The Right Decision

The Language of Marriage

I was washing dishes and saw a spider web strung from the side of my faucet to outer space somewhere. Deftly, I swung my finger through the web and continued to wash the dishes. But, oddly enough, the web was still there. "Good night," I thought, "my depth perception has gotten terrible." And I more slowly and carefully used my finger to swipe the web - only the web didn't break.

It was a tough strand, so I used two hands to tear the web, but the problem was that it wasn't a web. It was a leak. A leak shooting a fine spray of refreshing water right out the side of the faucet thingie.

Later, Checkered assured me he would stop and get a new faucet, and I cheerily replied, "Thanks, Sweetheart. Just be sure that it's pretty." And like a good husband should, those words stopped him in his tracks.

My man-friend and I got to discussing the faucet and the fact that Checkered was picking out a new one. My friend said, "Oh no. What that really means is that he is going to pick you up and you are going to pick-out the faucet."

"Ha! No, no, no. We have a wonderfully symbiotic marriage. What he picks out will be exactly what I would have picked out."

"You'll be at the store tonight," the friend said.

Checkered tried. He really did. Two pictures later and two thumbs down from me, he came home to retrieve me and off we went to Lowes.

The new faucet is chrome and really doesn't belong on the well-worn stainless sink, but we both like it and that's that.

P.S. Last night Checkered suggested that we put stainless sinks in the newly painted bathroom vanity. I think he was kidding, but it's quirky enough that I like the idea. What do you think?

Checkered: 2 Caution: 1

I have a man friend. Yes, a man. We like to chat after our kids go into school in the mornings and we talk while we wait for them to emerge from the school in the afternoon. Our paths also cross at various after-school events. It's a comfortable acquaintance and no big deal except that Checkered isn't thrilled that I have a man friend who is more comfortable with me than he is with Checkered.

Then, the other night, Checkered got a call from a PTA person. She loves my husband. Really. Truly. He's her go-to guy for certain school events, and how she can't stop thanking him is a bit sickening. She even noticed that Checkered shaved his beard off before I did. I think she needs more fast food. That might satisfy her need to gush and ooh and aah over something.

And gushing women and fast food reminds me of a certain teacher who was a bit too enthusiastic about my husband showing up to a Valentine's Day party. I had worked in her classroom several times that year. Not one thank-you from her. Then the party was planned and I suggested to Checkered that he go to spend school time with our child. I reminded him. I volunteered to stay home yet one more day with our younger kids so he could go. And that teacher who had not appreciated how I had juggled schedules to help in her classroom, couldn't stop gushing over Checkered at that party. She announced to the other adults that he deserved a medal for being at the party. "Oooh, Mr. Flag, how wonderful that you are here." "What a great dad you must be!" The mothers at that party - to whom the teacher did NOT speak that day - were quick to call me and report Checkered's great triumph.

So, after much brainstorming, I have a solution. Really, there is only one thing to do. Let's hope the teacher and the PTA lady don't recognize the new, incognito Checkered.

''

(I happen to think you're even sexier this way, Checkered!! And you're all mine:)

15 Reasons for 15 Years

1. I love the way your hand feels when it touches my face.
2. I love sitting next to you in church.
3. I love how our eyes meet in social situations and we never have to say a word to communicate.
4. I don't understand it, but I love how you get such satisfaction from cleaning out a drawer.
5. I love how you can fix anything.
6. I love how you love our kids.
7. I love how kind you are to my sisters and my parents.
8. I love that you share my passion for all things ice cream.
9. I love how hard you worked to get those degrees.
10. I love how you don't mind indulging my desire to be chauffeured around town.
11.I love how you don't mind if I watch Mystery Diagnosis in bed (okay, you do, but you're nice about it.)
12.I love that you didn't laugh when I wanted to learn to do one chin-up, but bought me a chin-up bar instead.
13. I love that you care enough to fret about how we're going to pay for our kids' college tuition.
14. I love how you make me laugh.
15. I love how you tell me multiple times every single day, "I love you."

Let's have just as much fun during the next 15 years!

Finding a Balance

My friend called at 7 o'clock on Sunday night. She was very, very tired, but had much to accomplish before bed. My call was on that list. We spent a good amount of time analyzing her tiredness. After church, she went home and cooked, served, and then cleaned the kitchen. From there it was on to washing floors, doing multiple loads of laundry, decorating the house for Christmas, planning a party for the church youth group, and getting her entire family ready for Monday. At some point in there, she realized that while she had yet to sit down, her husband had yet to sit up.

She checked and realized that he was not dead, nor was he ill. He simply didn't share her list of things to do, and for that she was beyond annoyed.

In the early days of their marriage, she was a stay at home mom and felt it was her duty to be totally responsible for the house. Her husband went to work every day to provide for my friend and their MANY children. At times, she resented what he did not do at home, but guilt would not allow her to suggest any change.

Then the husband's employment changed drastically and my friend went to work outside the home. But the division of labor within the home did not change.

She made me think about my marriage and how things operate here. Checkered and I certainly have our individual strengths and weaknesses, but at some point in our marriage we reached a tacit agreement that the house, the shopping, the kids and their academic and social commitments, the budgeting of time and money, the lawn and snow removal, and everything else was not HIS responsibility nor was it MY responsibility. All these things were OUR responsibilities. So we juggle, and get frustrated sometimes, and snip, and work together. We're absolutely a team. And by the end of most days, we can still smile at each other.

When each of our children was born, I began to pray for the people they would marry. I pray for Lord's protection and blessing on their emotional, physical, and spiritual health. Now I think I might throw in a little extra prayer. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if that boy and those three girls who will someday love our daughter and sons really understood the concept of partnership, thoughtfulness, and sharing in marriage?

Do Not Silence Me

On Tuesday our kids went to school. This is a big year for us because it is the first time all four kids are in school all day. So on the first morning after they had all been taken to school, Checkered and I were at a loss how to spend the long day. We could have cleaned the house or finished up the laundry or taken a walk, but it was 90 degrees and gloriously sunny.

So what we did was take our little, old boat out to the lake and cruised around. Without the kids in the boat, we hit a record breaking 23 miles per hour! For two hours we rode and rode and looked at shacks and mansions, and seaweed, and anything else we could see. I thought of 2.3 million things that I needed to say during the course of that ride, but there was one little problem.

In order for me to talk, Checkered had to stop the boat, put the engine in neutral and I had to yell. By the time we went through that a bit, what I had to say didn't seem so pressing or brilliant and I remained quiet.

And so you wonder what vital lesson I learned through that experience?

What I learned is that I despise having my talking curtailed.

Profound, ain't it?

The Range Officer

My husband is a range officer.  It's a high and mighty and powerful and cool title.  It's also a little bigger title than  job.  What it really means is that he occasionally teaches cub scouts how to shoot bows and arrows and bb guns.

What it also means is that when he has to teach, I have to go to camp with him.  For example, yesterday he was in charge of a scout camp.  Because he was going to be obligated to stay with the ranges all day and because our three boys would be participants and because the boys could swim and fish when they weren't shooting, and because the boys couldn't do that without a parent (there! we are almost at the end of the run-on sentence,) I had to go to camp with the cub scouts.  Again.

And what all that means is that I had to get up yesterday before God created daylight. 

 And I was so tired that I put on a my most ill-fitting bra.  And that meant the wires poked my underarms all day.  And camp was a place you might see in the movie Deliverance.  And mosquitoes go there for terrorist training.  And there are lots of leaves of three/let them be thingies there.

But I AM the range officer's wife, so I endured.

The range officer is allowed to wear a scout leader uniform.  If Checkered actually donned a scout leader shirt, our friends would pour more laughter and teasing on him than could be carried in a 10-gallon bucket.    But here's my little secret:  if he were to wear that scout leader shirt, well ... the range officer's wife could be very, very impressed.  How absolutely odd am I that I would think my husband in a scout uniform would be sexy?

Oh yes, girls.  These are the burdens known only to the range officer's wife.