I just
returned from the Glorious South. I did
not realize how much I missed it there until I was, after the longest Michigan
winter ever, re-immersed in its sunshine and flip flops and sweet tea. Down South little girls wear floral dresses
and have names like Lisa Marie and Tori Rae.
Their mamas have perfect pink toenails, carry Vera Bradley bags, and say things
like, “Come on, Mary Martin, nobody has time for this hissy fit today.”
Ladies lunch
outdoors and smile pleasantly at my three year old who is dancing around the
restaurant patio whilst hopped up on chocolate milk and cheesecake. They notice the concerned expression on my
face and say, “Honey, don’t you worry a thing about her! She is just precious.”
And I reply,
“Oh! I just love your accent! I used to live down here but now I’m up in
Michigan, and…” my voice trails off.
They
exchange mutual “bless her heart” glances and look back at me with
eyes full of sympathy. Then they say,
obviously, “Well, you should come back!
We’d love to have you here!”
Sigh.
The real
reason I was down South was to attend my step sister’s wedding, which was a
lovely affair. A weekend witnessing all
sorts of preparations, googly-eyed glances, and “I do’s” causes me to reflect on
the kind of advice I might offer a couple of gorgeous newlyweds.
We had to
call it an early night at the actual wedding.
After several episodes of growling and angry eyebrow wrinkling, manic
barefoot cavorting on the dance floor, and finally the announcement that, “I got a little too excited and peed in my pants,” we decided it was time to
take my three year old back to the hotel.
(You were certain I was describing my husband, George’s wedding
behavior, weren’t you?)
So sadly I
missed the inevitable point in the evening when somebody’s perfectly
well-intended cousin who’d had a few too many mint juleps, seized the
microphone from DJ Scribble Scrabble to offer his words of marital advice. “Marriage is HARD WORK,” he’d say while
looking wide-eyed at his red-faced, lovely wife of thirty years. “I mean, it’s
REAL hard work, but it’s worth it. And if
your marriage is even half as awesome as mine has been, you are in for one heck
of a ride, right, Sweetie?”
I imagine
her smiling tensely and mouthing silently, “Okay. That’s enough.” But of course he'd continue on reciting
platitudes and clichéd words of encouragement.
Things would really start to get awkward when he crumpled at the knees and
began crooning Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game. Finally when he hit the achingly high chorus,
“No, I-I-I-I-I Don’t Wanna Fall in Love…” DJ Scribble Scrabble would have the prudence to crank up the music and drown out his painful crooning with Will
Smith’s Get Jiggy With It played at
full volume. No, I wasn’t there, but I’m
pretty sure that’s exactly how it went down.
I figure twelve years of marriage, three babies, a couple of overseas moves, and everything in between has taught me a thing or two about wedded bliss and the occasional moments of wedded woe. So here is
my attempt at a little more helpful and less humiliating advice:
1.
Find
out what makes your partner feel loved, and do more of that. You can even
take the goofy quiz that is here: 5 Love Languages Profile (It really isn't goofy at all,
but I call it such because I think I am way too cool for quizzes.) I
am still waiting for my friend Marilyn Sue to make me a cross-stitched
throw pillow for my bed that says, "Have you hugged your husband
today?" because sometimes I forget that it is really that easy to make him
feel loved.
2.
Find
out what YOU love and do plenty of that. If you are not feeling filled-up
with things that satisfy you and make your life meaningful, you will feel
resentful when your partner pursues his or her passions…even if you are
the kindest, most self-sacrificing person in the world.
3.
Know
that you cannot and should not be your partner's everything. This
is called co-dependence and is rawther unhealthy. You both
should have other interests and other friends. A night out with friends
may be just what your extroverted partner needs after a tough week. A
quiet night in the guest bedroom with a book or a journal may be what an
introvert needs in order to re-charge. Don't take it personally.
4.
It
isn't particularly fun, but sort out the division of labor at your house, and
then appreciate the crap that he/she does that you don't want to do. I've
changed a lot of diapers, been grocery shopping thousands of times,
organized our kids' schedules, and cooked a bazillion meals for us. When
I start feeling like a frazzled domestic diva, I remember all of the things
that he does like: taxes, bookkeeping, home repairs, pest disposal (eek!),
assembling anything that comes with instructions, yard maintenance, opening
jars with really stuck lids, computer repairs, his laundry, and calling for
take out (an introvert's dreaded task). Just thinking about all of those
things makes me love him just a little bit more.
5.
If
you find yourself fighting fiercely about the way that she loads the
dishwasher or the fact that he STILL drinks out of the milk carton, know
that you are not really upset about either of those things and refer back to #1.
6.
Do go to bed angry. Sometimes a good night’s sleep is
really the best thing for an argument. It almost always looks better in
the morning through well-rested eyes.
7.
Shut
the door when you poop. A little mystery is a good thing. Keep
learning about each other, but know where to draw the line.
8.
Make
time to do nothing together. My favorite thing to do with my husband is
still "nothing." When we are doing nothing, all sorts of
wonderful things happen: I remember how ridiculously funny I find him, we
end up talking about things that we didn't even realize were
bothering us, and we do other important stuff that my children don't like
to think about.
9.
Be
vulnerable with your partner. Being married doesn't mean you get to stop
putting yourself out there. You grow together by continuing to take risks
and by talking about the stuff that scares the crap out of you. Be a safe
place for your partner to talk about scary, vulnerable things.
10.
Love
doesn't mean never having to say you're sorry. Keep
saying "I'm sorry" every time you act like a jerk.
And forgive your partner's jerky behavior too. Neither of you are a super
fun picnic in the park all of the time.
BONUS #11. Talk about
what you believe about parenting before you get yourself knocked up. Talk
about the good and bad parts of your own childhoods. Talk about
things that are important to you when it comes to raising your future imaginary
kids. Then be prepared to throw all of that out and take it day by day
when babies come with their own personalities and agendas and issues...or if
they do not come at all.
I love offering
unsolicited advice, and, of course, you love reading it. So, you're
welcome.
Advice of this
sort is likely wasted on newlyweds. Never could I, as a
newlywed, have imagined a day when I might forget to hug my husband or
that I'd find it almost impossible to tell him what was going through my
clouded mind after I'd boarded the postpartum bus to Crazy Town. But
I also couldn't have imagined how much more I'd love him twelve years
later. When we said those words, "For richer or for poorer; in
sickness and in health, " we meant the hell out of them, but we hadn't
lived them yet.
Now we have.
And we continue to do so. And it is wonderful and exciting and
sometimes scary and frustrating. So newlyweds, I wish you a beautiful
journey. I wish you continued growth and love during good times and
bad. And I hope you never stop laughing or finding joy in the little things.
I also hope you invite your embarrassing cousin to every future imaginary
event to which I am invited. That guy is awesome.
"Love
makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place." -- Zora Neale
Hurston
