Why being married sucks...

(No, Heather W., this is not a cry for help.  Do not pick up your phone to call a divorce attorney.)

So, Dan is my biggest fan.  Being my biggest fan, he is also my biggest critic.  After yesterday's blog post (don't try to look for it, I deleted it) he said "are you sure about that?" in that luring way that made me think he knew something I didn't.

Apparently he did.

I wrote from my heart... and apparently scared people that something in my life was falling apart (which it often is), so I just deleted it.  End of story.

Tonight, Dan is in even more trouble.  I'll get there... but let me give you some background:

For years now, I've had a recurring dream that we have an entire wing of our house that we don't use.  Sometimes in the dream I'm living back in the RMH and if you go through the guest room, you find this hidden wing.  Sometimes it's our current house, and I find out there's a whole 'nother area that we don't actually know about.  It's magical.  And, I won't lie, when I wake up I'm often disappointed that I don't have that space.

I'm not psychiatrist, but I think that dream stems from the fact that I have a WHOLE FLOOR of my home that doesn't get properly "used".  Downstairs we have two enclosed rooms (and some bonus storage under the stairs) that end up being junk rooms.  One is a room purely for storage... it has been less than functional for the nearly 3 years we've been here.  One is a random room that houses our treadmill and Ms. Pac-man game and liquor cabinet and gift closet.  (This sounds like the perfect room, huh?)  Recently it's where Dan's mom unloaded boxes and boxes of his childhood crap (don't hear me say that my mom hasn't already done that same nasty trick) and our other stuff has been just, well, cluttered on top of that.

So today, on the perfect day for such a task, I conquered the downstairs rooms.  If I were cool, I would show you a before, during, and after picture.  However, I was so overwhelmed and embarrassed by the "before", I wouldn't let the paparazzi downstairs to capture it in all it's glory.  The "during" was one giant purging and sneeze fest.  And now the "after" is, well, still "during" to be honest.  While I will take some time away for it for now, it will need some attention later.  But, all that said, I spent over FIVE HOURS pouring through the crap of my Americanized Hoarding Pack Rat Emotional self and could not feel better about that time.

While all that was happening, Dan was upstairs with Elizabeth... watching TV, reading books, watching videos to prep her to ride "Test Track" in a few weeks, baking homemade cookies, playing dolls (don't tell him I told you that), playing Jenga, and being the recipient of loads and loads of unexpected kisses.

For sure, I chose to be downstairs cleaning.

And, for sure, I am jealous of Dan's day.

Now, 60% of the time, Dan goes to work and leaves me to have my own days with E.  However, I live by lists... and if I took entire days doing what he did today, we would run out of groceries, never have clean clothes, never have paid bills, and lose touch with all of our family and friends.  But why can't I grasp the simplicity of how he chose to spend his day and at least have more days that are kinda like that?

Here's the rub: given the chance to do today over, I would still choose to clean downstairs.  Seriously, people, it's been YEARS in the making... and it affects my stress level constantly... but why do I feel as though I am talking about both sides of my mouth here?

So, with an exhausted mind and body, I went to bed before Dan did.  I grabbed my book (an excellent read that I bought someone for Christmas and they've already passed back to me!) and crawled in bed... and soon after fell asleep.

Here comes the hard part: Captain Dan, unaware that I am asleep (as I am still in the "reading" posture) comes in and loudly says "Have you looked outside lately?!?!?!?"  (He wanted me to check out the snow... nothing major.)

Um, nope.

Because I was asleep, dummy.

He apologizes, brushes, flosses, gets in bed, and within minutes, begins to snore.

And me?  Well, I'm now awake.  His intrusion in my dreamland has left me WIDE awake.  Left with the only logical thing to do: to blog about how much being married to him sucks.  Because it does.  It sucks to be married to a man who loves my daughter, who will constantly be her prince as she plays princess, who will allow her to pick her own ingredients for their homemade cookies, who disciplines lovingly, who helps her clean her room when she can't figure out what she's missed, who reads my blog and questions whether or not I meant to say something in the way in which I did... wait... I guess it doesn't suck.  My bad.

This post, however, will have to wait to get his discerning eye until the morning... when he wakes up... because HE IS ASLEEP AND I AM NOT.  Right, he sucks again.

I'm off to finish my book... stupid marriage.

Dear Elizabeth, This is why I love your Dad.

Dear Elizabeth,

Today I read yet another poignant devotion by Jen Hatmaker.  (I know, I know... by the time you'll be reading this, I'm sure Jen will have decided to move to Winston-Salem to be one of my Besties... or, quite possibly, I'll be in some women's prison after violating a restraining order she placed against me.  I'm kind of obsessed with her.  Missed the link yesterday to her latest book?  Here is is again.)

Today, sweet girl, she gently reminded me how important it is to tell you how much I love your daddy.  Truthfully, I likely would have been better served to read that yesterday, but I digress.  Today it reminded me that a house divided will not stand... so let me tell you why we are a house united.

Your daddy and I started flirting around Halloween 1999.  The beginning of November (yep, like whole-days later) I ended up in the hospital due to an asthma attack... and your daddy, the med student, came and asked me out.  Your Mimi was thrilled he asked me out- not that she'd met him or anything- but because he was a med student.  (I think she was ready to be done with footing my bill and saw dollar signs in her daughter's future... at the time she didn't realize he was called to a psychiatrist to people who can't always pay for his services.)

I'm gonna be honest- while I was thrilled at the possibility of a date with a fun boy I'd been flirting with, I was a little hesitant:

• He was wearing a fugly (don't use that word, E) red sweater at the time he asked me out.
• He went to Duke.  (seriously.  ugh.)
• He was way shorter than the guys I'd dated before who were much more "my type".

But I went... and then here is where things got even funnier:

• He came to pick me up in his mini-van.  (yep.)
• I offered to pay for dinner... and he freakin' let me.  (yep.)
• He spent most of dinner telling me about some "rich" friends of his family and how smart he was (see above: Duke... ugh.)

Not much reason for Date #2?  Given those facts... you're right.  But while we were at the theater (score one for your Dad!  Not the movie theater, but the North Carolina Theater where saw "The Music Man"!) we sat behind a mom and her little girl- who actually happened to be about the age you are now.  Your daddy turned to me and said "I can't wait to have kids one day.  Do you want to have kids?"  At the time it seemed perfectly natural that he'd mention this.  But it was on a first date.  Seriously.  Guys don't do that... usually until way later.  Looking back at this I realize how this was the hand of God in our relationship... He tempered all of the things your Daddy did that were "odd" to me by giving this small insight into your Daddy's heart.

What I saw was this: A guy who was not afraid of looking like he's anticipating a family, even when it's not so cool to admit things like that... especially on a first date. And I chose to get to know that guy a little better... then I discovered these things:

• Someone who loves to explore new places... which is why our road trips take extra long.
• Someone who makes me laugh at ridiculous things... which is why Funniest Home Videos is not automatically turned off now- it's worth it to watch your Daddy laugh.
• Someone who knows lots of things about lots of things (and maybe even thinks he knows more than he really does sometimes, but we'll keep that our little secret.)
• Someone who is an amazing cook.
• Someone who wants to share all we have with people who need it.
• Someone who doesn't care about being in a part of medicine that is not as well respected as others... because he knows this is how he can impact the lives of his patients by living out what he, specifically, is called to do.
• Someone who randomly quotes grammar "rules" when I misuse grammar... and now I quote the same rules, too.  (Condition to contrary fact requires future tense.)
• Someone who understands that even though I'm a huge extrovert, my introvert side needs to recharge by being alone... and gladly uses those times to be with you and teach you new things.
• Someone who understands that I'm a huge extrovert, and gladly uses time when I'm off being social to be with you and teach you new things.
• Someone who understands that I need to be with him (without you!) and gladly pays for babysitters.
• Someone who takes my job as a stay-at-home mom seriously, and sends me thank you notes occasionally to remind me just how important it is.
• Someone who "gets" Glee.
• Someone who has gone to numerous Barenaked Ladies and James Taylor concerts because he appreciates my love of them... and who gladly opted out of Jay-Z for the same reason.
• Someone who was willing to send me off to Washington, DC with one of my besties even though he was dying to be there, too, because he knew it was important for me to have that chance.

And most importantly:

 

• Someone who loves God most, and you and me next.  We've been trying to teach you this truth lately, Miss E, and your Daddy does a good job of showing you.  He has admitted to you how hard it is to say he loves God more than us, but he's working on it each day.  And because of that example, we can work on it, too.  He loves you so much... and that makes me love him more because of it.

I'm thankful I stuck it out with that guy who drove a mini-van, who made me pay for our first meal together, who talked a lot about himself at dinner, and who showed me that he values family.  Even today when he makes me stop what I'm doing about 400 times to help him find a DVD or the keys that he's misplaced... I'd do it all again.  He makes me crazy sometimes, but I'm crazy about him, so it all balances out in the end.  And even though lately you keep calling him "your" prince... he's actually mine.  But I'll let you share him until God shows you who yours is... be ready to find one that might not look like your "type"... because His type is far better.