I just watched my husband have one of the most stressful weeks of his life. He went through training at EVMS, prepared for and took his midterms, taught class, went to class, and received a teaching evaluation that I'm sure he'd rather I not mention. Well, I'll only mention it briefly. An adjunct instructor with an M.A. in Lit (which Lucas also has...not to mention he taught adjunct the year before we moved here) couldn't seem to make one positive comment about the class she observed. Now, I may be biased, but I know what kind of teacher my husband is. He's great. He cares about his students and their success. And he takes pride in his job. So, it broke my heart to see him throw the evaluation across our living room and dwell on this one person's opinion, which in my opinion, held no relevance because she failed to make suggestions as to how he should improve. She just scolded him for knit picky things - like a few of his adult students texting while he was working with other students. I've had bad evaluations. It happens to the best of us even when we're trying our hardest. You can't please everyone, and that's a fact. Regardless, me mentioning this to him seemed to do very little to make him feel better.
So, Lucas is stressed and he hasn't slept well all week. I've woken up to him crawling away from his computer and into bed past 3 a.m. several times this week. One night, he went to bed as I got up to start my work day, only to have to get up a couple hours later to teach his class.
I have never seen Lucas like this. Usually, he's the calm one. He's the one who has to make me slow down. He's the one who offers me comfort only to be pushed away - because all the kind, sympathetic words in the world won't help when you're stuck in that frame of mind. The whole situation is foreign to me. Lucas stresses over what he wants to eat for dinner, but when it comes to the hard stuff - worrying about his career, his work relationships, his ability to provide, his reputation - he's always brushed that stuff aside. When it comes to the things that keep most of us awake at night, he always seems to know that everything will be OK. So, when I saw my grown husband grip his head and cry last night, I didn't really know what to do. I usually brush his "stress" aside. Because his stress generally consists of him not knowing what to eat or if he should or shouldn't rent some video game. Sure, he stresses over his school work, but that's simply because he wants validation that he's doing a good job - even when he knows he his, he wants to hear it from me. Maybe it shouldn't, but that stuff seems silly to me. I'm the one who worries about how we're going to pay our bills and getting our taxes done in time and saving money for tuition and making sure the garbage cans are taken out in a timely manner. In fact, I've always been kind of bitter, because in my mind, Lucas has always had the luxury of worrying about the easily fixed stuff. I'm the one who bears the big burdens. Or so I've told myself for the past couple of years.
I've developed a horrible habit of brushing off Lucas' problems as if they're unimportant. Usually, I grow frustrated and roll my eyes at his so-called "dilemmas." Usually, I do whatever I need to appease him, but I feel like he owes me and I'm not really happy to help him. But last night, for the first time since we got married, I didn't feel that way at all. I happily went and bought him the dinner he requested. And I didn't mention the fact that his button up shirt was on inside out, which I'm sure it had been all day. When he asked me not to turn on the TV for five minutes because he couldn't handle the noise, I decided to leave it turned off for the rest of the night. When I asked him why he couldn't sleep and he told me it was because he couldn't get comfortable in our small full size bed, I offered to sleep on the couch so he could sprawl and be at peace. He felt bad for accepting my offer, but he took it nonetheless. And I was truly glad that he did. Being the sweet guy he is, he told me I could come to bed once he fell asleep because, as he said, "once I'm asleep there's no waking me up." So, I slept on the couch until about four this morning, then Gus, Elliott, and I joined him in bed. We slept together as a family like we always do. This time, however, I didn't hear Lucas grind his teeth or sleepily curse the pets (or me) for taking up space. He just slept. I don't even think he realized we were there.
Stress. It's a killer. I should know, because I'm the kind of person who craves it. Lucas isn't that kind of person, though. He's the smiley one in our family. He's the one who makes me stop in the kitchen and dance stupidly when I'm trying to accomplish a million things and pulling out my hair simultaneously.
I learned a lesson last night (and throughout the week) about supporting the ones you love with no agenda. I'd like to thank God for that one. I feel like He gave me a pretty great week full of blessings (and about ten small miracles) in order to be able to show my husband His love through my actions. I gotta say, it felt good to finally be strong for my husband after all the times he's done the same for me.
Lucas, my sweet boy,
I am so proud of you. I'm proud of your accomplishments, and I'm proud simply because you made it through such a miserable week. Please, rent a video game this weekend. You deserve it.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Love Is Patient, Love Is Kind (Sometimes)
Over the past couple of weeks, I've heard about several break-ups/new relationships among my friends. This made me think about relationships in general and how wonderful/awful they can be. Let's face it, the Bible may tell us that love is patient and kind, but sometimes that patience wears thin (to become almost invisible) and it's definitely unkind more often than we'd like. Maybe the J. Geils band had it right when they said "love stinks."
Marriage has been the hardest endeavor I've ever pursued. I say this sincerely (and a little uncomfortably).
When I was a kid, I looked at magazine pictures of happy couples and envisioned how my husband I would look one day - just as happy, just as perfect and in love as the L.L. Bean couple on page ten. Well, when Lucas and I got married, I still had stars in my eyes for the most part. We'd had our fair share of arguments, and I knew we'd have our respected "issues" throughout our marriage. But I loved him so much, none of that mattered. We were still going to be just like those magazine couples.
Meh...maybe I was too idealistic.
Lucas and I have shared some beautiful moments together. For instance, when I was bummed to the point of wanting to quit my job at CHS and give up all my adult obligations, Lucas was there to play me a song on his guitar and remind me that I could do anything. For some reason, he thinks I'm Superwoman. It's nice to know that someone believes in me that much.
Lucas and I have also shared some monumental fights. We're talking Kathleen Turner/Michael Douglas in War of the Roses fights. EPIC. Name-calling*, door-slamming, household item-throwing, suitcase-packing fights. (Yeah, I went there.) And sometimes, those fights weren't resolved so quickly.
The point is - we worked through it. We work hard at our marriage. Just like recovering alcoholics, we take things one day at a time. It's not easy. It's time consuming and frustrating. We're both two incredibly stubborn people, and we have difficulties bending to each other's wills. If I nag Lucas, it's a sure sign that he won't do whatever I asked him to do. If Lucas whines about something I have or haven't done, guess what? The Davis passive aggressiveness comes out full throttle. Other times (the worst times), the Clisham unabashed anger ensues. Actually, I don't think the word anger quite cuts it. I become a completely different person full of the worst kind of wrath. We both want things the way we want them and when we want them. I don't think this is an unusual ordeal for most married couples, but it stinks none the less.
Clearly, I'm no expert on marriage (or relationships in general). But, I feel confident about one thing.
I married the man I was supposed to marry, and I will always be his wife.
John Byrne, my dear friend Amy's brother, is autistic. He is also a prophet...and has a bit of a crush on me. When I saw him last weekend, he told me that he was going to get a posse together to beat up Lucas if he ever hurt me. I told him that was sweet, but I hoped it never came to that. I told him that Lucas is a great guy - even when we fight, and he said, "Well, you know, love is for better or for worse." What a wise person John is. He's completely right.
I always said "I don't believe in divorce." When you marry someone, that's it. Make your decision wisely. I'm not sure I completely agree with my past-self anymore. Sometimes ending a relationship is necessary. People change over time. But, both Lucas and I have watched our parents maintain marriages for over 30 years. (If memory serves me right, Lucas' parents have been married for 40 years.) We've heard of (and at times witnessed) our parents' arguments. We know that they had to work at marriage, too. Even though I'm sure at times they wanted to, they never gave up. They set an example for us.
Lucas and I got married quickly (as I've mentioned before). We're still learning about each other. I can tell you the name of Lucas' first girlfriend. He can tell you about my first kiss. I know the name of his first pet. He knows how tall I was in 5th grade. I don't know what Lucas' first short story was. He can't tell you about the first dance I was in at Winthrop. We're saving these tid bits of information for later. Because until we die, there will always be a later. We change daily - as individuals and as a couple. Sometimes adjusting to those changes isn't easy - to say the least. But, we do it one day at a time.
Again, clearly, I'm no expert at marriage. But I do know something...a few things. For those of you who have just started a relationship, a marriage, or as my students used to say, you've just started "talking" to someone, here are a few things to keep in mind.
1. Give it a chance. If it doesn't sparkle and shine in the beginning, it might later.
2. Give it a chance. If it sparkles and shines at the beginning, but fades later - put a little ketchup (Vitamin C) on it, and it just may sparkle again.
3. Be honest - with yourself and your significant other. Give it a chance, but don't force yourself to try and make something out of nothing. You know yourself better than anyone. Do what's best for you. Listen to yourself.
4. If you're unhappy, figure out why. And then fix it. If that means giving up said relationship, do it. (It might not be the relationship. Your unhappiness might be something else, but you blame it on the relationship. Think. Again, be honest with yourself.)
5. Take it slow. (Ha. The lady who got engaged after five months says to "take it slow." Yeah, she does. You should listen to her.) If you love someone and he/she loves you the same way, time means nothing. He or she will always be there.
6. That stupid book/ movie "He's Just Not That Into You" has a point. If you ain't feeling the love and you ain't giving the love, it won't work.
7. Ross Gellar made a Pro/Con list that got him in trouble with Rachel. However, he was pretty smart. Marriage is more than just love. (And let's face it, when we (well, most of us) start relationships, we hope they will last forever. We hope we've found "the one.") Marriage if about 30% love and 70% everything else. If your boy isn't making you feel pretty or your lady isn't listening to your rants, and this makes you unhappy, it might not be enough. Go on, be picky. You're worth it.
8. To counter that, don't be too picky. People sure can surprise you.
If you've just ended a relationship, keep the following in mind:
1. You ended it for a reason. Whatever it was, it was worth ending it.
2. Sometimes ending a relationship, no matter how hard it is to do, is best. Stay strong.
3. Be proud of yourself, because hopefully, you gave it your all and you followed your heart.
4. Be kind - to yourself and the other party. People are still people. Sometimes that's easy to forget in a break-up situation.
5. Plan ahead for yourself - with no one else in mind.
6. Recognize the past. It happened for a reason. It was part of God's plan. Learn from it. Respect it.
7. Ride off on your white horse and don't look back. If it ended, then hopefully, you made sure it did for a reason. Be proud of your decision. I hope you're proud of your decision. I hope it was best for you. (I was never good at this one - as the dumper or the dumpee. I couldn't just let go. I beg you, let go.)
My maternal grandparents fussed at each other constantly. My sister and I giggled every time we saw my grandmother roll her eyes at our Pop when he slurped his soup. We loved it when my almost deaf grandfather yelled "Go to Hell" at the TV screen when the Orioles screwed up during a game. My grandmother would yell "WILLIAM!" in an attempt to scold him for his foul mouth. I heard my Mom-Ouise say some pretty nasty things to my Pop. And I saw my Pop fuss back at her or ignore her completely. They were Edith and Archie Bunker - if Edith grew a spine times ten. Mom-Ouise was not one to hold her tongue. (Lucas, I get it honestly.) They bickered and bickered...but my favorite memory of them was when I was in the eighth grade. Mom-Ouise had congested heart disease and diabetes. The doctors didn't give her much time. (She was stubborn, though, and made it two years longer than they'd given her.) My mom made monthly trips to Baltimore to help take care of Mom-Ouise that year. One time, my mom and I made the trip together. At dinner, we'd eaten Mom-Ouise's soup - her recipe. This was the soup my grandmother always had on the stove for us when we came to visit. Even if we got into town at 2 a.m., there was soup on the stove. My mom and Aunt Helen made it. But, this batch didn't have salt in it, because it had to go along with Mom-Ouise's dietary needs. My tiny 120 lb. grandmother sipped the soup and made a face. "How is it?" she asked me. "It's good," I said. "It isn't. It tastes awful. There's no salt," she said. "No, it's good," I said. (It tasted AWFUL.) She passed me the salt and winked. Mom Ouise always winked, and even when she smiled, the corners of her mouth turned down. I loved that. Later than night, my grandfather drove his ancient Ford Escort to my uncle and aunt's house where my grandmother stayed. I was in the kitchen and I heard my grandfather say to his wife, the woman he constantly argued with, "I love you, Louise." She replied, "I love you too, Bill." And I cried like an infant right there in my uncle and aunt's kitchen. And then I saw my mother standing outside the guest bedroom where they were, and she gasped and cried too. This made me cry harder, of course.
Mom-Ouise died in October of 2001. Pop, who from what my family could tell was in good condition, died in October of 2002. For a year, anytime I talked to Pop, I would ask him how he was. He would reply, "I'm lonely." I believe he died of a broken heart. He and my grandmother dated through WWII, they married in 1945 when Pop came home "without a scratch." They had four wonderful children and eight grandchildren. I am the youngest. They have seven great grand-children and one on the way. They had some epic fights. And they loved each other...hopelessly...sometimes questionably...always indefinitely...for better or for worse.
Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work. Sometimes they need to end. Sometimes they simply need Biblical patience. And time. They always need time.
If you have just started a relationship or if you've just ended one or if you're newly married or have been married for a long time (or it just feels like a long time), know this....
Louise and Bill is a great romance story - and yours is waiting for you and your loved one...if you've just found him/her, if you're still looking for him/her, or if he/she sleeps next to you every night.
Love is patient (when you have patience) and kind (when you're willing to be just that) and it stinks (only if you're unwilling to spray a little Fabreeze).
So, I guess all I'm offering with this blog is...I understand. Love is fickle. And beautiful. And messy. It is what it is. Just remember, listen to your heart, your God, yourself. When you meet a man (or woman) who hates your cooking, but eats it anyway, then orders chicken wings when you've gone to bed....perhaps he or she is worth loving a little.
* By the way, the funniest (?) bashing Lucas ever gave me was this one: he viciously called me a Republican. Ouch?
Marriage has been the hardest endeavor I've ever pursued. I say this sincerely (and a little uncomfortably).
When I was a kid, I looked at magazine pictures of happy couples and envisioned how my husband I would look one day - just as happy, just as perfect and in love as the L.L. Bean couple on page ten. Well, when Lucas and I got married, I still had stars in my eyes for the most part. We'd had our fair share of arguments, and I knew we'd have our respected "issues" throughout our marriage. But I loved him so much, none of that mattered. We were still going to be just like those magazine couples.
Meh...maybe I was too idealistic.
Lucas and I have shared some beautiful moments together. For instance, when I was bummed to the point of wanting to quit my job at CHS and give up all my adult obligations, Lucas was there to play me a song on his guitar and remind me that I could do anything. For some reason, he thinks I'm Superwoman. It's nice to know that someone believes in me that much.
Lucas and I have also shared some monumental fights. We're talking Kathleen Turner/Michael Douglas in War of the Roses fights. EPIC. Name-calling*, door-slamming, household item-throwing, suitcase-packing fights. (Yeah, I went there.) And sometimes, those fights weren't resolved so quickly.
The point is - we worked through it. We work hard at our marriage. Just like recovering alcoholics, we take things one day at a time. It's not easy. It's time consuming and frustrating. We're both two incredibly stubborn people, and we have difficulties bending to each other's wills. If I nag Lucas, it's a sure sign that he won't do whatever I asked him to do. If Lucas whines about something I have or haven't done, guess what? The Davis passive aggressiveness comes out full throttle. Other times (the worst times), the Clisham unabashed anger ensues. Actually, I don't think the word anger quite cuts it. I become a completely different person full of the worst kind of wrath. We both want things the way we want them and when we want them. I don't think this is an unusual ordeal for most married couples, but it stinks none the less.
Clearly, I'm no expert on marriage (or relationships in general). But, I feel confident about one thing.
I married the man I was supposed to marry, and I will always be his wife.
John Byrne, my dear friend Amy's brother, is autistic. He is also a prophet...and has a bit of a crush on me. When I saw him last weekend, he told me that he was going to get a posse together to beat up Lucas if he ever hurt me. I told him that was sweet, but I hoped it never came to that. I told him that Lucas is a great guy - even when we fight, and he said, "Well, you know, love is for better or for worse." What a wise person John is. He's completely right.
I always said "I don't believe in divorce." When you marry someone, that's it. Make your decision wisely. I'm not sure I completely agree with my past-self anymore. Sometimes ending a relationship is necessary. People change over time. But, both Lucas and I have watched our parents maintain marriages for over 30 years. (If memory serves me right, Lucas' parents have been married for 40 years.) We've heard of (and at times witnessed) our parents' arguments. We know that they had to work at marriage, too. Even though I'm sure at times they wanted to, they never gave up. They set an example for us.
Lucas and I got married quickly (as I've mentioned before). We're still learning about each other. I can tell you the name of Lucas' first girlfriend. He can tell you about my first kiss. I know the name of his first pet. He knows how tall I was in 5th grade. I don't know what Lucas' first short story was. He can't tell you about the first dance I was in at Winthrop. We're saving these tid bits of information for later. Because until we die, there will always be a later. We change daily - as individuals and as a couple. Sometimes adjusting to those changes isn't easy - to say the least. But, we do it one day at a time.
Again, clearly, I'm no expert at marriage. But I do know something...a few things. For those of you who have just started a relationship, a marriage, or as my students used to say, you've just started "talking" to someone, here are a few things to keep in mind.
1. Give it a chance. If it doesn't sparkle and shine in the beginning, it might later.
2. Give it a chance. If it sparkles and shines at the beginning, but fades later - put a little ketchup (Vitamin C) on it, and it just may sparkle again.
3. Be honest - with yourself and your significant other. Give it a chance, but don't force yourself to try and make something out of nothing. You know yourself better than anyone. Do what's best for you. Listen to yourself.
4. If you're unhappy, figure out why. And then fix it. If that means giving up said relationship, do it. (It might not be the relationship. Your unhappiness might be something else, but you blame it on the relationship. Think. Again, be honest with yourself.)
5. Take it slow. (Ha. The lady who got engaged after five months says to "take it slow." Yeah, she does. You should listen to her.) If you love someone and he/she loves you the same way, time means nothing. He or she will always be there.
6. That stupid book/ movie "He's Just Not That Into You" has a point. If you ain't feeling the love and you ain't giving the love, it won't work.
7. Ross Gellar made a Pro/Con list that got him in trouble with Rachel. However, he was pretty smart. Marriage is more than just love. (And let's face it, when we (well, most of us) start relationships, we hope they will last forever. We hope we've found "the one.") Marriage if about 30% love and 70% everything else. If your boy isn't making you feel pretty or your lady isn't listening to your rants, and this makes you unhappy, it might not be enough. Go on, be picky. You're worth it.
8. To counter that, don't be too picky. People sure can surprise you.
If you've just ended a relationship, keep the following in mind:
1. You ended it for a reason. Whatever it was, it was worth ending it.
2. Sometimes ending a relationship, no matter how hard it is to do, is best. Stay strong.
3. Be proud of yourself, because hopefully, you gave it your all and you followed your heart.
4. Be kind - to yourself and the other party. People are still people. Sometimes that's easy to forget in a break-up situation.
5. Plan ahead for yourself - with no one else in mind.
6. Recognize the past. It happened for a reason. It was part of God's plan. Learn from it. Respect it.
7. Ride off on your white horse and don't look back. If it ended, then hopefully, you made sure it did for a reason. Be proud of your decision. I hope you're proud of your decision. I hope it was best for you. (I was never good at this one - as the dumper or the dumpee. I couldn't just let go. I beg you, let go.)
My maternal grandparents fussed at each other constantly. My sister and I giggled every time we saw my grandmother roll her eyes at our Pop when he slurped his soup. We loved it when my almost deaf grandfather yelled "Go to Hell" at the TV screen when the Orioles screwed up during a game. My grandmother would yell "WILLIAM!" in an attempt to scold him for his foul mouth. I heard my Mom-Ouise say some pretty nasty things to my Pop. And I saw my Pop fuss back at her or ignore her completely. They were Edith and Archie Bunker - if Edith grew a spine times ten. Mom-Ouise was not one to hold her tongue. (Lucas, I get it honestly.) They bickered and bickered...but my favorite memory of them was when I was in the eighth grade. Mom-Ouise had congested heart disease and diabetes. The doctors didn't give her much time. (She was stubborn, though, and made it two years longer than they'd given her.) My mom made monthly trips to Baltimore to help take care of Mom-Ouise that year. One time, my mom and I made the trip together. At dinner, we'd eaten Mom-Ouise's soup - her recipe. This was the soup my grandmother always had on the stove for us when we came to visit. Even if we got into town at 2 a.m., there was soup on the stove. My mom and Aunt Helen made it. But, this batch didn't have salt in it, because it had to go along with Mom-Ouise's dietary needs. My tiny 120 lb. grandmother sipped the soup and made a face. "How is it?" she asked me. "It's good," I said. "It isn't. It tastes awful. There's no salt," she said. "No, it's good," I said. (It tasted AWFUL.) She passed me the salt and winked. Mom Ouise always winked, and even when she smiled, the corners of her mouth turned down. I loved that. Later than night, my grandfather drove his ancient Ford Escort to my uncle and aunt's house where my grandmother stayed. I was in the kitchen and I heard my grandfather say to his wife, the woman he constantly argued with, "I love you, Louise." She replied, "I love you too, Bill." And I cried like an infant right there in my uncle and aunt's kitchen. And then I saw my mother standing outside the guest bedroom where they were, and she gasped and cried too. This made me cry harder, of course.
Mom-Ouise died in October of 2001. Pop, who from what my family could tell was in good condition, died in October of 2002. For a year, anytime I talked to Pop, I would ask him how he was. He would reply, "I'm lonely." I believe he died of a broken heart. He and my grandmother dated through WWII, they married in 1945 when Pop came home "without a scratch." They had four wonderful children and eight grandchildren. I am the youngest. They have seven great grand-children and one on the way. They had some epic fights. And they loved each other...hopelessly...sometimes questionably...always indefinitely...for better or for worse.
Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work. Sometimes they need to end. Sometimes they simply need Biblical patience. And time. They always need time.
If you have just started a relationship or if you've just ended one or if you're newly married or have been married for a long time (or it just feels like a long time), know this....
Louise and Bill is a great romance story - and yours is waiting for you and your loved one...if you've just found him/her, if you're still looking for him/her, or if he/she sleeps next to you every night.
Love is patient (when you have patience) and kind (when you're willing to be just that) and it stinks (only if you're unwilling to spray a little Fabreeze).
So, I guess all I'm offering with this blog is...I understand. Love is fickle. And beautiful. And messy. It is what it is. Just remember, listen to your heart, your God, yourself. When you meet a man (or woman) who hates your cooking, but eats it anyway, then orders chicken wings when you've gone to bed....perhaps he or she is worth loving a little.
* By the way, the funniest (?) bashing Lucas ever gave me was this one: he viciously called me a Republican. Ouch?
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