February 2015 – Lindsey P. Brackett

Last week I told you what’s saving my life right now. This week there’s a “holiday” around the corner so I thought I’d tell you what’s saving my marriage.

Not that it needed saving per se–but a good marriage is like a faithful car. It needs a little maintenance and every now and then, deserves something more exciting than the same mundane trip around the block.

Photo courtesy of Kimberly Brown, The Northeast Georgian.

Enter Mardi Gras. Now, we’re not French. We don’t live in New Orleans, and we’re good Southern Baptists who usually don’t make a big deal about Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday ushering in the season of Lent. (More on that later and how we’re invoking some of our own family traditions.) But our little hometown, that reminds an awful lot of Stars Hollow most days, has a big fundraiser every year. Proceeds support the Downtown Facade Grant for improvements to small businesses, and you know we love to support a small business. It’s kind of what Joshua does all day long and why he sometimes can’t answer my text messages about potty training in a timely manner.

We have friends who own small businesses and sponsored some tables for this year’s event and invited us along for the fun. Here’s the part about marriage: he didn’t want to go. Fancy dinner and dancing and socializing are not high on my introverted husband’s list of a good time. But he knew I wanted to go, and he figured it was a good excuse to see me wear something other than my favorite tunnel-neck sweatshirt.

Marriage is so often about compromise and sacrifice. Even if all you’re sacrificing is another night of Netflix and take out Chinese.

Then the worst thing possible happened to the man who is a self-proclaimed wallflower. That Mardi Gras tradition of finding the baby in the King Cake making you king of the feast? Yup.

Photo courtesy of Kimberly Brown, The Northeast Georgian.

He tried to trade it out with a friend who instead convinced him it would be fun (and I’m pretty sure mentioned something about how it would make his wife happy.) Here’s the thing–I would never have asked him to keep it. I know he hates spectacle and attention and he’s no good at accepting compliments. But he decided publicly making me his queen was worth the embarrassment. And the front page of the newspaper.

That’s when I know we have something special. He tries so hard to put my needs, wants, and desires above his own. Which makes me wonder? How often am I reciprocating?

It’s so easy to get caught up in my everyday chaos of our four kids and doctor appointments and chorus rehearsal and impossible 3rd grade homework. It’s so easy to feel like I’m giving it my all while he’s trooping off to work everyday in a quiet office where no one uses the juice box as a weapon. It’s so easy to forget the man he is when I’m just focused on myself.

It’s so easy to lash out instead of take a deep breath.

I firmly believe it’s not money or relationships or decisions that tear marriages apart. It’s communication. It’s like we forget how to navigate and listen to one another, so we bottle up frustration and pretend we’re keeping the peace, when really all we’re doing is getting ready to blow.

I’m a pursuer of words, a writer, a reader. But I’m not always a good listener. I miss the cues among the conversations because I’m so busy moving on to the next thing. I’m too busy thinking about myself. And add four really loud kids to that mix and we’ve got a recipe for communication disaster. Conversations start and stop because someone needs juice or toilet paper or a signature. We forget what we haven’t said and don’t always have the time to say what we really need.

He bought me these for Christmas.

Click image to purchase via Amazon.

Aqua notes–a waterproof notepad for the shower. He found them on a list of great gifts for writers, and he got them because he knows the shower is my quiet place. I get fifteen minutes to shut out the world and think. Then I forget the plot points or the dialogue I’ve composed because I didn’t write it down. Voila! Now I can.

But these notes have morphed into something else for us. I’ve started scribbling down my worries and fears–mostly about our daughter and the unknown journey we’re on–but also the stress points that have pushed me back to medication. I write down the words I can’t quite say, and I leave them for him to find.

He writes me back. We make decisions. We breathe a little easier. We communicate a little better.

Marriage maintenance shouldn’t be like taking in that faithful car and discovering a host of problems you didn’t know existed. It should be like getting the oil changed and hearing the engine purr again.

Then you can leave a love note in the shower and take that marriage out for a night on the town.

So I stumbled onto Modern Mrs. Darcy this week. How have I been missing her? Anne with an ‘e’, loves books, mom of four….I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know we’re soul friends. I’ll have to work on that. But she had this post about what’s saving her life, just all the random little goodies that make days easier, those thousands of gifts I count inconsistently but bow my head in gratitude for when I remember that He didn’t have to make this easy.

Saving my life right now? My chaotic, doctor appointment, insurance debacle, temper tantrum (me, not kids) life? These little fun gems. Necessary? No. Blessings? Yes. Reminders that I really do have it good and that’s the life I need to share.

Gilmore Girls on Netflix.

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I totally justify my current Loreli-Rory-Luke binge by telling myself that it’s a dialogue study. It is. Rachel Hauck wrote a post about what writers can learn from the Gilmore girls, and besides that, a girl needs background distraction when folding laundry. Right?

The iPad for the littles. They’ve taken over my iPad for their own Netflix binges that include Harry and the Bucket Full of Dinosaurs and anything with a dump truck or train. Don’t judge. It’s winter and cold and trust me, we get our fair share of imaginary play and outside time. But letting them watch what they want so the big girls can watch what they want? Sometimes that’s called saving my life and saving dinner.

Chai tea latte. It’s my new Starbucks fave. Alas, my gift cards have run out, and I’m having withdrawals. I made a version at home a few weeks ago, but sometimes it’s just worth it to cough up the few bucks and have someone else do the work. Hot, sweet, low-cal and soothing me through tough days. Thank you, Starbucks in my local Ingles.

Chic-fil-a giftcards.

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Speaking of gift cards, friends keep sending us these. They want to help at a time when we don’t know what we need, and here in the South, it’s figured that food’s always a safe bet. So we fill up on waffle fries and nuggets for them, salads and sweet tea for me, and then we head to the doctor/physical therapy/test appointment a little less stressed.

Birthday plans. Amelia’s birthday is the 19th. She’s been talking about it for months. We’re planning a little party with all her favorite things (and it’s quite a hodgepodge, let me tell you). She makes a new plan everyday. We’re also planning something special since we’ll be in Birmingham at the specialist for her birthday….maybe a pool at the hotel? To add to the birthday fun, mine’s two days after hers. There’s a cousin, an uncle, my sister, an expected baby, and my daddy’s birthday all in February too. We like to cram it all in the shortest month possible.

Chocolate. I’m taking myself to Trader Joe’s after our next neurologist appointment and buying the dark chocolate caramel popcorn my mom gave Joshua for Christmas. He didn’t mind a bit I ate it all. These days just a little chocolate hit at nap time keeps me going.

Jazzercise.

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The above would be one of the reasons I keep going to class. That and the 30 in 35 days challenge that has the cutest shirt for a prize! Jazz keeps me up to date on music too. That’s not my forte, but after an entire class of Katy Perry yesterday, I must confess, I think I might be a fan.

Unroll.me for the email subscriptions. If you don’t do this, stop reading and sign up now. Unroll.me is the personal assistant I’ve always needed. All my various subscriptions (blogs) now come in one email that I can read at my leisure. Changed my life. And my inbox.

Tsh’s ’round the world adventure. Except Tsh. I didn’t roll her up because I don’t want to miss an update of where in the world the Oxenreiders (#worldwideox) are now. Follow on Instagram for an instant passport and dream of what it would be like to go around the world with your kids. Then dream of what it would be like without them! (Probably not as fun.)

Bloggers who confess the truth about blogging. Read this today: My Slower Paced Blog from Micha Boyett. Got the link from a Tsh email, just so you know. Spoke to me profoundly. I’m not a big blogger. I’m jealous of them, I confess, but I don’t want to be a big blogger. I don’t want to have to comment on every piece of news media that’s getting twitter feed or Facebook views. I don’t want to be controversial just to get views. I don’t want to write about things that don’t inspire me. So if you’re still sticking with me, I thank you for appreciating this slow little blog that’s leading to a slowly written little novel. Because I’m a writer first and a blogger way behind all that.

And of course there’s this kid. He kills me. Makes me crazy. But gracious, I’m beginning to think God gave him to me because he makes me laugh all the time.

So what’s saving your life these chilly winter days? And where’s all that snow that was persimmon-seed forecast down here? 35 degrees is not worth it unless there’s snow.

Linking up at The Modern Mrs. Darcy.