Lifestyle – Page 2

Year 2, Week 51: Burnout

You guys. I had a huge realization this week. But before I get into that –

First of all, “No Bad Days” took off like lightning. In just three days, we had over 2,000 readers fall in love with Katie and Brad’s story, and more are getting to know them as the days progress. The power of love and courage and strength and resilience and hope is alive because people seek what they most want to manifest in themselves.

It’s like I always tell Cody: the world is okay because the majority of audiences in movie theaters are still rooting for the good guy to bring justice to the bad one.

To see Katie’s strength-despite what could very easily and understandably be crippling for her plans, dreams, and desires- is an example for all of us to realize that great loss that will inevitably come in our lives but that it is our choice to believe in faith, hope, and love anyway, finding a way to smile through the tears. Kissy faces optional.

Thank you to those who shared (and continue to share) this story. It is one I was humbled and honored to share because I think it’s so important. Living with loss is something we don’t talk about all the time, but it’s happening more than ever. Personally, I think we’re all traumatized and just kind of waiting for the ‘next’ bad news instead of reveling in the good that’s happening right in front of our very noses. Especially the kind we can create for ourselves.

Cody creates his own joy all the time. Sure, I’m the butt of most of his jokes, but they’re relatively harmless. Having three older brothers to tease me all the time only kind of messed me up, so I think I can handle the sly jabs. Maybe that’s what made him comfortable to begin with. [Am I onto something big here? Better stop thinking about it and step away 😉 ]

Sometimes, I laugh at the jokes and give it right back to him. This is when Cody is most happy. He loves word play probably more than anyone else I’ve ever known (Shakespeare might beat him by a few hundred jokes, but we have longer life-spans now, so I think Cody has a chance).

Sometimes, I groan and roll my eyes. His puns are really, really bad that they’re good, and I think I’m his wife because I’m the only one who will really start giggling when we’re out with friends. In fact, I can confirm it because his arm will often wrap around my back when he hears my laugh in the midst of cricket-silence.

How we hope to raise our children one day.

But lately, I’ve been really, really not into his jokes. In fact, there hasn’t even been an eye-roll, or sigh, or “Seriously?” Instead, I’ll kind of just nod my head zombily (it’s a word now, okay?) and walk away.

AND NOW I KNOW WHY.

I’ve been burnt out. Severely, totally, “please do not add another thing onto my list because I might implode” burnout. This has happened plenty before, but now I had a solid two months of gottagetthisdoneorelse anxiety lighting my ass and no rest to cool the poor cheeks.

It’s only now, with time – time with God, time with friends, time with myself, time with Cody, time with my family, time with nature – that I find myself slowly walking out of the fog that is detached, depressed, unmotivated, irritated, and unproductive Ania.

And the first visible sign of recovery was a few days ago when I laughed heartily at Cody’s teasing and gave it right back. I could tell he was glad his Ania was back, too, judging by the quick wrap-around hug, twinkle in his eye, and kiss on my hand.

It’s good to be back.

Year 2, Week 49: At Least I Have a Cody

For whatever reason, it’s been really tough getting back in the swing of things with Cody after my Montana trip this year. Last year, we fell right back into being love birds and enjoying each other’s company after so much time apart. I had come back super rejuvenated and ready to tackle on whatever summer projects came my way, but this year after the 10-day excursion, I was beat and needed extra love and attention.

Unfortunate for present Ania but great for Future Ania and Cody, Cody’s TLC was going towards his baby side-business. While I was gone, there was no one to remind him that night-time meant sleepy-time and so it was a free-for-all and he had tons of momentum on his side from productive nights and busy days.

Present Ania does not like this momentum, however, because somehow this man’s incredible work ethic avoided the laundry machine. This meant he didn’t do 10-days worth of laundry. And I just brought all of my dirty clothes home.

I put on my patient face and calmly asked through gritted teeth why.
He very nicely reminded me that he hates doing the laundry. And, by the way, his white t-shirts are running low.

And then I won the day because I simply blinked instead of throwing a pan (lovingly) at his face and avoided telling him that adulthood is basically doing all the things you hate. But then I realized I’d sound bitter and would probably be taken in by police for questioning for claims of assault and battery (again – ask me about this when I’m drunk) and I’m trying to be a more positive person.

I did the laundry this week (because someone was running low on white t-shirts) and Cody even helped fold it. How nice.

I feel like he’s going to grumble (and I wouldn’t be playing fair) if I didn’t point out that he did clean up the living room and put some of the not-put-away clothes from TWO WEEKS AGO in the closet, so I can’t say he didn’t contribute to the housekeeping cause. I think there were even some washed dishes in there. I know he helped clean the cupboards a bit and ate some more peanut butter. It was expiring*.

I write this with dripping sarcasm and hyperbole because it’s fun, and because Cody really does hate doing the laundry. I’m actually proud of him for sticking to his convictions. I married a man of steel will and commitment. Not many wives can say the same.

In all seriousness, this is something of an unwritten agreement between us: he washes my gross leftover tupperware containers and any pots and pans with beans in them, and I take one for the team and do all the laundry.**

Ready for the exhaustingly positive twist that I’m about to whip out? I can’t really truly complain because at least I have a Cody to yell at about laundry, and I’m more grateful that he’s alive and breathing.

I just wish he’d use that breath to do laundry more than once a year.

Maybe that’ll be my anniversary gift this year.

*ten years from now, because if Cody were Chuck Norris, he’d eat the peanut butter before it was even a tree. Peanuts grow on trees, right? This is summertime, what I am doing thinking?

**…Does this now make it a written agreement? Did I just screw myself? Or is this a win? I hate washing beans from things. Gross.

Year 2, Week 48: “I Know! That’d be a way better story!”

I’m on a school trip away from Cody for ten days, chaperoning eight high schoolers with three other adults. But there’s only one day that was severely testing my patience and eternal optimism.

I’ll only tell you about the relevant instances of this day though.

I was walking across the schoolyard (with gravel beneath my feet rather than wood-chips or astroturf for preschoolers) and kept my eyes down to see where I was going. Gravel or no gravel, my balance is something that I can never fully rely on, so I kept peripheral vision near the southern hemisphere. This was a mistake as I walked – no, escorted – my forehead into the horizontal monkey bar. This hurt.

I iced it and survived.

But then my sunglasses broke. Out of nowhere. But cleanly, so “they didn’t feel a thing,” as one colleague stated. This made me sad, especially because I knew I’d really need shades for our hikes and I didn’t know where to acquire a pair of new ones on the Native American reservation we were on that week.

Later, the students asked me if I was okay because they can be sweet when they want to be and I simply responded, “I wish my sunglasses had broken when I had walked into the pole. That’d be a way better story.” The kids looked at me like I was crazy, but I meant what I said. I’m an English major – I have a desire for all the symbols crashing into meaning at once. In this case, my glasses breaking were a symbol of the lack of eyesight that led my face to become best friends with metal.

But I digress. Congrats to those still reading. You’re the real MVP, and I’m a real rambler.

SO when I talked to Cody later to tell him about my ‘bad’ day, he asked, “Did you break your glasses walking into the pole?” And as much as I wanted to lie and say yes, all I could do was grin at his response. He’s my guy because he completely gets what makes sense to me (us).

And if this doesn’t make any sense to you, well, I guess that’s the point.

Year 2, Week 47: Helen and the Hell Hole, or “Laughter Makes Everything Better”

I didn’t think I’d ever be the wife who calls (yells) for her husband because of an insect. The sister of three older brothers, I thought I was pretty toughened up with the regular Joe household ants, spiders, and flies.

But then I moved to a garden apartment in a new neighborhood and witnessed my bravery decrease with every increase of size in creepy crawlers.

I was right to yell and scream with the surprise flights of a bat in our apartment a few years ago. And I was right to shriek with a roach in my bathroom – my sanctuary after long days. But nothing prepared me for the scuttle of pure evil that would shock me as I sat on the toilet or sleepily walked out of the bathroom to start my day.

After Cody realized that my reactions were not silly or hyperbolic, we got down to business. Much of our coping skills rely on our sense of humor. So here’s a log of our experiences.

Tuesday: What the hell is this thing with legs, a hard shell, and a sense of foreboding? Is this one of the seven plagues? Were the Mayans right and this is how we experience Armageddon?

Thursday: “…Cody?” my voice shook calling him –“Cody..!” — as I saw the damn thing in the bathtub. Again. Bless his heart, Cody ran in like I was dying. I mean, I was, but it’s nice he thought I really was helpless. Once he caught the thing, we thought about flushing Satan’s spawn down the toilet but then realized we were probably actually just going to be saving its life by letting it back into the Hell Hole from which it came (and giving it an amazing hero story to tell its friends), and neither of us is that compassionate, so into the trash it went. We decided on the way to work that the bug’s name was Helen (since she was from the Hell Hole) and we would pray for the repose of her soul (or for the creation of it, since it’s possibly she never had one to begin with).

Update Friday after school, when the Universe is supposed to give teachers a break:

Sent to Cody via Google hangouts, “I think just killed Helen’s grandfather, the leader of the mob.
He had antennae the length of California and could barely move. I think he had a broken hip. He scared the s*** out of me because he snuck up by my foot while I was on the toilet.
I am traumatized for life.”

Update, Saturday morning: Helen’s family likes honey and/or pomegranate pizazz tea. We left a mug on our living room floor that had dried tea leaves on the inside of the mug (don’t judge – what is a home for if you can’t leave things for yourself on the floor and trust it’ll still be there in morning?). This morning, Helen’s Godmother was found enjoying the rest of the tea I thought I finished. Now I can’t get the image out of my head of this bug having a freaking field day outside our bedroom while we were innocently sleeping. It’s important to note that this bug was harder to kill. It was faster than Helen’s godfather was and almost escaped. Note to self: If I want to win a 5k, drink more pomegranate pizzaz tea with honey.

But really, I can’t even open the bathroom door without having a semblance of a panic attack. I think it’s time to call the exterminator.

May 20, 9:35 AM
Update: Cody hugged me after calling the exterminator and told me he’s happy that we’re in this together. I don’t have the heart to tell him that when the Oriental roaches mobilize and demand a human sacrifice, it won’t be me going into the hell hole. Sorry, baby. Love you forever.

Laughter makes everything better.

P.S. I’m not attaching any pictures because I care for your psyche. You’re welcome.

Year 2, Week 46: Low Expectations and Lots of Grace

At the beginning of any potential relationship, I take my sweet time. I meticulously observe the person I’m getting to know and wonder how their character will manifest itself in the variety of environments we might be in together. I started this very deliberately in high school. The girl who became my maid of honor was a volleyball try-out friend first, then a classroom partner, then a lunchroom buddy, and then a best friend. Our relationship grew slowly, but intentionally. I talked, and Kristen listened. And then she talked, and I practiced listening better. Kristen was with me every step of the way during my long-distance relationship with Cody, and she always supported me, even if she thought I was being crazy. She let it all out during her speech at the wedding though, so I think we’re even now.

I always told myself my high expectations for people was a great thing. I told myself I was doing this meticulous character inspection because I was a smart girl and smart girls have high expectations. I enforced these high expectations and reaped some benefits: a few amazing friends and a stellar husband. And then I found the flaw in this approach when it didn’t work out in my favor.

According to the old adage, I am who my friends are. So, if I was a stubborn ninny who immediately gave up on someone once they showed a weakness and flaw in character, so would my friends. One of my dearest friends has become a stranger to me because we do not yet have the grace to forgive each other and move on. But this is a blog about wife reflections and not friend problems, so let’s get to the point.

This high expectations approach might work in attaining the type of person you want as a life partner, but it no longer works if you want to stay married.

I mess up on a daily basis. Despite my manicured, witty performances outside of the home, I say the wrong things and show my flaws recklessly. When it comes to Public Ania and Cody’s Ania, Cody’s Ania is a lot messier, way more insecure, selfish, and needy. By the end of the day, I really do wonder how such a good guy like Cody would want to stay with me, one who has so much to work on? But let’s be real – despite all these hiccups, I still expect him to breathe and understand. He vowed to stick around through thick and thin, right? I’m not as thin as I was in high school, and I’m layered in complexes and anxieties galore. But he still loves me, and that expectation is embossed on solid foundation.

BUT here’s the twisted part. When he has his own slip up, I get upset, wonder what I was thinking seven years ago, and find it difficult to award the same grace and forgiveness. It’s a terrible double-standard and I’ve been working on this since the beginning of our relationship.

When I maintain these almost too-difficult and too-high expectations for my husband, I am not allowing him to be his true, flawed, perfect self. It’s true when they say that there really is no perfect person – just the person you choose to love despite those quirks. Shoot, you even learn to find the quirks endearing (see Bridget Jones’ Diary for an example).

I’ve decided this week that, if I keep my expectations lower, I’m way less disappointed, much more delighted when things go well, and able to focus more on how I’m giving to the relationship and less on what I’m not getting. To be clear, this doesn’t mean I forsake my own wants and desires and needs. It just means I look at my husband’s calloused hands before I demand a massage of my own.

“O Master, Grant that I may never seek
so much to be consoled, as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
and to love, as to love with all my soul.”
– Prayer of St. Francis

This last Tuesday was a really long day. I came home briefly, saw Cody for a hot second, and told him I would be back in 25 minutes. Even though 8pm was approaching and I’d been working for a good 12 hours, I had one last errand to run. When I FINALLY came home for the evening, there was a hot, nutritious meal ready for me, tea waiting for me, and a big bear hug wrapping itself around me. If I had spent the whole day expecting that he’d do all the laundry, keep the house clean, and make dinner, I would have been setting him up for massive failure. He worked all day, too, after all. Instead, I focused on the immediates in front of me and I felt taken care of and forgiven for that day’s flaws. Wow. God’s love manifested indeed.

A quote from our perpetual couple calendar says, “Give 90% of yourself to your spouse and expect only 20% in return.” I scoffed at it the first time I read it because us independent women should have high expectations. But, after almost two years of marriage, I realize that it’s not fair to expect everything of him all the time. We’re not dating any more, where we would have some days apart and he’d have days to plan these extravagant adventures. Instead, we plan together as we weave through the day-to-day blessings of ordinary life, and although this sometimes feels less glamorous and romantic, it is definitely real.

By granting my husband the grace of low expectations, his choice to give of himself then becomes a true gift of sacrificial love.

Year 2, Week 45: Don’t Assume He Can Read Your Mind

I don’t know why women do this. Or maybe it’s not even all women. Maybe it’s just me.

I have a picture of how I’d like Cody to act. Said a different way, I have expectations of what he might do or say that I hope become reality. Example? When I have a big concert coming up, I assume Cody will see the event on our Google calendar and make plans to be there.

But then, that day, if I don’t bring it up and invite him, he probably won’t go.

He would have expected me to communicate my desires with him earlier. That I hadn’t said a peep (even know I brought it up almost every day and brought up stories of me preparing for this concert for a few days now…)

Arrrrghhh. SO frustrating.

Maybe, when we first started dating, I didn’t communicate my desire because I was “testing” to see if he was the ‘right’ guy. That was a failed experiment.

How in the world was Cody supposed to read my mind? He didn’t know me well enough. By not telling him what I wanted and then got mad when he didn’t deliver, I was setting him up for failure.

It’s like asking my students where their project is, getting mad when they don’t have it, and ignoring them when they cry, “But you didn’t even tell us we had homework!”

To which I would reply: Well you should have known, students, by all of my passive-aggressive comments and subtly dropped hints this week that there was going to be a 10 minute presentation from each student today on the beginnings of civilization. Looks like you really messed that one up. Sorry, kid, you fail, for not being a better listener.

As much as it pains me to be so darn detailed about something I’d love to be a surprise, mysterious expectations are a lose-lose situation. Sure, such explicit communication makes me feel like I’m being demanding when I’m laying out exactly what I’d like, but it makes Cody more than happy to listen and accommodate when he can.

Moral of the story – explicit communication of expectations totally kills any romance, but the reality of peace and security in the relationship is worth it.

Don’t set your partner up for failure. Tell ’em what you want.

Year 2, Week 44: Opposites Don’t Attract Me

In one week’s time, I will spend most of my time sleeping (it’s a priority), about 60 hours at work, and the rest of the time split between hanging out with my husband, myself, or with friends.

When Cody and I hang out, we are usually apart.. together. It makes sense. When we were long distance, he’d be working on his homework, while I was working on mine, but we’d both be on Skype knowing the other is there just in case. Now, he’s working on expanding his small business, while I’m working on my first novel. When we want to be a little more focused, we’ll cook together, or sit down at the dinner table and talk about what happened that day. And, sometimes, when it’s just too hard to have a coherent conversation, we turn on Netflix or Hulu.

I just don’t think our marriage would be as healthy as it is if we didn’t have similar tastes in TV series. Some examples of what we’ve enjoyed watching include Gilmore Girls, The Hart of Dixie, How I Met Your Mother, Once Upon a Time, and Big Bang Theory.

Without getting too much in detail, I simply can’t imagine being with someone who didn’t appreciate the same small-town, big-hearted characters that I love. I think it says a lot about who we are as people, and who we want to be as a couple. We discuss so much of the story lines and their characters after every episode. We often find ourselves in deep discussion based on what we watched earlier.

I know people say “opposites attract,” but with so little time with my best friend, it’s way more fun being attracted to the same things.

Year 2, Week 43: Things Are Going Perfectly

This week, it felt like we were at the beginning of our relationship rather than 9 years and almost 2 years of marriage in, reveling in the beauty of our friendship, the laughter, and the memories being made right now.

Sometimes it’s just easy. I don’t have to wonder or second-guess anything, or ask why something wasn’t put away where it should have been, or be uncomfortable with difficult conversations because the most difficult thing to decide is what kind of ice cream we want for dessert.

Sometimes, it just feels good. It feels right. It feels like no one else on the planet will understand me like he does.

I talk a lot about how relationships require lots of work and maintenance and nurturing. It also takes a lot of work to grow plants and trees. But at some point, you literally get to taste the fruit of your labors.

And, if you’re really lucky, you’ll get this feeling most of the time. And boy, is it sweet.

Year 2, Weeks 41 and 42: Lessons > Failures

We’re in Poland for two weeks! I realize this is the first time I missed a weekly reflection since we were married, but because of jet-lag and excitement and a lack of desire to be on a computer when beautiful Krakow was an open door away, I feel justified.

The last few weeks have witnessed me writing sub plans so my students will continue learning despite my extended sojourn, editing my first novel in any moment of down-time, and watching Cody interact with my Polish heritage.

It has been so amazing to see my husband totally open to experiencing the places and family that I’ve grown to remember fondly and make new memories with him. My family has laughed so hard with him. He doesn’t let messed-up Polish words mess up his enthusiasm to learn. Everyone knows Polish is ridiculously difficult to learn, so he is admired rather than ridiculed. Truly, the fact that he is earnestly learning the language is seriously flattering my family. My uncle has appreciated how much Cody embraces life and doesn’t let any potential adventure pass him by. And I have especially loved those quiet moments with Cody when there’s no one else around and he tells me how much he loves that I have this chance to reconnect with family from far away. I even think a part of him is beginning to embrace that this is now his family, too.

My aunt: Wow. Cody even helps clear off the table? Ania, you have it good.

Since we haven’t had much down time, what with going from family member to family member in different villages and cities in southwest Poland, my eyes are perpetually open to what’s going on around me. I have a brain tuned in to patterns – maybe it’s a result of studying piano or analyzing poetry – but I can see when things either keep repeating, or notice when they’re missing. SO.

Being able to appreciate what is in front of us, at this very moment, is the key to my true joy.

I’ve noticed which married couples are still flirting, even 40+ years together. They tease each other, are open to laughing at themselves and one another, and slip in compliments every now and then. They thank each other for little things, and praise each other regardless of how silly the situation may seem. You praise that which you want to see more of, right?

I’ve heard my widowed aunt already say she won’t dance at the family wedding this Saturday because she continues to mourn the loss of her true love, even a decade later. It’s this way of life that makes me love even harder now. Holding grudges just is not worth the time.

And I have been in the presence of a marriage so broken, it seems beyond repair.

Where does this leave me and Cody? I feel like this comes up often, but being able to appreciate what is in front of us, at this very moment, is the key to my true joy. In appreciating even the trials and sorrow that meets us on our journey through life, we understand that they, too, are lessons in improving our characters. And the more I travel with my best friend, the more I realize that Cody and I seem to be reminders to others that it’s okay to act like little kids.

Joy, laughter, and gratitude is what has helped us enjoy every day together up to this point. I hope it continues. I think it will.

Even when the snow falls in the spring, you just have to find a way to see the beauty in it. I think that’s how you avoid the shock of an eventual avalanche – you knew you loved what you had before it was taken away.

After eating ice cream in the car and visiting the castle that used to house German nobility, the snow came down quite a bit. It was gorgeous and fun and will be a memory for a lifetime.

Year 2, Week 40: Getting to Know Him Again

We’ve been married over a year and a half now. I still feel like a newlywed.

We’ve been dating exclusively for 8 years. I still feel I don’t know who I am well enough to tell him everything he wants to know about my likes, dislikes, and dreams.

For over a decade now, I’ve known he was a guy I’d always want to know.

But I also know how quickly people can change. So. Preventative maintenance time.

Directions: Write down the things about yourself that are true right now. Not what you’ve told people for most of your life, or even what you told your significant other when you first started dating. Who are you right now? For 10 minutes, write down your quirks, likes, dislikes, and anything in between. Then share.

Be open-minded. Be prepared to hear things you didn’t think your partner would say about themselves. Don’t be surprised to hear that your own thoughts and beliefs have changed.

You are ever-growing. To check in with the partner you swore to be with for the rest of your natural life is necessary, especially if you don’t want to wake up one day and wonder “Who -are- you?”

Start by asking yourself, “Who am I?”

Then it’s up to you to keep choosing the person your significant other has become. Chances are, the parts you don’t like about him/her reflect something about you: maybe you need to see things from their perspective a bit more, or tell some more stories about how certain experiences have shaped you. Either way, nobody just changes over night. It’s a long process that we tend to ignore, or take for granted. Maybe it’s time to start checking in more regularly.