14 Years Together

"We were together.  I forget the rest".  Walt Whitman

This last weekend Derrick and I went out of town for our anniversary, as we try to do every year.  The last four years we have went to Whitefish for our anniversary, so this year we decided to shake it up and go to Spokane instead.

The one commonality of our anniversaries throughout the years have been the monochromatic way the December sky decides to present itself.  As we headed out of town on Friday, it looked as though we were heading into the usual grey but happy weekend, but somewhere around the middle of Saturday, the clouds opened up and gave us blue skies.  They stuck around for the rest of our time out of town, and even now it is blue skies and sunny.

This was one of my personal favorite anniversary trips.  Our motel was really close to downtown Spokane, so we pretty much walked to most of the places we wanted to go throughout the weekend.  There was the usual shopping that goes along with a trip to Spokane, but we spent a lot of time walking, hanging out in our room (which was very nice), and going to some of the fun restaurants and pubs in downtown Spokane.

I love anniversary weekends.  We always make the effort to have that weekend to ourselves, and without fail we have the best discussions together of our year.

We talked about getting older, and our fears we have attached to it.  My fear (as I'm sure it is for a lot of people), is that of being devalued as a person by society.  Derrick's is mostly just the fear of being sickly or not being able to do what he once did.  Other than that, he's looking forward to being a cranky old man with no pressure from society to follow rules.  He's preparing for a reign of obnoxiousness :)  Getting old wouldn't be so bad as long as I could do it with him, because I know he will always see me as I really am.  Hopefully, though, we will never have to get old.

Of course (!) we talked about the kids.  Like most parents, we talk about them a lot.  You know how when you love someone, all conversations have a way of leading to that person?  That principle must apply to parents with their children.  Our hopes and dreams for them equal and surpass the hopes and dreams for ourselves.  The sum of our kid conversations are mostly how to keep them safe and sound but also give the tools and freedom to create happiness and dreams for themselves.  As they get older, we are seeing what a tricky road this may be.  We will just have to try our best, like our parents did for us.

We talked about our longstanding dream too, and decided it's time to make our trip to Europe a reality.  We saved for a trip we are going to take later this winter, and realized that if we are careful, saving for travel doesn't have to be crazy hard (as long as nothing too extreme happens in the meantime).  It might not be an immediate trip, but just knowing we are in the process of making it happen is a happy thought.

Fourteen years is a long time to be married.  We've had plenty of growing pains, and lots of wonderful times too.  We've been through a scary pregnancy and birth where Derrick almost lost both Derrin and me.  We've parented babies, toddlers, little kids, big kids and now teenagers together, with all of the struggles and joys that entails.  We've been through cancer in our family and the loss of a parent together.  We've battled depression and health issues together.  We've had the opportunity to travel to far away places we'd never been before together.  We've build a house and home together.  We've decorated the inside of our marriage with love.

My Man

Right now I am sitting in beautiful silence, in front of a fireplace and surrounded by tall windows looking out over heaps of snow and hundreds of frosty trees.  Derrick is still in bed. I was planning on sleeping in for a long time today too, but it was just too tempting to creep downstairs and soak in the stillness. 

I love it up at  Big Mountain (I guess it's called Whitefish Ski Resort now).  We aren't even going to ski until tomorrow.  Having this place all to ourselves it too good leave it, for whatever reason.

Derrick just came down a little bit ago.  It's December 11th!  Eleven years ago today we were married, for better or worse.  I still can't believe that I was blessed with this person in my life.  He is everything that a man should be- strong, caring, sticks to his guns, does the best he can in every situation.  As a partner he has been so supportive and forgiving, willing to listen and work on himself and our relationship, to fight for our relationship during the hard times. He cares for people, and is willing to fight for anyone who he loves.

He has raised the bar for me, both in what I expect in myself and what I expect from men in general.  Having known a man like him, I find very little patience for other men I've known, who sit around and let the women do all of the emotional heavy work, or who refuse to carry their own weight in life.

I've witnessed Derrick's life for a long time- I've known him fourteen years now.  I've seen him as a young man, married and with a baby, trying to figure out how in the world to make ends meet.  I've seen him work for a rotten employer who treated him bad enought that he was willing to make a leap of faith (with his father) and start his own business.  For the last ten years I've watched him run that business, putting himself out there in a way that would scare me to death.  He does it all for us, for his family and the people he loves.

This has been an especially difficult year.  I've had to acknowledge some difficult facts about myself.  Derrick was there, holding the mirror for me, but also pointing out the good stuff in there in case I couldn't see it anymore.  He was there during the darkest hour of my life, he held me and let me cry more times than I can say.  He was my rock, my safe place, the place I could run to when I couldn't take how heavy the gravity of life had become.  He lets me keep living this moment to moment emotional life I have right now, riding the waves of sadness, but not letting me drown in it- and helping me recognise the happiness and love that we have in our life together.

He has been there for me in a million ways.  I am a very blessed woman, and he is right at the top of my blessings.

Best Fight Ever

Derrick and I had the weirdest fight yesterday. We had both just gotten home from work, and we were both tired and cranky. I thought HE should make dinner since I had been the one to stop at the store on my way home from work, and I had worked a longer and later shift than usual. He felt the I should be the one to make dinner, since he had taken care of the kids all day, as well as done his job at the office, and he felt like his day had been far harder than mine.

I made dinner, but I didn't LIKE making it. It wasn't even a big deal, it was an easy meal. I think we just were irritated at the principle of the thing. We didn't talk again for the rest of the night.

The funny thing is that he started to wash laundry right after dinner. He also cleaned the kitchen. Now you might think, "Hey, what a nice gesture!!!", but I could tell he was trying to prove a point, and that point is that he does EVERYTHING and gets no respect. SO, I went to the master bathroom, took a long bath, and read a book. I was NOT going to cave in and feel guilty!!!! NO! How many times have I worked AND watched kids AND got groceries AND made dinner AND cleaned up the kitchen AND done laundry. THOUSANDS. Not gonna feel guilty. And yet... I got out of the bath and proceeded to clean the bathroom. Then I cleaned the bedroom.

As soon as he came to bed we snuggled up and the fight was over without a word. This morning we woke up to a clean house and a lot of clean laundry, and no resolution of who actually DOES do the most around here. Best Fight Ever.

Mula

Derrick finally got home at around 11:00 last night and then was out the doors this morning right after the kids left for school. He looked tired. He said he has a full month of work ahead of him (he has a small electrical contracting business)and although this morning that caused a sympathy pain for him, mostly I was doing cartwheels inside. More work means more money. Money? Bah, I HATE the stuff. But I can't afford to be a money hating hippie, fighting the man, when we have two kids, bills, and a mortgage to be paid every month. If I had my choice, we would sell all of our stuff, buy a camper and go live by the river. Several rivers actually- we would just move from river to river like modern day gypsies. I could make jewelery and paintings to sell on the side of the road. Sounds like the life to me!!!

After work today includes: a fun filled trip to the bank, a joyous voyage to the power company to keep us in the grid, a galloping good time down the aisles of the grocery store, and last but not least, a special moment at the post office where I get to mail all of our money off to various bills. It is SO GOOD to be a grown up!

~The Non-Routine Day~

This Wednesday Derrick took the day off of work, partially to finish getting well from a cold he's been fighting for a week, and partially to hang out with me since it feels like we haven't really just hung out for a long time. Our big plan was to have no plan at all, and for once that worked out quite well.

First we went to Sushi-Hana, one of Derrick's favorite restaurants, especially on their Thursday Dollar Day. I have only been there once, about three years ago. It was a pleasant suprise this time. I ate everything they brought except for the eel and the raw (but smoked) salmon.

After Sushi and a breif interlude at Rockin' Rudy's and Liquid Planet, we went to the treatment building to meet my parents and visit while Mom got her chemo. The doctor then decided to cancel it for a couple of weeks because she was on the verge of feeling sick again, and he didn't want a repeat of the last hospital stay from chemo overload. But her numbers keep going down,and today (Friday) she is looking alot better.

Since her treatment was cancelled, Mom and Dad headed back to Plains, and Derrick and I had more time on our hands. There were absolutely NO good movies showing, so we decided to go to the Missoula Art Museum, since we had never gone before. It was not quite what I expected. There was one exhibit that I sorta liked that was created by women from many different countries. The only rule they had to follow was that they had to use a box as their theme in one way or the other. Some of the artists were okay, because I at least had to stop and think "What the heck". One box I liked especially had a glamorous lady on the outside, and a whithered shell of a woman on the inside, portraying how us ladies like to look one way to the world while the drudging monotany of our everyday routines wear at who we really are. It is a depressing outlook for sure, but one I at least can look at and say...."Um, okay." Other boxes just irritated me. I hate it when artists try to shove their viewpoints down your throat with their "There is no box. I refuse to be part of representing the box that oppresses all womankid", WHILE they are still part of the exhibit. But still, I remembered their message, so I guess whoever the nut was that did that particular one is good at pushing a button, which from what I gathered while there, was what they wanted to do. By the way, NEVER touch the art. I briefly touched ONE of the exhibits, and I NEARLY gave the museum attendant an annurism! I hadn't had such a tongue lashing since I was in school. It was interestingly sort of fun... I'm so used to being the one who says "DON'T TOUCH, you see with your eyes, NOT your hands!". Anyways, I am thinking I may have to go back to the art museum and try to resist touching the exhibits again(and maybe bring the kids next time. )

A modest dinner at Jaker's ended our day our on the town. I, after all, had to help Derrin finish a project for school, and we needed to relieve Gramma from her day of watching kids. But it was a fun day and one worth blogging about.

The World's Smallest Violin Needed Please...

Yesterday I woke up to Derrick's alarm clock, going off every five minutes from six o'clock until seven when he actually decided to get up. I laid there in the dark awake, and I could feel myself becoming increasing unhappy. Yes, I know there are reasons for my sadness at this particular juncture in the month, but that doesn't make it any easier to take, month after month after month.

I laid there thinking, "I really wish we could go to the Clumsy Lovers in Spokane this Friday with everyone, then go to the big wedding in Yakima on Saturday, and then have the big finale of skiing on Sunday with all my pals." The only problem with this is that all of the people going to do all of the fun stuff are either single, just dating, or married without kids. They have asked us a hundred times to go hang with them this weekend, and even though I would absolutely LOVE to, it is not going to happen.

Even though I love being a mom and having a family, these are the times I wish I was 21 again, free to come and go at will. I still have as strong of a desire to go to fun things as I did then, only now any sort of fun has to be managed. A babysitter for a three-day weekend only comes once a year for us (during our anniversary), and I know that is more than most parents get.

That is what kills me. I sit around and get sad and weepy (although I will blame hormones too), over something as stupid as not getting to do what I want to do for the weekend. Why can't I choose something more vital and noble to cry about, like the fact my mom is sick, or how horrible the world condition is? There are people who have so much more to be sad about.

When Derrick woke up I told him he should go with everyone to Washington, and I would stay home so at least one of us could go. I didn't say it with a pure heart. My heart was aching with self-pity when I spoke the words. He didn't get too excited. I don't even know if he is going to take me up on my offer. He just said, "K, I'll think about it", and got ready to go to work.

I still couldn't sleep so I logged on to myspace and saw Shannon was there. We chatted just long enough for me to grumble about the general unfairness of life. Then I got into the shower and allowed myself to really wallow in some self-pity. I shook my fist at the shower walls and gently plummeled them in anger. I wept at the unkindness of life. When my eyes were good and puffy (but the rest of me was clean), I got out, put on my robe, went to the kitchen and made coffee. Today was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not, whether I was hormonal or not, and I needed to get going.

When the puffiness receded, I put on some makeup, got dressed, dressed the kids, and drove them to the daycare facility I use sometimes. Then I drove to the hospital and parked in the special area reserved for cancer patients, and went up the elevator to where my mom was, in the common chemo room. They were just putting the two chemo drips in her port when I arrived.

Mom was in a good mood, as always. She doesn't ever seem to feel too sorry for herself. She sat there and told me about all of the family and friends who are helping her. She pointed out a couple different people in the room that she knew. There was a woman named Jo that my mom wanted me to go say "hi" too. I didn't want to. I knew Jo had worked at my high school when I was a kid, but I didn't remember ever actually talking to her. I was letting myself off the polite hook because I was still feeling a little weepy, and I just didn't want to extend myself.

I looked around the room at different times while Mom and I chatted, and I noticed an older gentleman sitting behind me receiving chemo too. He didn't look like he felt too good. I glanced at him a couple of times, just kind of seeing how he was doing.

Eventually Jo came over to say goodbye. Mom gave her a hug (even though I know she doesn't hardly know her either), and wished her well. I watched Jo go over to the older guy and help him up. As I watched them walk out the door, I finally understood who he was. He had been my algebra teacher in 8th grade. He was a nice man. He was sitting there, fighting his cancer with chemo, the same as my mom is, and I didn't even go to say hi to him. My mom, sitting there, getting her first chemo treatment, had kindness and politeness to spare but I had let myself off of the hook because I had pms. My heart still hurts when I think about it now. I hope they are there next Wednesday so I can at least go over and acknowledge him.

Jug of Love

Next week marks our 7th wedding anniversary. This time of year always makes me think of our 1st anniversary. It was the hard one. Really, the whole first year was the hardest of our married life.

My mental state was not the best from the start. I was on birth control pills which made me, let's say, emotionally unpredictable. It also made me gain a lot of weight, which I had never experienced before, and I was NOT enjoying it. All of a sudden I no longer felt like myself, either in body, mind or even in name.

Three months later we were pregnant. Just like that. Turns out it is VERY important to take the pill at the same time every day (and actually take them everyday. They aren't kidding about that). Add to that bad job situations for the both of us, and we found ourselves in a miserable inferno neither of us had expected in our wildest dreams when we said "I do". He felt like he had married a stranger, not the person he'd known for the last three years. I was so angry, so upset most of the time. I felt abandoned because he was staying away from me more and more. We made it through summer and into fall, just barely holding on. Then September hit and bad went to worse.

I got really sick with preeclampsia and the only way to save my life was to take our baby out three months early. We found ourselves in a NICU, both of us watching our son struggle for every breath, not knowing if we would lose him or not. We lived in a limbo for the next couple months, living part time at home, part time with Derrin at the hospital. That is where our lives found us that first anniversary.

We ate dinner at Applebee's December 11th , barely able to afford even that. But it was the first time we really talked about how things were now, how we would rather them be, and how we could change them. I knew we would be okay after that talk.

That night I brought out an old wine jar I'd been saving , and we decided that we would always put our loose change and any dollars we could spare in it, so that we would always be able to afford to make our anniversary special. Seven years later, the wine bottle may not be as essential for making sure we can go somewhere and do something, but it does serve as a reminder throughout the year that we do have a special relationship that deserves to be celebrated.

Growing Pains

When Derrick and I first got married, our big plan was to stay simple, save our pennies and eventually blow this place, go to Europe and just hike or ride bikes to whatever exotic country our hearts would lead us to. Three months later a certain test came back positive and our plans had to change. That is life. The only thing constant is change, and we've learned to roll with our fair share of punches.

Before I got married my instinct was to shy away from unpleasantness, to take the easy way out card. Being married and having kids seems to make that card not so available. Hard times have forced us to grow and I've found out something : Growing as a person, a lot of the time, hurts (thus the term "growing pains"). It hurts because sometimes it's caused by slamming doors you never thought would close, forcing you to find a new route. It hurts because it springs from bad things that happen to you for no reason at all, and it isn't fair, but you still have to summon the strength to get through it. It hurts because sometimes it comes out of bad choices we've made causing us draw up the strength to survive the consequences. It is hard, because sometimes it's caused by sticking to a situation, a place, a relationship even when things are rocky, uncomfortable or even just boring, and wading through, enduring and choosing to make it better right where you are. Sometimes it hurts because you've had to learn there are some situations you cannot fix and you have to let go.

Life doesn't seem to let us off the hook very easily. Even though I hate the middle part of growing, the painful part, I love the end result because I know more about me, and if I did well on the way through, I learn to respect and like myself more. Or if it is something Derrick and I are working through together, and we do well, we learn to respect and trust eachother and the relationship more. Even if it comes from a bad move on my part, as long as I can handle it with honesty and grace in the reprocusion stage, I can look back and see ultimately I made the decision to make good on a bad choice, and I know that takes strength. These are the moments in time we define or refine who we are and what we are going to stand for.

It is a cliche, but no matter where you go, there you are. As long as I'm okay inside, I can wait for Europe

~To Forgive, Divine~

It is currently 1:25 in the morning and I cannot sleep. *grrr*. Derrick and I had a rather intense discussion that started out with me expressing some negative emotions. I expected a hug and instead got some feedback I did NOT expect or really want. Him and his darned honesty. So now he is sleeping like a baby and I am on the couch, half-way between being ready to be a grown-up and get over it and go to bed but INSTEAD choosing the more satisfying option of staying on the couch because I am sure it is punishing him somehow... except for the fact that I am the only one awake. Hmmm, why is this such a difficult choice? It really stinks that I am awake, because I am supposed to wake up early tomorrow, pack myself and the kids, and drive to T. Falls to see my mom and sister for a couple of days. Now I will be droopy. A plan is forming... drink as much coffee in the morning as possible! Yes, I know that is a weak plan, but it is 1:30 in the morning and it's as good as I can do... Okay ladies, here I go. Onward, the forgiving march to my bed!