Advice for the Happy Couple

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