She Likes Purple

Seven

(six, five, four, three, two, [and my personal favorite] one) 

We've been married seven years today. Mike's out of town, I have a work dinner tonight, and it's Monday. Seven years ago today was a wee bit more magical than actual today. (And seven years ago today had an open bar, which today absolutely does not have. SIDE EYE TO TODAY.)

It's our copper anniversary and I had big plans of surprising Mike with fancy new copper kitchen pots, but then Molly got sick to the tune of multiple thousands of dollars (!!!) right after we got back from an international vacation, so yeah. Pots will have to wait. Instead I spent half an hour searching for pennies from each year we've been married so I could glue them into the shape of a seven. Here babe! I got you eight pennies that you can never actually spend! 

I heard a line from a movie recently (About Time), and I teared up, like the ridiculous sap that I will always be, but this is precisely how I feel about Mike. I'm paraphrasing, but...

I am so uninterested in a life without him.

Mike and I have been to St. John and Belize and Puerto Rico and Canada and all over the U.S., but it was just the other night, sitting in a booth at Chili's five miles from our house when he made me laugh so hard I was reminded that he is just my favorite place. Traveling, not traveling, drinking cheap wine at Chili's or pina coladas in Belize, paying bills or holding hands. He's it. Life is life and love is him. (Even when I need a girl's night away from him. I'm still glad he's the one waving me out the door and into the arms of a margarita with friends.)

Last year was a hard year. A lot of unbloggable, stupid life stuff, but I struggled. Stressed out, snappy, emotional, yada yada. And Mike was just there. Just asking what he could do, telling me to go take a break when he sensed I was too tightly wound, wrapping me in a hug even when he wasn't quite sure why I was so badly in need of one. I want it all to make sense and to be fixable but it can't always be, such is life, and when it can't be, he says to me the same thing over and over, "It will all work out. It will all be okay."

And it will. With him, it will.

Our lives are not always easy or fun or romantic or any of those adjectives our wedding day made us hope our every day lives would be. Very few days have that open bar, for example. 

But, damn, I'm just so uninterested in a life without him. 

Happy copper anniversary, babe! Here are a handful of pennies you can never spend, but I bet you tell me you love them and I bet you mean it. 

Post-Its

When Mike and I first started dating, I used to leave him post-it notes, around his house, on his car windshield. (This was pre-social media, pre-excessive texting.) I'd tell him to have a good day, wish him luck on such-and-such quiz, thank him for an awesome date the night before, and I even wrote a few notes pretending to be Molly. ("Take me for a walk. I can bite you in your sleep, you know?" I thought I was hilarious.)

He saved them all, dozens of post-its going on and on about how awesome I thought 2004 Mike was. 

I stumbled upon the box last week, searching for things to put on our nostalgia wall. It softened me instantly because I was so obviously a girl in love. I fell quick and hard for Mike, and it's funny looking back on those early love notes. I didn't hide it nearly as well as I thought I did. 

I think Mike is just as awesome these days (although, oh boy, did I find his disregard for the dishes cuter in 2004 than I do in 2013). I try to tell him as such, that I think he's great and I still feel so lucky for him, but there is a lot more working, parenting, commuting, cooking, and bill-paying going on these days. I call him to ask if he changed our insurance policy and to remind him to put Kyle's soccer games on his Google calendar, and I forget to say "Also, you looked great this morning."

It's fine, we're fine, we're better than fine, in fact, but sometimes "You look good" is just NICER to hear than "Make sure you take the trash out."

We had a lot more time to fill up post-its with sweet thoughts back then, that's true. We were drinking beer and going to class, start and stop of our lives (I MISS YOU COLLEGE), but I somehow found the time to watch two entire Veronica Mars episodes (that I'd already seen a BAJILLION times before) last night, so we have less time but just as much time too. We're busier but still lazy. 

Basically writing a note takes no time at all if you just make the time to do it. A box full of notes reminded me of that.

So, yeah, I bought a whole pack of post-its on Amazon the other day. 

2013 Mike is awesome, and he deserves a few brightly colored reminders. 

Sixth Anniversary

(The iron and candy anniversary! Or, as I'm calling it, a nice excuse to eat a lot of Almond Joys.)

You know what they didn't tell me at my bridal shower? That some time over the course of our marriage, Mike would upset me or that on more than one occassion we'd fight our way past midnight and that, also, I wouldn't fit into my wedding dress beyond my wedding night. 

I understand why we played shower games and toasted champagne and ate cupcakes (of course my shower had cupcakes) instead of talking about the nitty-gritty. Those parties are about the fun stuff, the cupcakes and the champagne.

Marriage isn't a wedding or a shower or a party or a bunch of cupcakes, though. It's different and harder and better and more important. 

What they also didn't tell me at my shower, though, is that Mike would turn out to be the kind of man who apologizes with real grace after those midnight fights, who shows up to talk about the tough stuff even though talking about the tough stuff is like his 1576th favorite thing, if he's rating his favorite things. He turned out to be the guy who hears me when I really need to be heard. He is the man who has never said no when I tell him I need a big hug or an afternoon to myself or for him to sacrifice something he wants for something I need. 

Life is weird, isn't it? Six years ago, I was in a lovely wedding dress and last night I was in yoga pants, and both days, both places, were beautiful. 

You know what my favorite thing is, if I am rating my own favorite things? Mike's laugh. When he laughs, I swear the world brightens. I would rate it top of the list because he gave that same laugh to Kyle, so Kyle's laugh is my second favorite thing. I'd say it feels extra awesome if I'm the one who has made either of them laugh, but I'll take the sound however I can get it. Mike's laugh, man. It's the best. That's not a catchphrase. It really is the best.

That's one thing I could have told you at my bridal shower. That Mike's laugh starts in his eyes, and it's the best sound I've ever heard. 

There have been fights, oh have there been (and there will be more) and Mike will upset me many more times in our lifetime and who the hell knows if I'll ever fit in that wedding dress again, but every single day I've gotten to hear Mike laugh has been a good day. I've never stopped loving that sound, that guy, nine years after meeting him, six years after marrying him. He didn't give Kyle his hair, but he gave him that laugh. It starts in both their eyes.

I loved Mike so much on our wedding day, I couldn't even stand it.

I love him even more today. 

(One of my favorite wedding pictures, of us listening to my SIL give a beautiful toast.)

Six years! Pass the candy.

Washington, DC: Part One

Our DC trip snuck up on us (as you might remember, we quickly went from a June Alaskan trip to an April DC one), and as we rode the shuttle from the parking lot to the terminal at DFW, I snapped a picture of us that kind of hiliariously summed up our preparedness for the trip.

We look so confused! And tired! Are we...going on vacation or are we going into a stressful work meeting? No one can be sure.

Anyway, the flight itself was thankfully uneventful. We got into DC, grabbed a Super Shuttle, and finally arrived at our hotel. (Quick travel math: Dulles arrival + Super Shuttle ride + Dupont Circle hotel = A MILLION TOTAL TRAVELING HOURS.) We booked our hotel room at the Topaz Hotel through Kristin, a blog friend who does travel advising, and when I mentioned to a few people that it was a Kimpton property, they told me you could request a goldfish be delivered to your room. 

A goldfish! 

I was quite excited by this because I think what our travels have really been missing is pets. I did have a brief panicked moment right before I got to the counter to request the goldfish because what if my friends had steered me wrong? What if they DIDN'T offer free goldfish and I requested one and things got awkward?

Thankfully, there was no issue and Spike (what I named him) was delivered to our room without incident.

(From top to bottom, left to right: Mike and me at Good Stuff Eatery, us in front of the beautiful Capitol building; Spike, our fish!; the Library of Congress)

After we welcomed Spike to our room, we headed out for another Spike. Spike's Good Stuff Eatery! The burgers and fries were just so-so, sadly, but the milkshakes. Guys, THE MILKSHAKES ARE GAME CHANGERS. 

Mike and I split a mini-toasted marshmallow shake and then went back two more times on our trip to enjoy our own, non-mini-sized ones.  

(MINI IS TOO SMALL)

After dinner, we walked around the mall, catching our breath at every turn. To see this place come alive in front of us, a place we see in movies and in pictures and in textbooks was just incredible, I nearly cried a dozen times. Maybe it was the history major in me, or the eternal sap, or both, but what a breathtaking part of our country. I felt really lucky to be there.

We stopped in the Air & Space Museum before it closed that day and then we headed back to our hotel room. 

We made it back that night to enjoy the complimentary happy hour in our hotel lobby (ANOTHER reason to only stay at Kimpton properties from now until forever), and I requested one glass of wine to enjoy in the lobby and one to enjoy in our hotel room. Yes, I requested two glasses in one hour's time, and I was a little hesitant to do this. Was that...overstepping the complimentary happy hour boundaries? When I went up to ask for the second glass, I said, "I'd like to take this glass to our room. Is that...can I...IS THAT ALLOWED? SHOULD I PAY FOR THE SECOND GLASS." The happy hour bartender got a glimpse into why I rarely drank in high school. I am very much a rule follower and I have a deep fear of authority. I didn't want to break any rules! HAPPY HOUR RULES! LIKE THERE IS SUCH A THING!

Anyway, I think I took a long bath and then crawled into bed at 7:30pm that night, where we watched a movie, ordered room service dessert, and remembered why vacations are so lovely. 

(When I told Mike that a book, a bed, and a glass of wine is basically my favorite scenario, he said, "You know, you could read and drink wine in bed at home ANY TIME YOU WANT." I hate when he makes so much sense. STOP MAKING SENSE, MIKE.)

The next day, we slept in and met Caitlin (!!) for lunch at Sweetgreen, which was absolutely delicious. Texas, go ahead and open a handful of these. We also got a tour of Caitlin's office. She works at National Geographic and Mike suggested I apply. If he thought my commute NOW makes me bitchy!

(Us, at National Geographic! This was just the hallway. We're very bad at choosing photo backgrounds.) 

After lunch, we headed back to the mall and walked around a lot. We had dinner reservations, so I told Mike that the one thing I absolutely had to do before dinner was see the White House. 

Guys.

We saw the freaking White House, and I had to AGAIN stop myself from tearing up. The White House! (I'm like the most cliche tourist there ever was.) President Obama was sadly out of town this day, which explains why he didn't come out and invite us in for dinner. 

Two little boys were standing beside us as we snapped pictures, and one said to the other, "What do you think is INSIDE there?" The other, "Probably a really big tennis court." 

From there we walked to dinner at Zaytinya with Mike's uncle, aunt, and cousin. (Seems like we had JUST eaten lunch, I know, but I swear there were MILES of walking between lunch and dinner. So many miles. We were so tired and hungry by the time dinner rolled around.)

Dinner was fantastic, and I recommend this place to anyone who is looking for a meal in DC. Favorite dishes: hummus, the crispy Brussel sprouts (OMG, these were amazing), and the crab cakes.

When we got back to the hotel, we headed next door for a drink at the Tabard Inn where we saw Janet Napolitano, although we only KNEW it was her after asking the waitress who the Secret Service dudes were with. Still, DC, you are so charming with all your politicians, just having drinks in the same bar as us. In Dallas, I've seen David Archuleta and Jake Pavelka. NOT THE SAME.

(At Tabard Inn, cocktails and flash photography)

The next day we headed out of town, and Mike had no idea where we were going. I TOTALLY surprised him. That's part two, my friends. Check back sometime in August for that recap.

A Day in the Life

(inspired by Janssen)

I nearly titled this "A Typical Day" but I realized there's just no typical day for us. Our lives are all over the place, and that's probably true for a lot of you, too. We try to create routines but damn if life doesn't make that hard. (Shaking my fist at life...)

Anyway, I wanted to record our steps for an entire day not because my life is all that interesting (oh, it's so not as you'll find out at about 10am) but because this is the kind of thing I'm going to enjoy looking back on one day.

7am: Kyle wakes me up, and I give him my phone to play with so I can steal ten more minutes of sleep.

7:10am: Okay, I'm up! I get Kyle breakfast and he eats while I take a shower. I remind him that when I get out of the shower he'll need to get dressed for school. 

7:20am: I'm out of the shower and Kyle goes (slowly, oh so slowly) to his room to get dressed. 

7:30am: I'm dressed and getting ready and Kyle comes into the bathroom so I can tie his shoes.  

7:35am: Kyle gives Mike a kiss and hug goodbye while I pack his bag for soccer practice after school. Kyle reminds me not to forget his soccer ball. 

7:40am: I grab a granola bar to eat in the car.

7:42am: I kiss Mike good-bye and tell him to have a good day. He hugs me for just an extra second. Funny how much I need that extra second.

7:45am: We're out of the house! Not exactly on time but good enough. On the way to the car Kyle sees a bunny that lives in our backyard and he gets so excited. I tell him that means we'll have good luck all day and then we wave good-bye to the bunny. Kyle says, "Have a great day, bunny! And you too Molly!" We drive off, waving.

(Bunny spotting!)

8:05am: We pull up to Kyle's school, which is usually just five minutes door to door. It took so much longer because, well, traffic. 

8:07am: Forgot the tuition check, so I run out to the car to get it. We're using the loose definition of run here, of course.

8:10am: Back in the car and on my way to work. 

8:23am: Remember my granola bar! It's the little things.

8:27am: Hit some unexpected traffic. (You know those six-word memoirs that were all the rage for a while? One of mine would absolutely be: Well shit, got stuck in traffic.)

(Unexpected traffic face with bonus Kendra Scott earrings!)

9:07am: Finally get to work, a few minutes late. 

9:15am: I make a cup of coffee (uh, of course) and chat quickly with my favorite co-worker.

9:20-10:30am: So many emails. I worked late the night before, getting my inbox under control, but I still come in to about 50 new ones I need to respond to or forward along. Also, my to-do list. It's very long.

10:30am-12:00pm: More work. It's a rare morning that I don't have a meeting or call, so it feels downright luxurious to put my head down and charge through my to-do list, uninterrupted. You are now oozing with jealousy of my rocking life, I'm sure. 

12pm: Leave for lunch. I have a work meeting with a local author, to go over her marketing plan.

12:13pm: Arrive for lunch, begin perusing the menu. Oh, menu perusing is one of my favorite things. 

(Settled on a Caesar salad with a side of salmon.)

1:45pm: Head back to the office. 

2pm: Call with a company we hope to advertise with. 

2:12pm: Call is done! Oh, under-15-minute calls are my very favorite.

3pm: Afternoon coffee and note writing. I know, afternoon coffee should be a very bad decision but my body is miraculous in that caffeine works on it (as it should) but it doesn't stop me from falling asleep whenever I'd like to.

4:40pm: Head out early, so I can make it to Kyle's school in time for soccer practice. 

5:37pm: Pull into Kyle's school. Chat with his teacher for a few minutes and head to the school bathroom to change Kyle into his soccer clothes. Oh, look! I forgot one of his cleats, so he has to wear his regular shoes. He is not thrilled with me for this. (Kyle is very rigid about few things but what he wears is one of them.) We have a brief heart-to-heart about how mommy might disappoint him on a much grander scale in the future, and I'm super sorry about the shoes but can we shake it off and move on? Eventually, we do. 

6:03pm: Pull into the soccer field parking lot. Again, the soccer field is five minutes, tops, from Kyle's school. Traffic can suck it. 

(He's briefly forgiven me for the cleat incident.)

6:06pm: Kyle realizes I ALSO forgot his water bottle. (There IS a water fountain directly next to the soccer fields, I'd like it noted.) He yells across the field to me, sititng on the bleachers, "MOMMY, YOU FORGOT EVERYTHING." I briefly think about pretending he doesn't belong to me (but all the parents know me) and then I briefly think about yelling back, "OH REALLY? DID I FORGET YOUR SOCCER BALL? NO I DID NOT." but that doesn't seem super mature (although it does seem super accurate). "Sorry, buds!" I yell back. I say a silent "you're welcome" to all the other parents for owning the "lamest soccer parent" award of the night. 

7pm: Soccer practice is over. I call Mike to give him a heads up we're on our way home. 

(Post-practice silliness and, uh, we're not driving here, I feel the need to clarify. I mean, of course we're not! He's not even buckled in! But "feeling the need to clarify" is one of the gifts the internet has given me.)

7:17pm: We pull into the driveway. Oh, it feels good to be home. 

7:19pm: Mike bought me flowers, and they're waiting for me on the table. This feels a little stagey for this post but I swear he is not a regular flower-buyer. He bought me some for Valentine's and then, before that, uh maybe our fourth anniversary in 2011. This night is a coincidence! Swear it!

7:20pm: I'm in yoga pants and QUICKLY. That's how I roll. 

7:30pm: Mike makes Kyle a PB&J sandwich for dinner (I wish I had whipped up some delicious meal for dinner on this day, to impress all of you, but sandwiches is ALSO how I roll.) Mike then makes me a fried egg sandwich. 

(With Doritos on the side. NUTRITIOUS.) 

8pm: Kyle brushes his teeth, washes his face, etc. while I ... tweet, I'm sure.

8:20pm: Story time. I think I read a Berenstain Bear book this night.

8:25pm: Mike came in and we had family story time for a couple minutes. Mike made funny noises, Kyle cracked up, I tried to keep everyone focused on the plot of the story (unsuccessfully). Hugs! Kisses! 

8:36pm: Big plans to go work-out.

8:37pm: In bed.

9pm: Asleep.

I'd like to do this once a month (I see a book-type-thing created with my once-a-month "Day in the Life" posts) but, in reality, I bet you get another one of these posts in 2014. No sooner.

(Poorly) Teaching Twitter

Mike called me into the bedroom the other night while he was watching The Voice. They stream tweets on the bottom of the screen while the show airs, from the judges, host, etc.

Mike: Where are those notes coming from?

Me: Those are tweets.

Mike: Like, from Twitter?

Me: Yes.

Mike: Okay. Well, what are all those pound signs? What do they mean?

Me: They're hashtags.

Mike: What?

Me: We've talked about hashtags before! You click on them and can see all the people talking about that topic or you can even mute a hashtag so you never have to see those tweets in your timeline and...

Mike: WAIT, so does Twitter decide when to assign the pound sign? Like when it's a popular topic?

Me: You aren't getting this at all.

Mike: Why does that tweet have so many pound signs? I mean, I can't even make sense of that!

Me: THEY'RE HASHTAGS.

Mike: What?

Me: This isn't a conversation I'm particularly enjoying.

Mike: What do the @ symbols mean?

Me: I'm gonna go.

Where I Force Mike to Record the Accent Vlog with Me

So, yeah, there's this vlog-type thing popping up all over the internet, and it's basically one big, crazy way of proving we all speak kinda weird. Except for me. I speak absolutely awesome.

You'll believe that for another .3 seconds before you hit play.

(While there's a special shout out to Natalie and Jonna (and Adam!), we love you all equally, you must know.)

So, do we have accents?

Real Marriages: When To Have a Baby

Over a year ago (oh my) I asked for questions for my Real Marriages series. In that comments section, Maggie asked "I'm always reeeeeeally interested in how couples handle the When To Have A Baby question. As in, one wants a baby maybe in a year or two, the other wants one yesterday."

I thought this was a great question then and now, so I'm finally getting around to writing about it.

So, When Did We Know We Wanted Kyle

Mike told me on our first date he wanted to be a dad. We went on to live together nearly two years before we got married, so I felt commited to him long before I took on his impossible-to-pronounce last name. Once we tied the knot, we just sort of ... went for it. I honestly don't remember having very many conversations about when to start trying for a baby, which seems kind of ridiculous. In hindsight, it also seems a little rushed, but it did end up taking us a year to get pregnant and by the time we had Kyle, we had been together five years. He wanted a baby, I wanted a baby, we wanted a baby, we started trying for that baby. It didn't feel like a big decision. Which is nuts! It's a huge decision! But, it felt certain and right, and we've never once regretted it except, well, colic. Enough said. 

Now.

For more kids?

There were conversations.

How We Decided to Only Have One

You may not know, if you're brand-spanking new here, that Mike and I have decided not to have any more babies. You can read a little more about our decision here but, basically, we felt good about having just one child long before Kyle. Then I had Kyle and for a little while, I thought we'd definitely have another. Babies have this intoxicating effect on people. THEY ARE CLEVER LIKE THAT. But as Kyle grew, he actually got way more awesome -- seriously, is anyone out there unclear about my opinion of age two? -- and you'd think that would just strengthen my early desire to do it all again. That's a pretty fair guess, even, but something weird happened. The more awesome Kyle became, the happier I became with the idea of it just being him forever and ever. The older he got, the less of a pull we felt to try again. We got what we wanted.

Now, before you start typing out an angry comment, please know I'm not saying that anyone with more than one child is trying to "get something" they didn't get the first or second or thirteenth time around. God no. No no no. I'm just saying that for us Kyle feels like enough.

(Also, newsflash: kids aren't cheap.)

You know, I probably could have been convinced or talked into more and there are even times I feel I want more, but I don't think "more" is what's right for our family even if it's right for my likes-to-buy-baby-clothes side or right for my idea of holidays in 20 years. (Do you know all that can change in 20 years? THANKSGIVING MAY NOT EVEN EXIST THEN.) 

Also, Mike is very, very, very content with just one and his contentment really has been a little contagious.

I also think that there's a lot of unfair pressure to conduct your life the way the majority does. Have more than one child but not too many children. Spend lots of time with those kids but keep your identity. Cook dinner for your husband every night but don't be a doormat. There are so many rules to being happy but this world is somehow full of miserable people. When did going with our guts go out of style?

With all that said, I feel very, very lucky that my desire to have another child wasn't so deep that it didn't become an issue in my marriage. Mike and I are on the same page and even when I thought we might not be, it wasn't too far off or for very long. I feel endlessly grateful that we both feel good about our choices because I know it's not always that easy.

Now, I'd love to hear your stories: how did you decide to have the number of children you have? Did you agree on that number with your partner? If not, how did you handle the conflict?

The very strange "fruit" anniversary

Right before Mike, I was left at a bar by a particularly charming man who in between going to the bathroom and refreshing his drink met someone he "had a better connection with."

This was awkward for a couple reasons since he was my date and my ride, but Natalie came and picked me up. (This is one of a million reasons everyone should have a Natalie.) I was sitting on the curb when she pulled up, past midnight, and she then let me stay at her place that night. She said to me, that night and many nights, "your guy is coming, but you have to stop dating these losers until then."

I didn't believe her. I believed I was destined for a lot of things but a good, healthy, loving relationship was not one of them. I even think I was okay with that.

My guy showed up a month later despite what the hell I was okay with.

He's showed up ever since.

He doesn't send me that many flowers. He doesn't take my face into his hands and profess his love or recite poetry. He doesn't smolder the way Damon on The Vampire Diaries does. He doesn't do a lot of things that might make a girl fall all over herself, that might even make that girl back then fall all over herself.

He showed up.

He shows up.

In a million damn ways.

No one on this planet will ever know how grateful I am that he proved me wrong by showing up seven years ago, married me four years ago, gave me a baby two years ago, and kissed me goodnight tonight.

No one on this planet will ever know how graetful I am that he is he at all.

Happy fourth anniversary, babe.

LVS

(Posting this a day early because we celebrate us tonight.)

We Went To Chicago A Million Years Ago

Did we go to Chicago? It almost feels like we didn't. Did I make it up? I have all this vacation weight hanging around my waist and hips, so I'm nearly certain we did go somewhere, but it's been so long and there is no post to prove it. I'm so confused.

(WAIT! THERE ARE FLICKR PHOTOS! THAT MEANS IT HAPPENED!)

Ok, ok, Chicago was fantastic. I know you were holding your breath for that statement and now you can exhale. (Oh, you weren't? Awkward!)

Chicago was also, sadly, cold. We had one glorious, sun-filled day and THANK THE GOOD LORD that was the day we picked to go to the Cubs game but the rest of the time there was a lot of rain, a lot of biting wind, a lot of looking out the hotel window and tossing ideas back and forth only to curl up in bed and order room service instead.

Which, come on now, was not such a bad consolation prize.

Just how chilly and cold, you're wondering. I mean, you're from Texas. Well, the last day we were there, we walked from our hotel to the Shedd Aquarium (roughly a couple miles) and it was 39 degrees outside.

I looked like this upon arrival:

COLD!

But then I think back on all we did and we did a helluva lot for being there only three-ish days and for having a hotel bed we could have always opted for.

We ate pizza!

Gino's East. I can't stop thinking about this pizza, I loved it so. But, Mike asked upon its arrival: "Uh, why is the sauce like that?" (He doesn't read enough food blogs.)

We went to Wrigley Field.

And it was just as ridiculously awesome as you'd expect. It's what all baseball experiences should be, but too few are.

I day drank at the Cubs game as if you had any doubt.

And they won, so, you know, now I have to toss back an Old Style every single time they play. FOR THE STREAK, NOT ME.

We went on an awesome architecture tour.

We drank at the Signature Lounge, atop the Hancock Building.

The view!

We also saw The Bean. In the rain!

We were also, and this one is important, staying across the street from:

We bought orange juice! And hummus! And croissants! And cheap champagne! And the nice cashier asked where we were from after we oohed and ahhed about being in a Trader Joes and she said, "Texas? Oh, I heard we're coming to you soon!" And then we Googled like MAD and couldn't find a thing and were all, THAT LIAR but look! She wasn't lying! (She just knew before Texas did and we could have broken the news and didn't and AH, I COULD HAVE BEEN FANCY GROCERY STORE FAMOUS!)

(I'm sorry, but I'm done saying bad things about Texas. In N Out and Trader Joes in the same year? Yeah, I'm good here.)

We did have such a good time, though, truly, and the Chicagoians (that doesn't look close to right; is it?) were just warm and welcoming and lovely. The city is clean and beautiful, the history incredible, and the food amazing (we had dinner at Tango Sur one night, and Mike would like to start a blog of his own just to write about the steak he had.)

Most of the good Chicago feelings are from experience but it's also possible we were told by the local news as we lounged in bed with the heat on.

  

Next vacation: THE SUN!

Real Marriages: Encouraging The Things He Loves

Mike races motorcycles.

For a long time, Mike played hockey.

Mike thinks Call of Duty is totally awesome.

Mike likes nothing more than spending a few hours in the garage. I have no idea what he does out there. There are tools involved, I think, and I'm pretty sure there's an open beer somewhere, but beyond that, who knows?

(Nor do I particularly care. I mean, that's where the rat lived. I'm fine with that being his domain.)

These are not activities I'll ever fill up my free time with and because of that, I can sometimes have a hard time understanding why he enjoys them so much.

I can sometimes get pissy and screechy when he'd rather be in the garage than inside the house with me or when he'd rather work overtime to pay for some race equipment than work overtime to buy me diamonds (or shoes or champagne or a variety of other things). He's really supportive of my free-time activities: book club, running, blogging, even though he does not like to read or run or blog.

So.....what's my problem?

I know that I need things -- outside of being a wife and mother -- to fulfill and challenge me, yet I seem to struggle with accepting the same truths about Mike. 

So, I've acknowledged this flaw of mine, and I want to work on it. I want Mike to feel super supported and loved and encouraged. Because he totally is. He's awesome and talented and, well, the garage is pretty cool if you're into that sort of thing.

Although, can I get an amen that no single person needs more than five wrenches?

Anyone else struggle with this?

Seven

The longer we've been together, the more foolish I feel about trying to write sappily about us because, come on, we're married, we liked each other enough to have ourselves the cutest little kid there ever was, and we have signed our names to many, many documents that will make it a bitch to ever part one day. Clearly we get along. What's there to say about my marriage that's new or original or not barf-inducing, you know?

Except, well, we have this marriage because we started dating seven years ago today.

(I'm not taller than him. I just found a rock to stand on!)

And even this day feels a little foolish to celebrate becaue it's not our wedding anniversary but it's the day that changed it all, all the same.

If you had told me all those years ago, right after that first night, that in seven years we'd be married and happy and would have a sleeping Kyle down the hall, I would have called you crazy, rolled my eyes, and then turned around to hide the smile. Because, man, that would have been good news to hear.

Real Marriages: Featured Post by Slynnro

From a great post by Slynnro:

I don't ask him to do these things because he truly does not have the time.  I don't ask him to do these things because I don't think he should have to spend what little time he has at home in the evenings pairing socks and scrubbing the toilet.

But the fact that I do all of those things?  Well, it isn't nothing, and he?  He married well too.

I'm not in Slynnro's same situation, not at all, but I was in a pretty destructive relationship before meeting Mike -- the most normal and well-adjusted man I've ever known -- and that relationship was with myself, so I always joke that I'm INSANE and he's, well, NOT and everyone sort of nods their head in amused agreement, but occassionally I want someone to grab him by the shoulders and just say, "YOU LUCKY BASTARD."

Mike is a catch and he's not even a little bit screwed up in the head and I am -- always will be, which I'm a-okay with -- but I'm still a catch, too.

I also do the dishes 99% of the time and every now and then I look at those clean plates and think, "I WANT TO COME BACK IN MY NEXT LIFE AS HIM."

(Or Molly. Well, Molly pre-Kyle. She had it good back then.)

Anyway, go read her entire post. It's honest and great.

Real Marriages (Guest Post): "How Does Your Marriage Look To You?"

When I was in Boston, Jonna and I were talking about how Mike rides a motorcycle and when I tell people this, I'm often (OFTEN!) met with "How could you let him do that?" or "He must not really care about his family to be so reckless" or (my personal favorite) "You'll be a single parent one day." And every now and then, when we're fighting, I bring this up and say "WHY DO YOU RIDE A MOTORCYCLE? DO YOU NOT CARE ABOUT US?" But, see, I truly and wholly don't care that he does. He loves it and it brings him happiness and he's a well-trained and safe rider and it just doesn't bother me. I'll never ask him to stop, and I'm fine if he never comes to that conclusion on his own.

Jonna said something that sort of changed my life when I told her all this: "Why do we let what other people get upset about make us upset?"

Here's a post from Jonna about this topic and I just LOVE HER SO. 

***

One of my favorite quotes from the most ridiculous movies on earth is from, um, Rocky Balboa, when Little Marie announces to Rocky that, "It doesn't matter how this looks to other people ... how does it look to you?"

I think that's one of the best things to think about as we backpack our way through life, navigating relationship after relationship with our kids, our families, our husbands. The only person's opinion on how you lead your life that really matters is your own, and while the influence of others can be easily avoided in some cases, I've found that for me, it's dangerously insidious in others. 

I have a good marriage. I'm not particularly talky about it, and I'm not smug about it, and I don't think that I really have any advice to give anyone else on how to have a good marriage, because, well, their marriage isn't my marriage, you know? All we can really do is look at, and talk about, our own experiences. 

So, you know, for background's sake: My husband is my best friend. He makes me laugh, he drives me nuts, but at the end of the day, he's the one I want. Always. 

Anyway. One of the things that HAS come up is, on occasion, I've gotten ruffled about something that I am not particularly bothered about, but OTHER people would be bothered about (and have informed me as such), and then, for reasons that make really no sense at all, I start wondering if I SHOULD be mad about this particular thing, and if people think I'm a patsy for not being mad about this particular thing. Like, am I in some wild abusive relationship because I'm not bothered by this thing that Kristin would be bothered by? AM I A PATSY? 

Are you following this at all? Here, let me give you a non-personal example: My friend, let's call her Susan, has a husband who is a terrible baby daddy. Oh, he's a great DADDY, he's just an awful, no-good baby daddy. For most of her children's first three years of life, she's on her own; he's just ... useless. He doesn't get up with them in the night, he's terrified of staying alone with them, he's never put their youngest to bed by himself, ever, so Susan is sort of chained to the house so long as Amanda's awake. 

Once they turn three, however, and become a bit more, um, kid-like, he snaps into gear and becomes virtually dad of the year, no kidding. It's crazy! Crazy! 

And frankly, would not fly with me. At all. I'd probably kill myself, in fact, shortly after I killed him. And to hear her talk about it, it obviously bothers her a little, but not enough to really make a thing of it -- after all, she knew this after their first child (who has special needs), and continued to have multiple children with him. Otherwise, he's wonderful and thoughtful and loves her and takes care of her and surprises her with the most amazingly thoughtful gestures and she just ... well, it works for them, even if it wouldn't work for me. The nice part about marriage is that I don't have to be married to someone else's husband. 

It's easy, as an outsider, to get all finger-wavy about the situation, right? I mean, she's ON HER OWN as a SOLO PARENT for the first THREE YEARS of her child's LIFE, oh my GOD ALL CAPS OH MY GOD. But ... it works for her, and she's accepted it, and accepted that as part of getting all the good stuff, that's part of what she has to endure, and she puts up with it, and not unhappily, I have to say. So what should she care what we think? 

My husband is an insomniac, and has the worst sleep habits known to man. Most weekday mornings, he sleeps later than Sam and I do, and gets ready for work in solitude, coming out only to hang out with Sam and chit chat before jetting off into the workaday ether. He has no morning responsibilities with the family, really, and when I need to take a shower, I do it at night. Too often, when discussing this with people, I am met with, "OH NO HE DOES NOT!" and "That would NOT work for me! You need to stop that!" And then, inevitably, I pick a fight with Adam because I feel, stupidly, like I'm being taken advantage of, until I realize ... 

I really don't care. I prefer showering at night. I like my mornings quiet, just Sam and me, toodling around the house. I'm happy. I'm happy with the way things are. My husband doesn't take advantage of me -- he does a thousand other things that are important to me, that make me happy. (You guys, the dishwasher. He empties the dishwasher EVERY. DAY., for no other reason than he knows I hate it.) If I really had a problem with it, we'd work together to change it -- he's not a Neanderthal douchebag, he's my husband and he loves and respects me. But I don't care about his morning habits at all. So am I really supposed to be upset that he's not proactively giving me something I never asked for and don't need in the first place? 

Why am I getting mad about something someone else says I'm supposed to be mad at? 

It doesn't matter how my marriage looks to other people. It matters how it looks to me. And I like how it looks. 

Real Marriages: 10 Cheap Date Night Ideas

I'm a big fan of date nights. Just ask the man I force to be my date for every single one of them.

But, I also know money woes and tight budgets like the back of my hand, so I'm here to tell you, a night out doesn't have to cost the equivalent of your electricity bill. Or even your water bill.

Here are some cheap(ish) ideas for a night out with the guy or girl you liked enough to give up casual sex.

1. Go to Barnes & Noble, find a table or comfy sofa, grab The Book of Questions or similar book and get to talking to each other. Mike and I have done this before and all it cost us was the price of gas to get there. We did splurge for a coffee at Starbucks, but we shared that.

2. Subscribe to local blogs/websites that keep an updated calendar of events for your area. I get lots of free activity ideas this way. Festivals, parades, free fun runs, holiday festivities, free concerts in the park, etc. Granted, these are the kinds of things we enjoy taking Kyle to, but every now and then it's fun to walk hand-in-hand without lugging a stroller along.

3. Check out sites like restaurant.com or groupon.com for restaurant coupons. Additionally, sign up for restaurant mailing lists and special offers. Sign up with a separate email if you don't want your inbox to get flooded daily and then check in weekly to see what coupons you've been offered. Plan your date night accordingly. 

4.  Check out local parks or hiking trails. Texas isn't known for its hilly terrain, no, but even we have dozens of lakes and parks that offer really nice hiking and biking trails. Pack your own snacks and that date night ain't just cheap, it's free.

5. Cook! You don't need a babysitter for this one. Put the kid(s) to bed, get in the kitchen, and cook together. Maybe you do this often already, so make it special by making a dish or cocktail you've never tried before and then eat outside by candlelight rather than in front of the tv.

6. Go to a fancy restaurant ... for dessert. Eat dinner at home and then go upscale for dessert. The fanciest restaurants I've been to still have reasonably-priced desserts (under $10, even). Split the dish, which is better for your wallet and your ass.

7. Make it a date morning. We have a theater in town that has $4 movie tickets for the first showing of the day. Check out the older theaters in your area for similar matinee pricing. The theater will be empty, so there's no annoying movie talkers to ruin the previews, and your tickets will be more than half-off the usual cost.

8. Go to a farmer's market. There's something about the vibe at a farmer's market that can't be beat and there are samples everywhere. You can get away without spending a dime while tasting a bunch of delicious things, but go ahead and bring $5 in cash to buy something.

9. Take a brewery tour. This is such an inexpensive idea, it would stun you. For instance, most breweries give free tours with a (free!) tasting portion at the end of the tour. Even if there is a tour fee, it's usually cheap. It's interesting, you learn a thing or two, and you get snacks and beer at the end. Hard to top.

(Aside story: When Mike and I were in St. Louis a few years ago, we'd never taken a brewery tour before, so when we did the Budweiser tour, we kept asking where we paid. "Do we pay at the end?" "No, it's free?" "What's free?" "All of this is free." "We don't get it." And we didn't! We were so confused.)

10. Garage sale tour. We've been meaning to do this one for years now. Plenty of local papers have garage sale listings or, if you don't find luck there, just drive around the suburbs and look for signs. Get an early start (and an early babysitter) and you don't have to spend any more money than you want. It's fun to see how cheap shopping can  be if you plan a little.

***

What are your cheap date night ideas?

 

Real Marriages: The "Rules" for Surviving a New Baby

Mike and I have a few rules that came out of Kyle's newborn stage, and I think they're genius and everyone should know them. Now, if we only followed them regularly.

They are:

1) If your work schedules will allow, each person takes a weekend morning. We still do this, as best we can. One person gets to sleep in Saturday, the other Sunday.

2) Shift work. If the baby isn't nursing or there's expressed milk, break up the night. For a while, Mike was on shift from 10-2 am and no matter what was going down, those were his hours. I took 2-6 am and the same rules applied.

3) Our biggest trial-and-error rule: no one-upping. You may be a parenting rockstar but you don't actually win anything for reminding your partner you're better at something than he is. (Even if you are.) (Which, come on, you are.)

4) Take a job. I am the only one who has ever cut Kyle's nails after that first time Mike attempted it and there was much bloodshed. He haaaaates doing it and I'm good at it. Well, better, I should say. So I do it. Mike can get Kyle to sleep in five seconds flat whereas Kyle knows how to work me. So, Mike usually puts him to bed when we're both home. We have our jobs. We do them. We praise the other for doing theirs. 

***

I asked my Twitter friends to share their own rules. Here are a few gems:

  

 

Hillary may be childless but she's also brilliant. The phrase "but I did it last time" can only take you down one road and that road is called Fightsville. It intersects with One-Upping Your Way Into a Sexless Corner.

 

Such great rules.

Also, this one:

Smart woman.

***

What are the rules you made during new parenting (or parenting a new baby)?

Real Marriages: Fighting Fair

Mike and I fight.

Not a lot. Not every day. But from time to time we come to blows over something: the dishes, money, parenting, the DVR, coughfamilycough. I'm kind of emotional and he's kind of stubborn. Fun combination.

(He also has horrible taste in television. You can tell him I said so.)

But, Mike fights fair. In fact, everything healthy I've learned from fighting with your partner, I've learned from him. 

We haven't perfected the art of a constructive, relationship-building, level-headed argument and that's because I'm very rarely level-headed, but I'm (usually) proud of the way we fight and how we resolve conflicts.

Here are a few things I've learned on fair fighting over the last six years. (Fine, some of these things I learned in my relationships before Mike. Because I did the opposite of all of them.)

1) No name calling, no bad lanugage. Unless you're saying, "Shit, you've got a good point." Or "Fuck, you're right."

2) Never fight when either person has been drinking. We've had a couple big disagreements after some alcohol was consumed and, hoo boy, that never ends well. No really, never. If you're upset about something when you've had something to drink, write it down. Nine times out of ten, you won't be upset the next morning and it's much easier to throw a piece of paper away than to apologize.* (Also, you should never be drinking so much that you can't write something down. That goes without saying, right?)

*I obviously meant RECYCLE that piece of paper.

3) Never fight in the middle of the night. After having a newborn, I now think that being exhausted is like being tipsy. It messes with your ability to form a rational thought. In fact, those middle-of-the-night newborn screamfests from the early days included so many words (from me) in all caps, you'd think I was Jack Bauer. I eventually made this rule for myself: don't say a word in the middle of the night that's not 100% necessary like "the house is on fire, meet you outside."

4) Don't make threats. I can't remember a single fight we've had where either of us threatened to leave. But I've had plenty of those fights with other people and that's some irrevocable damage you don't want to mess with right there. You'll forget why you started fighting in a week's time, but you'll never forget the threats. They linger. They're toxic. Don't make them.

5) It's okay to walk away. Mike is a champ at this.* He knows when the fight isn't going well, and when we should both take some space to calm down. This means we sometimes go to bed angry, and I think that's fine. I'd rather cool off and re-group the next day than fight until 4 a.m. In fact, whoever said "never go to bed angry" must not have liked sleeping much.

*I am not much of a champ at this, but I'm learning. (YES I AM, MIKE.)

6) Leave "always" and "never" out of your vocabulary. Those two words are loaded and hurtful and I use them far too often. They're also just totally incorrect. 

7) Give yourself 30 minutes before saying something. My dad used to say "think before you speak" and I never understood (as a kid) how that was even possible. How do you have the TIME to think before you speak!? But, as a married adult who likes getting along with her husband, this is a very important rule indeed. Whatever you're pissed about, you have a right to be, let me just say that. But wait a half hour to say something about it. Give yourself just a little thinking time. You may still want to bring it up, but you'll bring it up way more rationally than you would have before.

***

My mom said something recently that I loved: no two successful marriages look the same. What works for you (and works well) might not work for the next couple and vice versa. And, listen closely, your marriage shouldn't work for everyone else. It's your marriage.

So, truly, it doesn't matter how often you fight (or if you fight at all) but that if and when you do, you fight with a level of respect. (That goes for all fights, even the ones you have with the T-Mobile customer service department. You may want to call them (or your partner) a raging douchenozzle but you shouldn't. Save it for your blog instead.)

I always like hearing your thoughts, so tell me:

Any tips for fighting fair you'd like to share?

June recap: The month of a million firsts and a million degrees

(Hey, if you want, you can check out my recaps for January, February, March, April, and May. Not sure why you'd want to, but there are the links for easy clicking.)

***

Other than the temperature outside (balls hot), June's been pretty nice to us. Man, I hope this isn't an ebbs and flows kind of thing because I'd like July to be nice, too. And every month after that. AM NOT GREEDY, SHUSH.

Anyway, let's get to recapping, yo!

First, my ass. Why not start there? It's shrunk! A little! If you're following along with my weight-loss calendar at The Stir, you know I've officially lost 28 pounds since January 1st and have about 20 left to lose. I've given myself a goal end date of January 1, 2011. Six more months to go!

I also ran 25 miles this month, and that proves I can technically run a marathon. As long as the volunteers don't mind moving to the event site for a month.

I've said this before, I'm sure, but man I enjoy running. More than I ever thought I would or could, and it's officially become my go-to exercise of choice.

I still want to do more, though, and I wrote this post of 5 activities I'd (eventually) like to try/sign-up for. I'm not kidding about ballet, either.

***

This month we also did a few things for the first time. We went to the Dallas Farmers Market, which we were blown away by. We also took Kyle to Sea World, which was magical. (It also made me excited to take him to Disney World one day.) And Mike and I took a sushi cooking class, which was something I've always wanted to do. (Sushi pictures!)

When Mike and I first started dating, we used to excitedly announce when something was the first thing. The first time we walked to class together, first movie date, first road trip, our first fight, even. Eventually all those firsts faded because after 6 years together, it can feel like you've done all there is to do.

It's nice to remind ourselves that there's still a world of firsts for us to experience together.

***

Oh, and Mike got in a motorcycle accident. That part of the month sucked ass, but he's okay! He's in one piece! We're practicing gratitude instead of panicky, motorcycles-are-death-mobiles sentiments.

(I don't think that, by the way, no matter how shaken his accident might have made me.)

***

I'm also enjoying my Real Marriages series, especially since I've had some amazing guest posts (and more to come) and spotlighted some stunning posts elsewhere. In the coming weeks, we're going to tackle how couples fight, in-law fun, and who handles the finances and why.

If you want to see a topic covered, comment or email. I'd love to hear what you'd love to hear.

***

I also have loads to say about some other topics: updates on our budget, updates on meal planning and grocery shopping, some thoughts on friendship, too. If you care about those things, I'll be writing on them soon.

***

Then there's Kyle.

He's both the most stunning, inspiring, hilarious human being I've ever known and the reason I have sprouted gray hair recently.

He is either driving me mad or making me look up how much a pony would cost because HE SO DESERVES A PONY.

He's saying some words (flower, outside, duck, water, thank you), but he's not saying enough to alleviate how frustrated he gets when he wants me to understand something he's trying to express, and since I don't speak whacked-out toddler, I look at him with a confused expression a lot. I imagine your own mother not understanding what you need and want would drive you to shriek at the top of your lungs. Scratch that, I don't imagine, I know because THAT'S WHAT HE DOES. THAT IS A FACT.

The timeouts, they have begun.

But he hugs and kisses when you request one of either. He knows how to "be gentle" and he's working on that with Molly. He holds my hand when I request him to, as we walk to the mail box each evening. He waves "hello!" to everyone he sees, and he just learned the itsy-bitsy spider in class the other day, which is really just him smashing his fingers together.

He rarely sits still, but he can spend a half hour just looking at one book, over and over. He knows where the birds and horses and cows are in his favorite book. He is nearly obsessed with ladybugs. He thinks playing tug of war is hilarious, HE CANNOT STOP LAUGHING.

He is starting to prefer me to almost anyone, except both his grandmas. He nearly pushes me out the door when either of them are around. PEACE MOM, WE'RE GOOD, BYE NOW.

He loves motorcycles (hold me) and he does vroom noises when he sees them.

Being his mother kicks ass. Sometimes it kicks my own ass, but mostly it's just this awesome, fun ride I get to be on every single day.

***

Lord, this is long.

***

July is going to be crazy. We have family in town for July 4th, and we'll see how Kyle does at his first fireworks display. We have a few fun date nights planned. I have a work trip to San Diego. And I am determined to lose a few more pounds, learn how to poach an egg, and read a couple books.

What do you have planned for July? And how was your June. (I genuinely like to hear, so share.)

Real Marriages: Featured post from Mommy Melee

From "Carry the Weight," a post by Mommy Melee:

The scene plays out over and over. Every day. Sometimes several times a day. I detect a cranky tone in my husband’s voice. Guilt washes over me, makes my chest ache, presses down until I feel sad and cranky and defensive. Immediately.

What is he complaining about? Who knows. Traffic, our son dragging his feet in the morning, bad service at lunch. And somehow, because I am a crazy person because I’m the only other adult in our household, because I’m his friend, because I’m his wife, because I’ve felt this way as long as I can remember, I feel responsible. I feel that if he is not happy at any given time, I’ve done something to fuck that up.

I know how crazy that sounds. When I write it down, it just looks awful. I’m not a submissive person, I’m not particularly dutiful. I don’t have old-fashioned views of marriage and relationships.

I can’t say why this happens. I’m sure psychological theories abound. I can only say that I’m trying, and I have to keep trying harder to stop reacting this way.

I know precisely what she's talking about. If anyone around me is unhappy -- especially Mike -- it's because of me. I let this twisted sense of guilt motivate me often, and I'm not sure why. I do know that letting my moods fluctuate and change based on the moods of others is annoying. I don't like being pissed off just because you are.

It would be nice to allow my husband his own bad moods without getting involved in them. We have a small house but a half acre of land. If he's cranky about something, there are plenty of places I can be alone until he's feeling better. And lord knows me asking "WHAT DID I DO?" over and over doesn't usually make him feel better faster.

Guilt is such a horrible motivator, both in life and in marriage.

I've been trying to let good things motivate me more often, and Maria's post reminded me this goal of mine isn't just about gifts or favors or kindnesses but about simple conversations and interactions with my husband.

We are individuals who happen to be married. We don't have to be responsible for everything the other person feels in order to be happily married. In fact, I'd say happiness is the last thing that's going to come from that.

Thanks, Maria.

***

This is the second post I featured like this. You can read the first from Lemon Gloria here.

Real Marriages: Parenting a Special Needs Child (Guest Post)

I'm not sure when or why I started reading Katy's blog Bird on the Street, but she's an inspiring force, I'll tell you that much. She's smart, she's strong, and she's teaching me how to be a better parent. Her son, Charlie, has cerebral palsy, and I asked her to write a post about how she keeps a strong marriage while parenting a special needs child.

Although when you see that son of hers smile, you can't really imagine there's anything in life much sweeter.

***

My son, Charlie, was born in June of 2007 and due to some necessary medical interventions, he suffered a massive stroke the next day. We were told he would never survive and that if he did, he would be very handicapped. No matter how you slice it, that’s a lot of stress and stress is bad for marriages. In the three years since Charlie’s birth, we have come up with a couple of things that work for us. Things that help us deal with Tough Stuff. I think most of them would be good for any couple because let’s face it—raising kids is never easy.

Don’t leave things unsaid. This seems obvious, but when your child is disabled or has special needs, you might be embarrassed to tell someone what you’re really thinking—even your spouse. My husband has his faults, but I have always been able to tell him anything. I could tell him I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to take care of a brain-damaged baby, that I was scared to love someone who might die, and that sometimes I fantasized about running away from the responsibility of it all. I could tell him all that and he just listened. We all have thoughts we wish we didn’t or that we don’t know how to deal with. Let your spouse help. There’s only one other person in the world who knows exactly what you’re going through—use that to your advantage.

Take some time for yourselves. Hubby and I are all about a date night. We think it’s important. Even if all we do is watch a video in the den, I think it’s important to remind yourself of life before the kid.

Play to your strengths. I’m good at research and I’m good at creating therapeutic and educational goals for Charlie. I’m a little lame in the fun department, though. Rather than getting mad that Hubby forgets to show Charlie his flashcards, I let him be the “fun” one. Fun is part of childhood too and since I’m lousy at it, I let Hubby take the lead. Hubby also takes the lead when it comes to his medications. He’s an engineer so he’s methodical and great at routines. Me? I was once fined $400 dollars by the state of Texas for failure to return two library books. So we make sure Hubby picks up the scripts. Left up to me, there’d be a lot of Midnight dashes to the 24-hour pharmacy. We do what we’re good at rather that expecting us both to do everything the same.

Like I said, we don’t have this thing all figured out. We do know what works and we try to do that over and over.

What kinds of things do you do to help alleviate stress?

***

Stress is universal, definitely, so share below the ways you and your spouse alleviate the stress of raising children in general, but if you have insights or experiences to share of raising a special needs or handicapped child, we'd love to hear those, too.

(Thank you, Katy.)