Category The Ordinary

May 26 2012

Taking it Back to Kindergarten.

Well that’s it, I’ve done it!  I’ve repaired my husband, relieved his fear and helped him to become whole again.  For so long he had been suffering, it must have been horrible to be afraid of the dishwasher.  It can be such a wildly intimidating mechanism… so loud and wet…  It took a lot of patient trial and error so I am hoping to spread the cure for anyone else whose husband may be affected with similar problems.  Dishwashers, washing machines, vacuum cleaners, even Windex can have a similar reaction – men can be terrified of them all.

I first noticed the phobia of the dishwasher growing when I came to realize I was the only one using the dishwasher.  There were even times when I loaded the washer and my poor husband walked up quivering behind me to put the dish in the empty sink. I knew this was getting serious.

At first I was in a panic, I wanted to react strongly, draw attention to it and snap him out of it.  This men would refer to as “nagging”, in truth it’s the term men use to maintain masculinity in the face of fear.  Pointing it out, demonstrating how to safely operate it, and trying to reason about even allocation of household responsibilities all proved unsuccessful.  In turn, this even made him withdraw further.

After this failure I attempted to ignore the fear hoping he would work it out in his own manly way.  What I found was that there is no manly method for improving something if there is no pressure or motivation.  My silence indicated approval and therefore no need to change.  My husband would still be content keeping his safe distance from the dishwasher had I not realized a third method and the cure to this clean kitchen ailment.

I’ve coined this treatment The Kindergarten Teacher…  The name says it all, we resorted to elementary school interactions and it’s guaranteed to be effective.  There were several ways to maintain light pressure and gentle motivation to coax my fearful husband back to his big boy pants.  The first rule of thumb was to keep the kindergarten teacher in mind, just think sweet and nurturing.  It was important to lay on the compliments thick, boost his confidence back up beginning with anything I could find that he was doing right. “Thank you so much for putting the milk back in the fridge,” “Yay, you brushed your teeth twice today,” “I really appreciate you driving, I don’t know how I would get around without you.”  You get the idea, ANYTHING.  The next phase was to utilize the examples around him, I staged my toddler to help me to load and unload the dishwasher when he would be able to see.  He could see our baby had no fear so he could have no fear.

The final step was to make suggestive statements and allow him to interpret his behavior as his own idea.  In kindergarten tone, “Oh my, I am so tired I think I will leave the dishes for tomorrow.”  This I’ve said in a variety of ways with no effect, it takes frequent repetition and creativity.  With his new found confidence and the fear being alleviated by watching how it can safely be done, one day I went to bed with the sweet hum of the dishwasher and I didn’t start it!

Success at last.  My husband loaded the dishwasher twice in 2 weeks now, which is the best record in the last two years.  I am committed to maintaining the kindergarten teacher method in preparation for a possible relapse.  I also set a goal of getting him to try an unload sometime in the next month, please if you see him, this is all top secret information.

May 22 2012

Tornado, hurricane, earthquake? No, just my yard.

(sigh) This is my backyard.Despite what the picture depicts there has been no natural disasters here.  Just four years of bare minimum yard work taking place in this pathetic outdoor space.  No passerby would even suspect there were two nature loving fools living within these walls, unfortunately, we enjoy the nature in parks rather than cultivating a park in our own backyard.

The desire to have a usable backyard has been present since moving into the home almost four years ago.  In fact we even discussed how magnificent the yard could be as outdoor entertainment when deciding to make an offer.  Since then our aspirations never met our skills, nor did our motivation meet our pocketbook.

The yard itself is pretty sizable, with large shady trees and an old 1940’s style stone/cement fire pit.  The untamed limbs of the trees provide plenty of kindling should we ever be able to utilize the fire-pit.  There is a chain-link fence separating the yard from the street parallel to our house.  The positioning of our property on the street allows all of our neighbors walking and driving by to take notice of the ugliness that is our yard.  It’s difficult to tell what covers most of the ground whether it be grass, weeds or mostly ivy.  And our muppet-like furry dogs have taken the liberty of running a path along the fence line to greet other dogs and pedestrians.

At times it feels like we are maintaining more of a snake habitat than anything else since it’s near impossible to be out there for any length of time without encountering at least one slithery friend.  My neighbor Lucy, who has lived in her home since the ’50s, told me she believes the snake population in the area is so high due to a teen releasing his pets years ago.  I’m not sure whether the story is true, or if it could even be the reason for the radical number of snakes.  Sometimes I look closely at the snakes to try to recognize if it’s a pet store breed, that is right before I run in the opposite direction.

Two ideas come to mind when thinking about the recent urgency I have had to fix this outdoor space.  Of course my busy toddler is topping off that list.  I want her to be able to develop memories of playing outdoors, swinging,  running through the sprinker, riding a tricycle around a paved path, and laying out a blanket for an impromptu picnic when the weather calls for it.  I dream of being able to host her second birthday this fall at our own house and to be able to have our friends and family all together to celebrate with a backyard BBQ.  I’ve imagined cozying up to my hubby and the baby monitor with a backyard fire, escaping the nonsense of a days work with an evening camping experience.  I’d have flowers and vegetables grown instead of bought.  I’d have neighbors admiring the space instead of wondering what lazy individuals must live here.  I’d even try my hand at composting and if my husband would allow it I’d maintain a chicken coop for fresh eggs (that last dream I won’t ever get approved though).

My daughter and I surveying the amount of work that needs to be done.

The second idea that comes to mind regarding the necessity which has inspired me to fix this area is a lecture I had the priviledge to see several years back given by Peter Walsh.  He is the organization guru most known by the TLC show Clean Sweep.  He challenges people to clear the clutter and live happier lives.  I distinctly remember one of the simple exercises he presented with a fill in the blank statement.  “My house is _____.”

Before you continue reading consider what your statement might be…

Since hearing this exercise several years ago, I often think of describing my house.  Sometimes I can say my house feels happy, sometimes it’s my house is a mess, or my house is colorful.  Recently I reflected on the statement and came up with – My house is better on the inside then the outside.  This idea was an honest response to the feeling of doing more work on the interior of my house and the obvious lack of effort on the exterior (mainly the backyard).  I spend a lot of time cleaning, decorating for the holidays and I have painted nearly every wall in the house since we have moved in.

The significance of the statement, according to Peter Walsh, is to change “my house” to “my life” and understand how our home is a reflection of how we are living and who we are.  It’s been accurate for me in the past of feeling happy, colorful and even when my life was a mess.  This time My life is better on the inside then the outside, also seems true to me on many platforms.  To me, it applies to feeling confident and happy with who I am on the inside and it not projecting to my outward appearance.  I don’t put much effort into taking care of myself on the outside with exercise, haircuts or dressing myself.  More importantly the creative thoughts and ideas which I am consistently brainstorming inside my head are not being acted on outside of my mind.  I wonder what the “outside” in my life could begin to resemble if I put forth the effort of the ideas I have on the inside.

This is my dream yard space complete with patio, garden areas, grassy pad, fire-pit seating, play area and path. Now I’ll just need the powers of the internet for support and accountability.

This takes me back to the backyard.  I’m focusing on the outside of my house, as a metaphor for working on releasing the creativity in my mind.  I believe that when I have a yard space I can be proud of, I will also have measurable output for my ideas, and my hope is this will expand to more than just my yard.  As for the outward appearance – yard work is exercise and no one will care if my hair is done or dirt is on my clothes when they walk past and compliment my yard.   Please consider these the before pictures and stay tuned for updates on progress!

May 3 2012

The Master of Disaster

My husband affectionately coined the name Master of Disaster for my daughter.  She, as toddlers typically are, has an extremely healthy level of curiosity and a seemly endless amount of energy to explore.  We did the usual child-proofing measures of putting locks on drawers, the gate at the top of the stairs and plugs in sockets.  While she continued to grow in bravery and independence we quickly learned to clear clutter in her path and try to keep her confined when possible.  Since I have not discovered how to be a hovering mom AND accomplish household tasks this has led to the nickname Master of Disaster.

For example, this morning she sat in her booster chair eating her breakfast while I was in the kitchen.  I take advantage of the moments when she is strapped in and with food to occupy her so that I can clean the kitchen and complete tasks like emptying the dishwasher without an assistance climbing in.       She sat eating in a cheerful mood, talking throughout her meal in her indistinguishable baby garble.  My overly productive morning quickly turned to the realization that my back was turned to her too much when she indicated “All done,” and I saw how she had used most of her yogurt as lotion for her pants.  

Her favorite disaster creating media is water.  She could spend hours in the bathtub, sprinkler, or faucet just playing.  The unfortunate part is that we don’t have all the time int he world to be playing with those things and she sometimes tries to make do with the dog bowl.  I have found her with a measuring cup from the drawer scooping water from the bowl to the floor.  I have scolded her for using her play kitchen set spoons to stir the dog’s water bowl.  And I have noticed a pattern in her intentionally dipping her hands in the dog dish in order to get to play with the water in the faucet since the only rational step after putting hands in the water dish would be to wash hands.

By far the most comical, yet disgusting, Master of Disaster move I have seen yet with the dog’s water bowl happened as most of these incidences started.  I am busy trying to keep up with my household mess and trust she is innocently playing with her things until I realize she has been quiet and independent for too long.

“Parker” I call from the kitchen.  Within seconds she steps into the doorway from the dining room to the kitchen, facing me, hands to her side, silent with a pacifier plugged in and avoiding eye contact.  “Have you been in the water dish Parker?”  I ask.

She loosens from her frozen position and moves past me in the kitchen to the refrigerator magnets.  I can almost see the thought bubble in her head trying to distract me from questioning if she takes position with an approved activity.  I continue to look down at her and recognize her hand is wet, of course she has been entertained by the water bowl.  Crouching down on her level I show her that I noticed.  She finally looks up at me with her big brown I’m sorry don’t I look too sweet to punish eyes.  She resumes use of the pacifier in her mouth and I can tell from the wet escaping with every suck that it too has been submerged in the dog’s water dish.

May 1 2012

The noisiest shoe ever loved.

I am sadly putting to rest my daughter’s outgrown squeaky shoes.  Ironically, I say sadly since when the shoes were purchased I wondered how quickly I would be working to remove the squeaky device.  They were bought in haste back in the fall when I unintentionally brought her out without shoes, well maybe that’s not entirely true… I think it was more related to not having shoes that matched her outfit – yes I am that kind of mom sometimes.

Where we shopped I imagined there would be a wide selection of children’s shoes and I was mistaken to find only one brand available. A local Kansas City baby’s shoe company, Pickle Shoes, had a booth set up at this shopping convention.  At first notice I found shoes immediately that I loved for my tot, colorful leather with Velcro, some with flowers or birds.  My excitement was diminished when I came to understand ALL of company’s shoes contained a noise making air bubble in the heals of the shoes, similar to a dog toy.  Therefore with each step a toddler takes a squeak follows.  “How annoying,” I thought as I started to put a pair back on the shelf.  The salesman, noticing my disappointment, showed me the plug on the side and reported the noise is optional.  My mom ended up buying two pairs that day, these were the most often worn, most frequently commented on and most favorite shoes in her collection to date.  The best part is, the plugs were never removed and the squeaks I assumed would be annoyance were much appreciated.

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With her squeaky shoes on she draws an even bigger audience of adoration in public and gives even the most gloomy passerby a reason to smile.  At home the shoes came in handy as she became more adventurous wanting to leave my line of sight.  With the shoes to indicate her location I didn’t worry as much and when the noise stopped I was aware she must be into something and I needed to go check it out.

What would it be like if everyone’s shoes made more than a click of a high heel or screech of a tennis shoe.  What if everyone’s shoes made noise to reflect their personality or the mood they were in that day.  Buzzing to indicate someone obnoxious is coming, whistling tunes for feeling fun, a siren for someone who is cranky and a warning to move out of the way.  Just a funny thought, what would you want the sound from your shoe to be?

Jan 31 2012

My Technology Funk

Technologically speaking, I have found my place in thickening cement while others around me seem to be fluttering about like hummingbirds.  How is it that I have accrued a heaping junk yard of wires, cables and damaged electronics?  While my single friends voice complaints about being a magnet for eligible losers, I somehow have gotten the honor of attracting worthless technology.  Computers, cell phones, internet service, cable, DVD player – they all hate me.  And the irony of the moment they decide to quit never seems so funny at the time. 

I believe my technology funk started several years ago.  My husband, Regg, and I purchased a laptop to replace our old computers in preparation for graduate school.  I was so proud of the crisp clean white at the beginning, she even received the name White Lightening for how quick she was.  This computer was frequently shared with friends when they visited our home, each got a chuckle out of the password used to gain access to the computer.  The password was OBRO – meaning Operation Block Regg Out, a lesson my husband learned the hard way about keeping an individual password on his account for a shared computer where I acted as the administrator.  My husband and I both used the computer throughout each of our grad school programs, we stored music, played games, Facebooked, edited movies and photos.  This seemed to be very average usage for 2 years until the screen went blank.  We took this laptop to a computer geek shop and with our explanation and one glance at the computer the geek behind the counter promptly handed us instructions to a class action lawsuit.  “We’ve seen quite a few of these, there is nothing you can do to fix it,” he said.

It’s my understanding this well-known and well liked computer company created these well purchased laptops and quickly found out each one would well…  eventually fail.  I guess since kids will not eat it and get sick or stick their heads between them and choke computer companies are not held to the same recall standards?  Instead, those who unknowingly invested hard-earned income on a computer with a short expiration date are just out of luck.  Since the death of White Lightening we have tried to patch our computer needs cheaply with refurbished computers.  And while I’m sure some technologically savvy individuals could get them to adequate working condition – I only seem to be able to get computers to move slowly and to freeze.

My technology funk doesn’t stop with computers though.  I have a home that acts as a bomb shelter for cell phone reception, a “smart” cell phone that screens my calls by deciding when I will get to answer and exactly how quickly the call will be dropped, cable where the picture is more often than not jumping or freezing, an extra Playstation since the first was turned over accidentally by an excited terrier, and internet disconnected by squirrels to name a few. 

Technology can be so inspiring and yet so infuriating at the same time.  It seems that everything is connected to electronics and when flowing smoothly you can be quick, creative and have a world of information at your fingertips.  And then there are some days, and in my case a long period of time, where you are aware of the possibilities and nothing seems to be computing right.   

Dec 9 2011

Integrity for sale on Craigslist?

In our house “spring cleaning” doesn’t seem to cut it for clearing the clutter.  It’s like a wild fungus that recreates it’s self four times over every time items get hauled away to be donated.  More frequently than just in spring, I get the urge to purge our unwanted and unused items.  It has been easy to bring various clothes, small furniture and decorations to the thrift store benefiting veterans down the street.  Lately I figured some items with more value I would try to utilize the power of Craigslist to see if I could make a little cash.

It has been an interesting adventure to say the least, with some unique inquiries and pushy buyers.  Due to being up to date on the horrors of meeting people over the internet I have been careful to set meet-ups in well-lit public settings.  Most transactions have been simple and uneventful.

On Wednesday afternoon I made a call to the phone number given on an email in response to my ad about a printer I had posted for sale.  After some discussion the gentlemen agreed to make the purchase and wanted to arrange to meet that day since his printer had broken and he needed one to replace it right away.  He suggested that I could just drop it by his shop, I perked up at the thought that it would be a public setting and I could make it convenient for my buyer.  Although when he told me the street it was on, I sank recognizing this as the street named almost nightly for crimes on the 6 o’clock news.  Thankfully he agreed to meet me in front of a store a few blocks from my house (that part he didn’t know).

I arrived at the store and quickly located his blue rusting pick-up truck.  It was the kind of truck my uncle used to have, back when me and my cousins could hop in the back and ride down the gravel path to the neighbor’s house.  Back then no one would frown at us for how unsafe it was to not be buckled in the moving vehicle.  I tried to be friendly and show him where the directions were located.  He did not even seem to make eye contact as he snatched the printer, delivered the cash and went on his way.  In fairness I did arrive late to our meeting, and from his appearance he probably had a hard-working day at his shop.  On my quick drive home I felt satisfied with the two crisp twenty-dollar bills in my palm and wondered briefly if my asking price was too low.  After all, the all-in-one printers are sold for hundreds of dollars new at the store.  It didn’t matter, I was richer then I was when it was sitting in my office collecting dust.  I didn’t think about it again and probably would never have thought about it again until I received a text message on Thursday afternoon.

“Isnt the value of ur own integrity to ur self worth more than forty dollars ?” the text message said.  I would have been completely confused as to who the message came from and what it was pertaining to had $40 not been referenced.    I knew that it had to be the man who bought my printer and I was quick to assume there must have been a problem with the printer.  The feeling of anger poured over me to partner with being offended.  How quick this man was to assume that I had tricked him into buying a piece of junk?  The urge of wanting to return his message with another hateful statement was strong so I put my phone away to think about it for a while.  When I relaxed enough to realize his statement had nothing to do with me, I wondered if he had experiences buying bum equipment in a similar fashion before.  I thought maybe he didn’t know how to install it properly – not that I could be any help.  I considered not responding and just slipping away with my money and letting him believe he was right about the kind of person he believed me to be.

It took me about 30 minutes to come up with a response to his question.  I text him my reply, “Yes.”  

Following this message, a conversation ensued beginning with the man apologizing for making a negative assumption about my character.  I explained that the printer had worked the last I used it and we agreed to meet again to make a Craigslist return.

It seems as though my integrity was restored, in that individual at least, and for the favor a bit of karma came my way.  Let me explain…

While working on the sale of the printer I also had another sale in the works.  Some small VHS blank tapes for the old school type video cameras were also cluttering my office.  I knew they weren’t incredibly valuable and I figured someone could make better use of them than I was.  Sure enough I was in touch with a buyer who wanted to make the purchase for his dad since he was taking a trip to El Salvador this summer and wanted to capture it on tape.  On Friday afternoon I met him in a parking lot where he expressed great appreciation for being able to get the tapes for his dad and handed me a fifty dollar bill.  I told him that I didn’t think I had any change as I had listed the tapes on Craigslist for a fat $10 bill.  The young man seemed confused and stated that he couldn’t remember if we had discussed price and that he planned to offer me $50.  Interestingly, this price would have made the difference in the loss of $40 from the return of the printer.  Yet again another moral dilemma where I could have kept silent and walked away richer.

I handed him back the fifty and told him that it would be too much for these tapes.  We exchanged a smaller amount and he happily took his purchase home to his dad.  While I maintained my integrity through lessons from Craigslist.

I don’t remember where I first heard the definition that always stuck with me… Integrity is doing what is right even when no one is looking.  I love the definition although sometimes it is hard to know what the right thing to do is.

Dec 1 2011

Keeping in Touch.

Earlier this week I went out of my way to an appointment to quench my craving for chai tea.  I have never been a fan of coffee, it seems to be one of those drinks that I try a sip every few years to reassure myself that I still don’t care for it.  However, after my first taste of chai tea I was hooked.  Even while I was pregnant and gave up soda with caffeine, I knew my tiny bun in the oven would appreciate and excuse this warm, tasty, slightly caffeinated beverage.   The ode to my little addiction was not really the intent of this post – it was the event at the coffee shop that got me thinking…

I parked at the drive through at Latte Land when the gentleman through the window stopped to ask me my name.  He recognized me from going to middle school together – apparently I have not changed too much from the wire mouthed, frizzy haired kid in 16 years.  While I did remember his name I had no memory of what he looked like back then and no recollection of him looking at all familiar now.  It was almost embarrassing that he remembered me so easily and not be able to return the gesture.  He kindly put me at ease by saying that he is good at remembering faces.

After leaving the drive though it got me thinking about how I wish I had a better memory for faces and if there is a way for me to build this as a strength.  Something less invasive and more practical than taking pictures of everyone I meet and creating flashcards to practice in my free time.  So far, I have come up empty on ways to improve facial recognition.  Maybe it is just a strength I will have to appreciate in other people, like my old classmate at the coffee shop.

However, I also realized I have my own strength in relation to people which may not come as naturally to others.  My strength is keeping in touch.  I hold on tight to people I have grown close with over time where otherwise friendship might have faded and those people would have just been a memory to me.  In these days with social networking, this is an easier task.  With one click a distant cousin, old college roommate, co-worker from your first job or neighbor from a childhood home can become a Facebook friend.  I have been keeping in touch for much longer than Facebook though.

Whether family, friend, co-worker or neighbor – people who I have grown fond of, I keep in touch with.  I make frequent long distance phone calls, send cards or letters and organize get togethers.  I feel like these individuals have made a positive impression on my life and it’s sort of my way of letting them know that no matter how long it’s been between when we have seen each other, I still appreciate them and what they have meant to me.

This week I have been preparing my holiday cards to mail out, and due to my eagerness to keep in touch with so many people my stack of cards is getting pretty high.  My husband tried to quaff at the extraodinary cost of stamps and secretly I know he supports this as he adds in his own friends he wants to make sure to connect with.  As my handwriting is generally only readable by me, I carefully addressed each envelope  and I wondered whether all of these acquaintances would even care to hear from me.  It didn’t take me long to realize it didn’t matter what they think of me.  The gesture of trying to keep in touch is letting people know that I care about them, I care about the relationship that we have or had even if it was several years ago.

So, I apologize if I have met you and don’t remember your face.  I also apologize if you have penetrated to my inner circle of friends and you can’t get rid of me – most are stuck there for life.

Nov 23 2011

The Power of BUT.

A few years back (July 2008 actually) I started working at a facility where I began learning and utilizing DBT with a team.  DBT stands for Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and is very well-known in the world of Borderline Behavioral Disorder and also has been used in treatment for addictions.  I am positive that I will write a lot in regards to DBT because it has strongly influenced me in terms of how I see myself and how I view others.

Long story short…

DBT was the first time I can remember anyone making a big deal out of the word BUT.  BUT is outlawed in the world of DBT and since then it has become a word I have tried to extinguish from my vocabulary as well.  In order to really understand this point you have to be willing to acknowledge there is truth in every statement – even if it only a miniscule piece of a statement that holds validity.  And unlike most of the thinking we naturally assume, there is no black or white, right or wrong, all good or all bad allowed when comprehending the importance of BUT.

So, with that in mind.  The word BUT sort of acts to negate a statement and discount it as truth.  We all have spoken the words or heard them from others in a heated debate  – “yes, but…”

“Yes, BUT…” Really could be the same as saying “what you said is wrong BUT this is right.”  I learned to use the word AND in place of BUT.  For example “You see it one way AND I see it another,”  speaking this way challenges viewing situations or people as all right or all wrong.

The power of the word reaches way beyond it just being said or not said though.  When we make a conscious effort to change what we say it eventually will affect the way we think.  When we can challenge the way we speak and think our attitudes follow as well.  Can you imagine how different our attitudes could be if we weren’t so quick to assume people for being bad, or being wrong?  So you see, there is a lot of power in the word BUT.

Nov 19 2011

Ahh conflict!

Okay, I will admit it I am addicted to Oprah’s new channel.  It seems like every show on OWN is drawing me in and I am glued.

Oprah’s Lifeclass is absolutely amazing to me, I am so appreciative that she is spreading a message to wake up and take control of your mind.  It seems that every episode that I have caught I am immediately able to connect to a personal experience.  One message in particular I struggled with for days.  She spoke about separating yourself from negative people in your life.  This would be people who continually take from you, cause conflict or stir negative emotions.  She suggested to make an effort to disconnect from those people and even stated that you could notify them and let them know why it is necessary for you to do it.

This would be necessary and very appropriate in many scenarios, however I struggled with this in my own situation.  What if there are other variables within the conflict or surrounding the person that you cannot disconnect yourself from?  For example, if you had a horrible boss that you struggled to deal with and it was with an incredibly rewarding job that you love.  In this case it would not be okay to quit the job in order to disconnect with the negativity surrounding the boss, right?

After watching the Lifeclass I sat with a cloud of confusion about how to disconnect from the person until a second OWN show came to the rescue…

Last Sunday I caught pieces of Super Soul Sunday.  Oprah was interviewing the author of Stroke of Insight, Jill Bolte Taylor.  She was a Harvard brain scientist and had a massive stroke.  The book was enlightening and the interview was the key for solving my disconnection dilemma.  Because of where Dr. Taylor’s stroke occurred, part of the recovery process included an absence of thought.  Her left brain chatter, as she put it, was completely quiet.  And the gift of this experience was realizing that she had the power to control her mind, quiet the thoughts and influence her emotions.

What I compiled from viewing these two shows and relating it to my own experience is that I cannot control other people or the conflict that occurs.  I can make sure that it does not consume me when it is not in my presence.  It’s true for me as I am sure it is for a lot of people, we end up dwelling on situations.  We revisit thoughts of what happened, how it happened, what it means and on and on.  I learned that I need to separate myself from negative people and when I cannot remove myself completely I can choose to remove the thought from my mind.  I have been more at peace with the negative situation this week than I have been in a long time, because when I become aware that I am revisiting it in my mind I notice it and the thinking stops.

Like a candle lit in my mind, if I don’t become aware of the thought it turns into a fire of negativity.  Now I am trying to notice a flame and blow it out early.

Nov 15 2011

Appreciation for my husband.

A Fall Day

A quiet moment in the leaves, a daddy in love with his daughter!

It seems there are so many times that my husband will go on and on verbalizing, what sounds like thinking out loud regarding plans for what to do month to month, week to week.  Often times I will catch bits of what he is saying and end up tuning a lot out.  Or I have my own train of thoughts going on in my head that overshadow and drown out what he is communicating.

At one point this past weekend while my husband had initiated one of these ramblings of immediate plans, I became aware of my own thoughts and made a determination to focus on his words.  The conversation was like many we have had before, it was not urgent or pressing.  My engagement in the conversation was unique as I tried to quench thinking, problem solving or judging that comes natural.  As to not simplify this process, I want to be clear that I had to continue refocusing and stopping my own intrusion of thoughts.  However, what I discovered was rewarding.

I know my husband wants to be a good person, wants to be a good dad, a good husband, yadda yadda yadda…  However, following this moment of really trying to listen to my husband, my awareness of how strongly this motivates him was raised.  My appreciation of him as a person, the father of my daughter and as the man I am choosing to spend the rest of my life with was put into a clearer perspective.  Listening this way helped me to set aside knowing that I love him and really reinforced one of the reasons why I love him.  It also allowed me an opportunity to validate his position as a leader striving to provide a happy life for his family.

If there is one thing that I know about marriage whether it’s from 3 years of personal experience or from every other married person’s advice…  Marriage is work.  It takes a daily effort to show and receive affection, to share and to listen.  I thought I was working daily on my marriage, it’s now that I am aware I was not really doing the listening part well.  Dropping my own thoughts and taking in what someone else is saying is hard work, and it is worth the effort.  Really hearing my husband’s words no matter how big or small the issue will help maintain on our relationship.