December 2016

Year 2, Week 26: We’ll be home for Christmas

We’re officially half-way through our second year of marriage! This year, we figured out to see both families on the days where presence matters the most.

Christmas becomes more special every year. I realize more and more that what I have in my life cannot be taken for granted. I can be upset with circumstances and unhappy with people’s decisions, but ultimately I have a roof over my head, a warm place to dry my hat and gloves, and a heart that beats.

I am so aware of those people who are lonely, grieving, or sick at this time of the year. I’m also cognizant of those who have everything they’ve ever wanted and still don’t feel the joy of family and the warmth of a loving home. I recognize that what I’ve lived in the past 48 hours is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. It’s what I prayed for when Cody and I were long distance. It makes me want to slap 19 year-old Ania on the wrist and say, “See? We made it work. Now stop your sniffling.”

In my Polish family, Wigilia is celebrated every Christmas Eve, so it’s a given that I will spend every December 24th for the foreseeable future in Chicago. Cody, however, has Christmas Day traditions that I really do not want him (or me!) to miss. I usually flew down to Arkansas on Christmas morning, but Southwest Airlines didn’t offer a non-stop flight this year, and every other airline was making sure anyone who wanted to travel this Christmas wouldn’t have money left over for any presents.

At 1:30 a.m., right after Midnight Mass (during which I played and sang at church) we hopped in the car and made our way to central Arkansas. Cody and I switched as the drivers when one would get tired. He took the hard hours of 2 through 5am and then I took the early hours of the morning until the sun came up a little after 7. It was so cool to drive with no one on the road, embracing the “Silent Night, Holy Night” part of Christmas. The drive went by pretty quickly, and we spent the last couple hours talking about whatever we talked about.

I’m convinced that every couple needs to take a long(er) trip before they get married. If your silences aren’t (too) awkward and you find you’re not running out of things to talk about, the person next to you should stick around.

It has meant so much to me that we were able to spend both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with those we love the most. It is special and I almost feel spoiled for having the opportunity to experience the overwhelming love of two families that Cody and I get to call our own.

On the drive over, as I’m thinking all these things and singing out loud “I’ll be home for Christmas…” my heart just about burst when Cody patted my knee and smiled at me, saying, “I already am.”

Santa’s elves found their way to Arkansas, Rudolph’s red nose replaced by a bright red Toyota.

Year 2, Week 25.5: Work Ethic, for the Record.

While I was half-way through my evaluations of 100+ student writing assessments, I could feel his two blue eyes boring into mine. As if his beckoned mine to attention, I felt my eyebrows begin a dance of surprise, and then suspicion.

“What’s up?” I asked tentatively.
“Nothing. I’m just loving you.”

Who says that? And why does it make me so awkward? All the romance novels I’ve read get this all wrong. It’s like his marriage proposal all over again. When he didn’t laugh at my joke, I realized it was for real. Cue butterflies and sweaty palms.

“..Okayy.. That’s really sweet, but I’m not really doing anything worthy of such an outpouring at the moment.” (God’s grace, anyone? Receiving love when you feel you didn’t do anything to earn it?)

He just kept looking and smiling. He eventually walked away and I felt like I could breathe again. If I had only been drinking red wine at the time, maybe I would have been a bit more suave in my reception of his affection? I don’t want him to feel like it’s not appreciated and dissuade such a courtship.

And then this happened again the next day! But this time, as I was into my 17th essay of the day with bedtime approaching, he had something to say, which I can work with.

“You work really hard.”

It meant a lot to hear him say that. I had been grading so many essays in such a short amount of time, that to hear him acknowledge it seemed to give me even more energy to finish. With a grin, I agreed with him, and affirmed, “Yeah, we do work really hard. I don’t think we’d be together if we didn’t have the work ethic we do.” Future Cody and Ania, I hope you remember that praise goes way further than criticism, especially when babies come into the mix.

Real talk for a second though – I’m also secretly starting to get a little nervous. This whole work ethic/working a lot thing hasn’t just been going on in my own life – he has been getting interrupted sleep himself, having to check for code bugs at midnight.. 3am.. 5am.. It’s been cute to hear him figure out ways to stay in bed but also keep the bright light of broken code away from my sleeping eyes. I also know, however, that the boy is human and the boy needs sleep. SO between the two of us working longer hours than normal, this Christmas will be a very welcome break. This may sound facetious, but I do not want to feel like the computer, or work, or our individual pursuits, are coming between us. But this is what we do – we work our asses off in the winter, hustling among 6 different jobs (between the 2 of us) – so that we can buy plane tickets to explore the world. We climb the mountains with 60 lbs packs up the last 1,000 ft. so that we can enjoy the panoramas together. It’s exhausting, but ultimately worth it.

And, Jesus, it now occurs to me that if I replace “computer” with “future baby,” this sounds like a foreshadowing of what’s to come in a couple years. What’s an added 20 lbs of smiles and poop and cuddles? We can do that.

I want to finish with this.

Let the record state that, in this week of our marriage, Cody did say the following words:

“You know, it’s actually a good thing that I can still function and wake up at weird hours of the night. A baby will need that. I can be that.”

Yes, you surely can be, Cody, baby. 😉

Year 2, Week 24: Thanks, Daddy

This last weekend in Chicago ushered in our first snowfalls and the freezing temperatures. I had to work early on Sunday morning to play at Mass, so the snow was still freshly fallen on the relatively short distance (~2 blocks) between my parents’ house and the church. I was prepared to walk the way (nothing like shock to your lungs to wake someone up for singing). When I drove up to my parents’ house, Dad was already out shoveling the back walk-way. After some exchanged pleasantries, Dad casually asked if I was going to walk or drive to church; I didn’t really think anything of it when I told him I’d be walking. I went inside the house to wrap my fingers around a warm cup of tea. Even though I just left from my home, there’s nothing quite like coming home to Mom and Dad’s. I think even their lemons make the tea sweeter.

When I walked out of the house, Dad smiled and said, “Well, that’s the best I could do with my back.” When I looked, I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him how amazing he was, but we’re European and have a hard time saying “I love you” so I just thanked him and told him I’d see him later.

The man had shoveled a straight path as far as the eye could see from our house to the church, so that my feet could have a clear way to Jesus.

And now tell me again that my expectations for my husband may be too high? It’s my dad who gave them to me. He has been my first (and, in many cases, only) example of what it means to be treated with dignity, respect, and worth – as if I’m worth a cleared path on a cold Sunday morning when he should definitely be sleeping in instead. But, thanks to my dad, I feel like I am.

So when Cody went outside to shovel without any prompting from me, I knew the adage is true – A girl finds a man who reminds her of her father. And what’s so exciting for me is that Cody only shows glimmers of what he could be – what I know he will be – and that’s pretty darn remarkable.

Year 2, Week 23: You do you, baby.

Dear Cody,

I loved being a witness of your life this weekend. We were able to visit Philadelphia, the city that saw you learn what it’s like to live in the “big city” away from your small town in Arkansas. You are social, so you didn’t have an issue making friends. But it was your involvement in the Drexel Smart House that really helped you become who you are – a loyal leader, an incredible thinker, a good friend.

We started dating when you assumed the role of President in this organization that hopes to create an example of sustainable living for others. We spent hours on Skype not really talking, just typing away – me, at my AP U.S. History homework, and you discussing with your best friend Patrick your latest “politicking” plan to get your ideas in front of the University’s President (because that’s the person you are: Go straight to the top.. sheep skin just isn’t your style). I swear there’s nothing more attractive than a man who goes after what he wants, but makes sure he is being kind, ethical, and overall gracious on his way there. There’s also nothing like seeing you when you’re in your element, leading a community of thinkers towards a common goal (and challenging them to imagine even bigger goals while they’re at it). The way you infuse your humor into intelligence is also quite wonderful. I roll my eyes, but you and I both know I secretly adore you for it. Life would be so boring without you.

So when you were back in your element, laughing hard with friends who are quickly becoming some of my best, I couldn’t help but realize how badly I want your eyes to shine just as brightly when you’re home in Chicago, too. This trip was the first time I heard one of your beloved mentors, Joan, admit how upset she (and many others were) when they heard of your decision to leave Pennsylvania for a girl. You know I’ve often felt guilty for taking you away from Arkansas in case you wanted to be with your family, and I have struggled with not feeling guilty for taking you away from your friends, too.

Not difficult to imagine why Cody’s mentor, Joan, had a hard time letting him go to Chicago, is it?

But then I realized listening to you talk about your own childhood desires this morning on our way to work that it’s not “taking you away” from something as much as it is a “running towards” a life with me in it. And boy, do I feel lucky.

I suppose the point of this random love letter is that I had a chance to really see you this weekend. And what I saw especially was how your eyes danced when you were back in that place of leadership, where the memory of crashing high-profile meetings as a student is not actually that far away.

But I think it’s time for you to make new memories. Take bigger risks. Keep dreaming. Solidify those relationships and build a team of mentors, colleagues, and friends that will get you through the valleys and celebrate with you when you reach those peaks. You are a man full of potential and goodness and love. I am honored to be your wife and will be your rubber ducky whenever you need me to be. Besides, if we’re ever in a rut because you followed my advice, well, now we have it in writing. I’ll stand by you no matter what.

I love you more with each passing day. I am already so proud of you. Now go do big things.

Love,

Ania

Year 2, Week 22.5: How I Won NaNoWriMo 2016

A teacher asked us one year as a “First Day of School” icebreaker what our biggest dream was. I was last to answer, and mine was pretty far-out: “I want to write a best-selling novel one day.”

That became “I want to write a novel one day” and, after hearing my father-in-law tell me with zero doubts in his voice, “You know – you’d write a great book” I decided “one day” wasn’t good enough for me anymore. I hated being all talk and absolutely zero action. I committed to NaNoWriMo – writing 50,000 words in 30 days, with the hope that the first draft of a first novel would be born.

In it’s most basic form of understanding, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month and, in it’s painful form of explanation, it forced me to confront all the ugly parts about the creative process: the doubts, the uncertainty of whether I could even do this, and the temptation to use excuses of “not enough time” or “writer’s block.”

I learned so much about myself in 30 days – here are 6 ways how.

My husband really is my biggest fan. The man stood there like the father he will be one day, demanding I put my cellphone in his hands because it was distracting me. Again. But he’s also the first one to light up in a smile when I tell him I met my daily word count (1,667 per day, to stay on track). He was able to express physically what I felt mentally: pure joy at me embracing what he (we) always saw as my potential.
I learned who I don’t feel like I have to “please.” As a perfectionist, this is huge. I usually do not like sharing ANYTHING until it is ready for admiring eyes, so if you saw my long-faced SnapChats or I sent you a text message asking for prayers or I saw you and grinned, telling you of my progress, that means I am deeply convinced that you would still love me, even if I completely failed and gave up halfway through November. But it’s precisely because I told you that I’m pretty sure I made it. I wanted YOU as motivation because, even though you would have still loved me, I did not want to let you down. So thank you. Ideally, personalized Thank You cards will soon be in the mail.

Special shout-out to my co-workers in the teacher’s lounge who would ask me what my characters were up to that day. In many cases, what we would discuss often-times fueled that evening’s writing.
I learned how to shut off my “inner editor” – that voice that would keep telling me things like “That sentence was stupid” or “That word is so elementary; you’re an English teacher for crying out loud – how could you not be more precise?” By Day 20 when I was 5000+ words behind, however, I didn’t have time for the inner editor. She needed to go, because I needed to write. Fast. (As a result, I also learned how to write faster. Thank Jesus, because I never would have “made it” otherwise).
I learned how to make writing – this often elusive desire and never a concrete practice – a priority. I look back and wonder how I was able to write SO much in such a short amount of time with so many other responsibilities. Turns out that with less TV and way less Facebook and more intentional, prioritized, scheduled “me” time, I was able to do it just fine (and without losing any sleep!). I needed to stop flaking out on that part of myself that just wanted to write. If a part of me kept feeling like the kid that kept getting ditched, well, that stinks, so I had to start showing up.
I really love writing by myself in coffee shops. The vibe makes me feel like I’m legit. Also coffee makes my fingers move faster. Can’t say the same for my brain, but I try.
Students began coming up to me and asking them if I could give them tips for writing a book. Who, me? But I’m not even published yet (Shh, inner editor.. Shh.) One student even wrote her own 30,000 words, with no intention of slowing down. The day she was 3000+ words ahead of me on word count, I knew I had to get back on track. Competition is the best motivation, I’m telling ya – even when it’s against a 14 year old who doesn’t realize she just started a fire under your butt 😀

In short (ha! I’m even more long-winded now than I was before), I guess I just wanted it bad enough. I don’t want Cody to feel like the kid that keeps getting ditched, so I choose to keep showing up to my marriage, too. Turns out the hard work is worth it – and it gave me plenty of material for the first draft of my very first novel.

We’ll see where this gravy train takes us.