The Solution to a Good Marriage

I have been married to Stallion for almost 11 years. We have known each other for almost 14 years. In a lifetime, I realize this is just a short amount of time, but in married years, it's an accomplishment. In the U.S., we have a tendency to just throw out those things that have a little wear or tear, are faded, or just plain don't fit us anymore. This seems to apply to people, too. Relationships that don't suit our needs, seem like too much work, or are "old" don't always work in our society. We are the society where new and shiny is better. I watch all the younger couples in school dropping their kids off and marvel at their ability to look good, drive nice vehicles, and seem to have it all together. I could get downright green with envy if I didn't know a special secret: that time is what really makes a life and relationship great.

I laugh when I think about my premarital courtship. We met at a mental institution. No, not as patients, but as staff, although I do feel there are times when we belonged there. We didn't start dating right away, but when we did, we dove right in. We broke up a couple of times during our 2 1/2 year dating period because we weren't what each other expected. He didn't expect me to always be right and I just plain thought he was always wrong. When we got to the point where we thought we were ready to be married, I thought that this was the best life had to offer and all would be right with our relationship-wrong! That first year, or three, were tough. I do remember a particular argument in which he provoked me while I was pregnant. I believe a Hoover vacuum came out of nowhere and went flying at my husband, but to this day, I am unsure who threw it (sorry honey). We questioned our feelings for each other and basically wanted to throw in the towel more than once. It's funny how TIME brings about change.

Here we are 10 years later and I am glad we stuck it out. He wears on me like a perfect-fitting soft cotton tee and jeans with just a little stretch. Sure there's some fading and wear, but they fit better than anything else in my closet and are what I always go back to when I want to be my most comfortable. Nothing but time could do that. If you are really making an effort, you grow to understand your partner. You learn when to push and when to lay off. You find yourself never really experiencing anything great unless you have shared it with your spouse. I often wish that people weren't so quick today. We talk, move, and live at the fastest pace possible, always thinking that there will be time for rest and enjoyment later. All the while, racing by what is truly important. I still think my husband is wrong most of the time, but I have just learned how to work around it and let him think he is right. My marriage has become the pivotal point in which all of my life circles around. Life is good.

Do Our Children Rule Our Lives?

It was presented to us this Sunday that people in our society idolize children. Back in the day (I figure this to be before 1960), children were meant to be seen and not heard. My father has reminded us that on a number of occasions. He has talked about how adults got together and children were then expected to find something to do on their own-quietly. They sat at a different table to eat. Parents were not expected to listen or entertain them. There were unspoken rules on behavior and you just "did" without having to be told-or else. I am not saying that this should be the way it is today, but I cannot help but wonder if we have not indeed swung in the complete opposite direction.

Let's take a case in point. My husband, Stallion. When not working the night shift, he is either 1. sleeping or 2. interacting with our children. He is a wonderful dad, but I almost see him as my children's playmate and entertainer. I will even go so far as to say that my boys' friends have asked if my husband can "come out to play." When my boys have friends sleepover, my husband is frequently asked to entertain them. He will chase them around the yard, throw the ball (whatever sport ball is in season), take them somewhere, or play video games with them. I am never asked. Perhaps it is because I am a girl, or more likely, because they know I won't. I am the one they come to for drinks, snacks, meals, and treats. If they have an injury, it's me. My husband is invited into the elite children's circle. a place I don't belong.

This has, at times, caused some issues in our relationship. I am, how shall I say it, high maintenance. I enjoy nice clothes, good food, good company, and adult time. As much as I love my children and care for their needs, I do not feel my whole being revolves around how I can provide nurturing stimulation for them. Maybe it is because of this detachment, I have noticed that today's youth (including my own) lack the boundaries that children once had. They refer to adults by their first names (Hey Jenny!) or they have no qualms about interrupting us while we are on the phone or even talking to another adult in person (hey mom?, excuse me, excuse me, mom?, mom?). They don't open doors for others, they burp at the table, or fart. They don't address others when they are spoken to, they don't know how to write a thank you note on paper, and basically, lack the social etiquette necessary to be considered appropriate. I often ponder how to allow my children to have fun, be boys, and at the same time, raise them so they become productive members of society capable of providing another human being with a fulfilling relationship. I am raising future men, after all. They will be someones boyfriend, husband, father, co-worker and I want them to experience joy in their lives.

That leads me to a possible solution. We need to introduce beginning socialization classes, or etiquette classes, into our children's lives. Not just telling them what to do, like in the past, but explaining to them WHY we do those things. Respect shown for others around us is respect shown for ourselves. Part of that is teaching them how to behave on their own, entertain themselves, and not rely on others to constantly provide for their nonessential needs. As I write this, Stallion is packing up all the supplies necessary for my boys to attend a weekend of basketball, hotel reverie, and skiing. Whoopee! I actually am looking very forward to this weekend, but I can hear my boys now if they read this- "Aw mom, you're no fun."

Gifts From My Man-"Stallion"

Alright, I will admit it: I LOVE getting presents. I like to pretend to myself that presents aren't important and that I don't need anything (which I don't), but I truly love receiving gifts. Sometimes it's hard for me to contain my excitement upon the receiving of these gifts. I will do the following: save my gifts to open for last in order to keep the anticipation high, smile from ear to ear and maybe giggle to myself, or stare wide-eyed at package and touch it periodically to make sure that it still exists. After it is opened, I also have to contain my thanks to the giver lest they feel like they are being accosted or are likely to experience great bodily harm. Often, I will just give a big smile, say thanks, then secretly look forward to the person leaving so I can ponder the gift.

My husband is one of the best gift-givers I have ever known. I have often expressed to him that he should offer classes to those husbands that have difficulty deciphering from her chatter what she would love and who seem to have a hard time finding their wife's gift. Every Christmas I will find boxes placed at the last minute under the tree that are for me from him. I can't wait. One year, he suggested we not buy for each other. This idea was shot down faster than a duck during hunting season. I explained how I looked forward to what he chose and every time I looked at the item, or wore it, I thought of him and his care in picking something out for me. Sometimes, those gifts are beautiful clothes that I would never buy myself because I am too cheap, or jewelry that again, I could never see spending the money on. The point is: he listens. I have found that I actually have to be careful what I say sometimes or I might receive that gift of the Chia herb garden that I mentioned I was curious about.

My friends are at times envious at my husbands gift-giving expertise. One has also made the mistake of verbalizing out loud that her husband should take lessons from Stallion (yes Tina, that's you). I honestly feel that the lesson to be learned is to listen. Giving that great gift is all about picking up little cues and looking at the person it is intended for. Gifts are definitely not what this season is about, but boy oh boy I can't wait to get mine from Heath. I'll get back to you on what it is.

Submission in a Marriage?-What Does THAT mean?

Submission. Even saying the word in my head does not bode well. It feels almost "icky" and makes me scrunch my face. Why is that? The dictionary definition refers to submission as giving up, or surrendering. It is the condition of being humble or obedient. As I am a visual learner, all I can conjure up are my dogs trying to let each other know who's boss by mounting or nipping and growling. This doesn't spark warm fuzzies, or thoughts of sugarplums and candy canes. According to the Bible, wives are to submit to their husbands. I had to wonder, was God kidding?

At the beginning of my marriage, as in most peoples marriages that I have spoken to, there seems to be a period of turmoil before there is a settling down. I remember a particularly tumultuous time where I believe my Hoover was kicked down the stairs at my angry, but unsuspecting husband much to his dismay and my own, at the knee-jerk reflex I was capable of. Mind you, I was pregnant at the time and incapable of much self-control when really upset. Soon after, I realized something would have to change if we were to succeed in this marriage and although I really wanted to think that it would have to be my husband, I was smart enough to realize that it had to start with me. He also wasn't being very receptive to my constructive suggestions about the flaws he should work on.

While watching TV one afternoon, a segment came on that was featuring a female writer that had written a book on surrendering in your marriage. I am sure the title is similar to that, but I am unsure as I write this. I knew I had to read it and ordered it soon after. It began the change in me. Often, I challenge my "stallion," especially because he likes to run free and wild with his mouth and often say things like "I command you" when he is jesting with me. He knows it gets my fur up and claws out and I will often respond with something G-rated (of course) like "no one COMMANDS me." I am wrong, though. We are commanded every day in life. I took an oath when I said my vows that binds me to, among other things, consider my husband above others and to listen, assist, and stay with him through the good, bad, and dirty-diapery. I need to accept his leadership and believe in him, while being free to offer to him my opinions and feelings on a matter. Through the years, I have come to depend on him. He does not fail me, and ultimately, I am entrusted to him for him to care for for the rest of our lives. If I believe in him, trust him, and understand the part I play in our marriage to make it a wonderful and joyous part of life, I must submit. This is not to say that I roll over and allow him to bite and nip me (notice what I left out), but that I understand the dynamics of our relationship and have a responsibility to do my part to make it work.

Others have mastered submission in marriage more so than myself. For me, it is a struggle to balance my strength and my pride with my ability to submit. The joy, I have to remind myself, is in the journey that life brings us on. Growth doesn't happen overnight, and for me, can sometimes take decades. More on this later. Woof woof!

How I Met My Man-"Stallion"

At this time of Thanksgiving, I wanted to give special thanks for my great man-"stallion." We have been together almost 15 years now and it only gets better each year. Actually, it only gets more comfortable, like a great chenille chair with down cushions. He is my best friend and the one who if I HAD to pick one person that I was forced to spend all my time with-it would be him. We, of course, wouldn't always get along and I would do most of the talking, but he would be the person, nonetheless.



I love for people to share how they met their beloved, so for those of you who don't already know or want to hear it again, I will share how my husband and I came to get together. Our first date was on my birthday, which is coming up in a couple of weeks (I'll be 25 again!). I had just moved to Oshkosh after finishing nursing school and was looking for a house or condo to purchase. I ended up in my mans condo with the realtor when the realtor stated, "You would be a good match for the young man who lives here." My man was not in the condo at the time and when I left the viewing, he was down the block walking his dog and I could only see his back. I did not buy the condo and thought nothing else of it. I was a psychiatric nurse and wanted to work at the state mental hospital in Winnebago. I applied, was accepted, and wound up on the same unit as my man (there were 13 units at the hospital at that time, and no, he was not a patient). We worked together, and as he would exclaim to anyone who will listen, I eventually asked him out. The rest is full of the usual highs and lows with the end result being a long marriage and many boys. Life is good.



I love the story of how we found each other and it instills in me the belief that we are truly matched and were meant to be together. Of course, I need to remind myself of this everytime he decides to be a little lippy with me. So, I would like to start out the season of Thanksgiving by being thankful for my spouse. The joy I find in the comfort of having him is indescribable and such a blessing. I would love to hear other stories of how people met. Write and let me know!

The Bedroom- A Private Oasis

Recently, I decided to redecorate the master bedroom. Prior, my husband would tell you that it reminded him of the scene from The Wizard of Oz where they are all running through the field of poppies to get to the Emerald City. Yes, it was yellow and yes, there were flowers-lots of flowers. I felt a need for a little estrogen in my house where there was so much testosterone. Needless to say, not an oasis for my man. As I felt the need for a change in the decor, I found myself asking-What do I want the room to say to us? How do I want it to feel? (this is what I would ask my clients for redecorating their spaces) The answer: French Sex

NOW, before you click off this blog, thinking how inappropriate I am being, let me explain. My husband and I love each other, have been together 14 years, married 12, and have 5 children-4 of them still at home. Done with explanation. We need a place that speaks to our private lives and provides comfort. My thoughts realized, I started the makeover with zeal and a tight budget. I LOVE shopping for a bargain, especially when decorating. Above, you will see the almost finished product (I still want a faux fur rug for the floor). I was pleased with the overall effect, as was my husband, although he was getting discouraged with all the packages arriving in the mail and wondering about the cost and whether I held a fancy for the UPS man. Including the paint, I managed to repurpose items, buy new, and get it all for under $300. That's a deal. Looking at it, I am not sure how truly "French" it is, but it was just an idea anyway. I knew I had accomplished what I set out to do when my husband said "enough, it is starting to look like a brothel" (he has such man-taste) and one boy who was visiting for a playdate looked in and said "COOL!"

(now, that kid has good taste)

Finding the joy: It's nice when we can please those we love.

P.S. I would like to give credit where credit is due: Holly, if you're reading, thank you for your help. I hope you like the end product that you gave ideas on.