakistan Police Parade Naked Pair

Same-Sex Kiss Day at Chick-fil-A’ Draws Kissing Activists

Jackson Siblings Deny Money at Root of Family Dispute

Suicide Bomber Kills 45 in South Yemen City

U.S. Economy Showing New Resilience

I almost feel like I don’t need to write anything else.  It’s incredible to me that so much is going on in the world- at the same time that I am addictively watching the Olympics, people are dying, killing, kissing, fighting, and generally wreaking havoc and chaos around the world.  According to the headlines, people are heroic, violent, active and passive, all in the same five seconds.  It’s truly enough to make me dizzy.

Now that the internet has made news and information instantly available, we are surrounded 24/7. You can turn it off, but it is always there waiting.  I received a “push notification” on my cell phone about the death of Osama Bin Laden while at a party.  Cheers!  Information overload causes us either to become complete anxious wrecks or to live with our heads in the sand.  After September 11, 2001, I had to make my mother turn off the television for days at a time- she was so afraid for our safety she could barely sleep, due to the sensationalized interviews with imams who were pledging to finish the job and the constantly repeated images of the attacks on the World Trade Center.  I really think that people have always been crazy and out of control, but the instantaneous world-wide reach of the internet bombards us constantly with all the bad news that’s fit to print.

“News” is not news anymore, really.  The television stations even call it “news show” or “news program”.  I grew up watching young men dying on the front lines of the Vietnam war on television, and I fell asleep to the CBS announcer calling out draft numbers on the radio.  Now the first twenty minutes of the nightly news is spent on ridiculous stories or very localized information or the opposite opinion of the story from the day before. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in the George Orwell’s 1984– one day we are at war with someone and the next day we are allies; one day our economy is dismal and the next day not so bad.   If I want to know what is happening in Afganistan or Syria or even the United States, I have to watch C-Span or go online and read the BBC news.  If I want an in depth look at an important story, I have to tune into NPR.  I actually have to make an effort and search for information.  Does the average American do that on a regular basis? The average American does not even vote in presidential elections, so I think not.

The newest television reality shows, which feature either tremendously stupid people (ie: “World’s Dumbest” video series) or tremendously stupid competitions (ie:” Craft Wars”) seem designed to distract the majority of Americans from the serious shit that is going on around them.  These shows are like weed and alcohol- they block any true thought or action from happening.  Ask the average American what happened last night on Housewives of Staten Island,  and you will get a full and emotionally engaged explanation. Ask the average American what happened last night in Afghanistan and you will get a blank stare. And  it is not just Americans that prefer cupcakes to craziness- European and Japanese television started with competition shows in the 1970’s.  I used to watch them in the Netherlands as a teenager.  We are actually way behind in the Mindless Television Show category.

So, what’s in the news?  It’s mostly bad because that gets more attention.  It’s mostly spin because that’s what people pay for.  It’s mostly sensational  because sex sells.  But what’s really happening in the world?  Good luck with that one….

Boxes are starting to pile up in front of the shelves, furniture and walls. The pictures are down, leaving empty frame hangers;  the pottery and books are packed; and my winter clothes are too. The change of address form is filed with the United States Postal Service, and the new phone is set up.  It’s official and becoming real: we are moving.

Oh, we are not moving far- it’s literally less than two miles.  But I still have to pack everything so that it won’t break, and I still want to organize my clothes and kitchen supplies so that it will be easier when we get everything to the new house.   That way when I unpack, it will be less painful. For someone who does not consider herself materialistic, we sure have a lot of stuff. 

This is our tenth move in our thirty two years together.  Try to follow this: we moved into our first little love shack on Water Street in Tucson in 1979. It was as big as a two-car garage, and the queen size bed took up the entire bedroom space so that when you opened the door, you  had to crawl onto the bed.   In 1980, right after we got married, we moved into a bigger house down the street with a close friend, because we could not afford the rent without her.  Within a year we bought our first place- a 1950 travel trailer that had been parked and affixed onto a small addition.  It was out in the boonies, and we hosted many a gathering with music and bonfires.  After a couple of years, my husband’s business was beginning to pick up and he built a spec house to sell.  Well, we got thinking about having babies, and we moved into that house.  We lived there for several years and then, as I said in another post, we picked ourselves up, dumped all of our worldy belongings and our jobs and business, and hauled ourselves back east.  In New York City, we rented an apartment, then moved to another apartment and then bought a house in Westchester County.  We intended to stay there for a long time, but after three years we became disenchanted with the neighborhood and schools (the neighborhood was hit with a violent crime wave, and the schools were dismal).  So we moved into our present home.

This is the only home our children really remember.  It was here that they had all of their birthday parties, with piñatas swinging in the trees; here that they learned independence as they walked into town and later to the train station for their first forays alone into the city; here that we took the photos before proms; here that they packed their belongings into crates and boxes for their moves to college and the beginnings of their own adult lives.  Here were the family dinners, the puppy and several kittens, the games of catch and frisbee on the street, the block parties, the family gatherings, the winter nights sleeping in front of the fireplace when the electricity went out, the gangs of gangly teens chowing down pizza in the basement, the ping pong table,  the snowmen and snowwomen and snowball fights, dad’s toast platter breaksfast before school, the homework and the home-cooked meals.  The house itself transformed over the nearly sixteen years of our occupation-we added a two-story addition on the back, and a patio, to give us more family spaces as the kids grew.  But now opportunity has come knocking, and even with all the nostalgia, it is time to move on.

So off we go, once again, to make a new home for ourselves and our family.  This new place will be warmed by the new gatherings that will happen here.  A house is just a house after all.  Home is where the heart is. 

¡Buenos dias, amigos!  Goedemorgen, bon jour, and שלום!  The world is a small place and getting smaller by the megabyte.  The ability to communicate in several languages is becoming more important than ever; but beyond that, it’s just plain fun!

I love to hear people having a conversation in a language with which I am not familiar. I listen for patterns and repetitive words, and I watch their body language.  I find I can actually understand the gist of such conversations in this way; especially when there are children involved, because the language is simpler.  It helps that the context of human interactions tends to be pretty basic in general.  It’s fascinating to me how the human brain can meaningfully  comprehend different sounds in different regions of the world.  It’s like a puzzle just waiting for me to solve.

I feel truly fortunate to have been raised in a multi-lingual home.  Spanish, Dutch and English formed the soundtrack of our lives.  Although we were only spoken to in English, I learned Spanish because my parents used it with each other so we wouldn’t understand their conversations.  Once they figured out that I knew what they were saying, they switched to Dutch.  Then I learned Dutch, and they were out of luck. Children absorb home languages because they need to.  It is amazing to see a three-year-old who speaks one language to mom and a different one to grandma without even thinking about it. When I was fourteen, spending the summer with Oma and my tantes (aunts, her three remaining sisters) in Amsterdam, I was allowed the freedom to roam as I wished.  One time I was riding the tram, and a family from Argentina sitting near me was talking to each other in Spanish about being lost.  I was able to get directions in Dutch from a local and help the Argentinian family find their way.  Too cool!

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I developed inhibitions about saying the wrong word or using the wrong tense or not having the correct pronounciation.  Another reason children seem to learn languages more easily than adults, other than their more malleable brains for absorbing and more limber tongues for producing, is this lack of fear.  Fear got in my way for many years; working with children as a bilingual teacher helped me get over it.

I always tell immigrant parents to immerse their children in their native language for as long as possible.  It is my firm belief that early exposure to more than one language opens up pathways in children’s brains that lead to increased learning ability overall.  In addition, we need more multilingual people in the United States for an endless number of reasons.  Yes,  everyone here should speak English well;  but I also believe that being multilingual is a largely unappreciated asset in this country.  In Europe, it is taken for granted that most people speak another language.  It helps in business and social aspects. My mother has three languages in her repetoire, my father spoke five languages; my Oma spoke eight!

On my “bucket list” are the following languages: Mandarin, which I am currently studying just for fun in my spare time;  French, which I can get by with, but would like to speak fluently; Hebrew, which I can decode but not comprehend beyond a few basic words;  maybe Portuguese and Russian too, if I live another hundred years.  Just like chocolates or beach days, you can never have too many!

With the approach of our thirty second anniversary, I have been giving some thought to marriage lately.  So I’m climbing up on my soapbox and letting loose my thoughts on the topic.  I like this definition from Wikipedia: “Marriage  (also called matrimony or wedlock) is a social union or legal contract between people called spouses that creates kinship. The definition of marriage varies according to different cultures, but is usually an institution in which interpersonal relationships, usually intimate and sexual, are acknowledged. Such a union is often formalized via a wedding ceremony.”  Here’s my own simpler definition: “two people who love each other agree to do so for the rest of their lives.”

A caveat to my divorced friends, acquaintances and blog readers before I get started:  this is my one-sided view of marriage.  I have never been in your shoes, and I am not judging you in any way.  Please forgive me ahead of time if I inadvertently, unknowingly say something that you think is wrong.  But also, please chime in with a comment if I do!

I will begin at the beginning with the wedding vows.  This is what I believe:  say what you mean, and mean what you say.  If you say, “till death do us part,” you are saying that nothing that happens in your lives will be allowed to tear your marriage apart.  Think carefully and long about this one; I think it is the most important one to discuss.  When we were planning our wedding, my husband  (who was mature beyond his 21 years) said, “this means forever, do you understand that? There will be no divorce, so be sure you can wrap your mind around that.”  What does forever mean to an eighteen year old??  I agreed with no compunctions;  and through some rough times that quick discussion, which I never forgot, kept me assured and confident that we could get past anything.

The next important part of our vows was “cherish each other.”   Sounds easy peasy when you are in love and in the honeymoon phase.  Not so easy when the going gets tough.  Sometimes those charming habits of his become the cause for annoyance, embarassment, disgust, even rage.  I’ll be big enough to admit that probably works both ways.  Through these many years I have found our “in-loveness” to be a rollercoaster.  There have been times when I can’t believe I chose this guy; and then suddenly one morning I wake up as in love with him as the day we wed.  Literally, it can happen from one day to the next or it can go for months. Cherishing each other means not abusing each other verbally, emotionally or physically.  Here are some synomyns for cherishing:  treasuring, prizing, esteeming, revering.   Good stuff to remember.

We also promised “for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to honor.”  The wording of our vows is a promise, and we don’t break promises.

Once the vows are exchanged, it’s time to make your own recipe for marriage.  Do not let anyone tell you how it should be!  It is a basic truth that no one truly knows what goes on in a marriage behind closed doors; nor should they.   Our recipe has gotten us through some major life events.  I found this one online that generally seems to fit us.  All of these are good points and all leave room for interpretation and individual fit.

Sarah’s Recipe for a Happy Marriage

1 cup each of the following: Trust, Kindness, Honesty, Compromise, Great or at least, frequent, sex

2 cups of:  Love, Patience, Respect, Forgiveness, Communication, Validation

Equal Parts:  Appreciation, Belief that you only want the best for each other, Pure Grit & Determination, Individual Responsibility, Willingness to grow, Ability to say sorry and mean it, Loyalty

Plus at least a 1/4 to a 1/2 a cup of “sweet cherries,” such as the occasional butt pinch, spontaneous kiss and “just because,” flowers, note, or thoughtful deed!

Realize that these ingredients won’t always be fresh, or easy to obtain! Life will inevitably throw you some sour times. You’ll be hit with some hard grains of salt, and perhaps even, too much spicy–heated pepper! When this happens, bring out the chocolate for her, the ice cream for him–and don’t forget the cherries!

Be willing to discuss this recipe from time to time and see which ingredients are most important to spouse during certain life-stages! This recipe may take some tweaking and a while to learn, but have no fear, it is a fool-proof, no fail recipe for a truly happy lasting marriage!

Oh, and most of all, enjoy your efforts–and each other! (http://www.projecthappilyeverafter.com/2009/08/recipe-for-a-happy-marriage/)

I am lucky to have found a guy who truly loves and respects who I am, even if it drives him mad at times. And I am lucky to have found a guy who I truly love and respect, even if he drives me mad at times too.  I don’t think I would have married someone who didn’t feel the same way I do; but that may be hindsight as well as luck.  The key is that you are both on the same page;  both agree to say what you mean and mean what you say.

If you choose to spend your life with someone, the rewards are great: someone to share the good times as well as the bad; a partner in crime; lots of inside jokes; more sex than other people; better sex too; unconditional love;  someone to bounce your thoughts off of; support of your endeavors; still finding out surprising things about each other and yourself after many years;  and so much more.  Don’t misunderstand- one relationship cannot fullfill all of your needs. Outside friendships and family relationships are a big part of a marriage. In fact, I did not marry one man.  I married an entire family, a group of friends and a business.  But my life partner is there for me on a yin-yang level that cannot be matched.  I am not a fan of statements such as “he completes me,” but I will, without doubt, stand behind “he complements me.”

I wish each person could find “a one” (as opposed to “the one”- that’s too fairy tale-ish) who will hold hands and go skipping through this life together.  It makes things way more tolerable and fun.

August 1980

Busy/still…work/play…give/take…social/alone…confidence/anxiety…  All day long, all week long, all year long, all lifelong, I battle with these polar opposites.  And I know I’m not the only one- I grew up watching the cartoon devil and angel sitting on each shoulder of a large variety of television characters,  pulling for good and evil.  The big puzzle is how to find and maintain balance in the face of everything pulling for my time and attention.  When and where and how can I be quiet and alone, ever?  Balance is a moving target which seems to depend almost entirely on outside forces.  What are the kids doing? What is my husband doing? What does work require?  What does home require?  When are friends available?  When is the dentist available?  When do I finally get to the point when I am yelling “STOOOOOPPP!” and find a place for a time-out??  In reality, it’s my ability to react and be proactive that helps me find balance. Way easier said than done.

Our personal and family motto has always been “work hard, play hard” and we take it very seriously.  If you don’t believe me, ask our kids. Or some of our friends…I constantly hear, “I don’t know how you do everything you do.”   When we were raising the children, they were our #1 priority.  Dinner every night together at six; bath and bedtime routines; sports; day trips; playdates; school work; vacations; pool time: sleep was a commodity and alone time was my thirty minute ride home in the car from work. I was emotionally and physically stretched thin to the point of nearly breaking.  Even vacations were work for us (see my post So Tense).  My husband and I tried to find some date-nights but in truth we knew the time with kids would be short and sweet, and we enjoyed it so much. Date-nights were just not a priority.  We would tell each other that G-rated joy would suffice for the next twenty years, and in retrospect it really did. 

Aside from raising kids, since we didn’t have any the first eight years of marriage and don’t have any at home in the present, other things pull us in different directions.  We like to have fun of the not-G variety; but can only really enjoy it on weekends and vacations.  We are both givers, and enjoy being able to help others; taking is not something either of us do well, but we are working on that (correction: I am working on that for both of us).  We love our friends and value our time with them; but need to take some time for us and for each of us.  We have learned to live parallel lives as opposed to enmeshed lives- we respect and like each other as people and work to keep from monitoring  each other’s every choice.  That’s huge.  It involves finding balance between caring and controlling.

It has taken me YEARS to become this reflective and to feel somewhat balanced.  I’m currently coasting along, knowing that there will be blind curves and trees down in the road ahead.  I am hoping that this period of my life will give me the strength I will need for the rest of it.  Wish me luck!