Our dining room table is like everyone else’s – well, anyone else who’s cool with the overall living process and recognizes that random stuff finds its way on the table-top every now and then.
We were able to visit our Arkansas family a week ago for a whirlwind weekend and had a really amazing time reconnecting with everyone we don’t get to see as often as we’d like. We left on a Friday, drove for 11.5 hours, stayed Saturday, Sunday, and were back on our way Monday. No worries – it was definitely worth the drive, and I’d do it again in a heart beat.
But that’s not what this week’s reflection is about.
I particularly remember the sweet silence of entering our Chicago home and reminiscing. And then I remember the surprise – Cody brought up all the stuff on our dining room table (we just kind of threw the stuff down… it was bed time!), and I assumed he was about to complain about the mess we already made. But he didn’t. He said, “Did you see our table? It has all the stuff we love on it. Your manuscript and a pen for editing, my moleskine notebook with work notes I was jotting down, some nice China plates for when we hosted dinner last weekend, the books we’re reading, a picture of Mary and Jesus saying ‘God Bless Our Home’.” He could have kept going, but he didn’t have to.
We took with us – and brought back – our basics: artifacts that represented our love for words, ideas, and people. That means we are becoming the people we imagined we could be, together.
It’s just a snapshot of daily life, but it’s a picture of a life we’re building together. And that’s pretty special.
Cody could have complained – he had every right to.
I left my leftover lunch in the Tupperware.
In my lunch bag.
For three days.
Yuck.
Background: My mom would often clean up after me because she’s a saint and I’ve always been kind of lazy, and any time anything made me really super uncomfortable (like, gross, smelly food), someone else (Dad?) would take care of it. It’s an uncomfortable truth. I know where the problem comes from. I know where it leads. I do it any way. That, my friends, is what we call a character flaw.
But, when confronted with my mess, Cody didn’t say a thing. I mean, while I was taking a shower, I heard him gag, but that was it. When I was out of the shower, I saw a clean dish and we proceeded as normal. I felt the shame. I thanked him for cleaning it – again – and he just kind of shrugged. I hated myself and promised not to let it get to this point ever again. I’ll let you know if I follow through.
Last week, Cody and I decided we’d take a fairly spontaneous trip down to Arkansas to visit family during the upcoming weekend. On Thursday morning, Cody proclaimed, “I have a goal. I am going to make sure the house is clean before we leave tomorrow so that we can come back to a more appealing home.” I completely agreed – especially with the part where he said “I”.
But I found that, when I came home on Thursday afternoon, I started working on Cody’s goal. I dropped in a load of laundry right away (one of the only chores I prefer, probably because my dad made it a bonding activity for us, instead of something I should scorn). Then, I started washing a load of dishes. I performed these two chores on repeat until the clothes were folded and almost all the dishes were dried.
He didn’t come home right after work like I thought he would. He did send a text around 7:30pm to ask how things were going at home, which I thought was a little strange, since he should have been home around this time. Reminder, if you need one: he was the one who said he was going to clean the house. At 9pm, the house was almost clean, but not because he was home, and definitely not because he told me to.
I love the man so much that his desire for a clean house motivated me to do it as an act of service to show him my love. I knew that he’d really appreciate me packing our bags and cleaning up the house, especially because he knows I’d seriously rather be doing other things.
So he came home a little after midnight to a clean home, gave me a big hug in the morning, and asked if I was mad at him. I answered him honestly, and the answer honestly surprised me.
No, I’m not. I found I meant it, too.
No? Ania, this would have made you so mad before. True. But this is before he cleaned up my messes and didn’t say a word about it.
It’s like we have our own language now. We don’t have to say anything, but I imagine the conversation runs in its silent current as follows:
Cody: My wife is a slob. But I love her. I know she really hates doing this stuff, and I value a less-smelly house (apparently more than she does) so I’ll clean it up.
This is so gross. But I love her…
Ania (hiding, as Cody is cleaning): Ugh. Why do I do this. Why don’t I just take care of it right away? I feel shame. …Why isn’t he yelling at me? Or at least making me feel bad?
I guess he doesn’t make me feel bad for the same reason I’m not mad at him for not showing up to his own idea of a clean house (haha). I didn’t want to ruin the trip – he’s usually the main cleaner of the house, so it wouldn’t be fair to get mad at him during a rare time he’s out enjoying himself with his colleagues.
Just like I know I have my character flaws, I also know that my husband loves me with extraordinary grace – he gives me love (forgiveness, mercy, goodness..) when I least think I deserve it. I guess you can say I have decided it’s time for me to grow up and start doing the same.
Here’s a relatively unorganized list of our priorities.
Spend quality time with each other. Even though our schedules don’t really align at all, we make time for each other in the beginnings and ends of every single day.
HUGS. Morning hugs, afternoon hugs, before-bed hugs; it doesn’t matter.
Make time for play time. The daily grind is not sustainable, and it ultimately makes us unhappy, so we have to make time to just have some fun. This means weekends should be generally free of self-inflicted, scheduled, sadness.
Live intentionally; don’t live “other people’s lives” just because it’s popular.
Set time aside frequently for friends and family. Bring people together, especially people who don’t know each other already. We try to make community building our “thing.”
Keep a healthy balance of spontaneous and planned living.
Travel! Where to, how long, how we’ll do it, and why.
Make a ridiculous deal out of when the other comes home (i.e. “shaking our tails”). It’s almost stupid how simple, and yet how effective, it is.
Lots of giggling. Tell awful puns.
Read together in bed.
Don’t be afraid to have hard conversations, especially when we’re not sure how we’ll come to an agreement.
Don’t take each other for granted; life is just too short.
Eat clean, exercise, and live a relatively healthy lifestyle.
Don’t binge-watch shows; we delay-gratify the crap out of Netflix.
Make time away from each other! Absence makes the heart grow fonder and sweetens the reunion that much more; recently, it’s been Montana for me and camping trips for Cody (although I did crash the last one.. sorry I’m not sorry).
“Bed Time is the Best Time!”
Show our love through action (e.g. Cody picks up my messes, and I plug in his phone whenever he forgets).
Take concrete actions towards the achievements of our dreams.
Ask the other hard questions. Wait lovingly for the answer.
Pray at the dinner table. Pray again in bed, if it’s been a tough day.
I keep forgetting it’s not just me anymore.
But then it is me – my likes, dislikes, and character.
But it’s not just about me anymore.
But how do we talk about stuff when his likes, dislikes, and character, sometimes seems to clash with mine?
This long weekend was tiring. We didn’t do anything crazy. We read a lot, laughed a lot, and walked around beautiful 60-degree sunshiney Chicago a lot, but we also talked a lot.
Or, at least, he talked a lot. And I thought a lot about how I’d respond.
This is a frustrating reflection to write because there isn’t an answer at the end. I just think you should know what the real difficulty is here.
Cody loves “rough draft” talk. “Rough draft” talk is the idea that, without any real aim (or with just a tentative end in mind), the speaker can feel free to just speak. It’s through speaking that she can create, or stumble upon, more ideas than if she had remained silent. I claim to love it, and I encourage my students to do it all the time (“Don’t be afraid! Talk it out! This is how we learn!”), but when it comes to actually practicing it, I freeze like an opossum who never saw the other guy coming.
Example:
Cody and I decided to go out on Friday night (Yay!) to enjoy the spring-weather in mid-February. We were waiting in traffic when a group of teenage girls passed by us and Cody commented, “Jeez. Herd mentality. Our kid will never…”
And that’s all I had to here for every single one of my porcupine needles to spring out of my usually-soft exterior. I’m pretty sure one even flew out of the open window, judging by the echoing shriek from the girls running around outside. I tried to coax them back in, lovingly reminding them that Cody isn’t the enemy and I should just listen and learn from his perspective.
So I asked him what he meant. And I didn’t like what he had to say.
Because I was already on the defensive.
I’m not here to air out our dirty laundry. I’m not even hear to complain that we had a spat – that’s normal stuff. I’m here to describe what happens when I close up, or “needle-out.”
When I feel offended, I stop talking. It’s a hearkening back to “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” There is no rough-draft talk. This makes Cody feel like (hold on, let me ask him).. “I generally assume that I have done something wrong and I can’t fix it because I don’t know what it is. Or, I feel like you’re holding back thoughts that could help us improve our relationship because you’re afraid of causing issues today. I, however, would rather work through any issues today so we can have a happier, more successful tomorrow.” Yes, he really said that. What an English teacher’s dream, amiright?
So I clamp up. In my mind, yes, I am holding something back because I feel like I’m not thinking the way I should be thinking. I look up to Cody so much that sometimes I feel like I’d rather just go along with his way of thinking because he’s older than I am, which means he has spent more time reading than I have and has, at the end of the day, lived more life than I have. I have spent most of my life looking up to my three older brothers, so I have tons of practice putting my thoughts aside to just listen to someone else’s opinions.
But Cody’s not interested in that submission crap. And that means I have to “rough draft” talk when I least want to. I want to speak eloquently always, making perfect sense in every sentence. I don’t want him to snap onto a few words that I may not have even meant, which could cause an even greater misunderstanding. It’s not that I don’t want to work on our relationship, it’s just that uncomfortable conversations really suck, especially when your significant other really wants to know what you think.
So I guess this is just a reflection showing what I know I still have to work on. Cody and I can flirt, joke around, and have surface conversations with the best of them. But what makes our marriage truly ours is how much hard labor we’re willing to pour into the foundation.
And if you want a sturdy foundation, you have to be willing to get dirt under your fingernails, some porcupine needles in your butt, and a lot of rough draft talk to get a perfect blueprint.
Proof from our Friday night that sums up our discomfort. But at least we were full on Mexican and chocolate. ..Maybe that was the problem.
I give Cody permission to write this week’s reflection. In the spirit of our latest Netflix binge, “Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events”, look away, look away, because Cody is going to be honest with my shortcomings. I promise it ends on a sweet note, because, even though we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, this week’s reflection is proof that we’re romantic even on days that aren’t endorsed by Hallmark. Here’s Cody.
At the beginning of 2017, we decided to make one of our goals for the year to have a pre-planned monthly “traditional” date night—a movie, dinner, ice skating, that sort of thing.
One of our biggest issues as a couple is that Ania likes to go out a lot more frequently than I do, whether it’s dinner out or fancy cocktails with friends. I, on the other hand, prefer having people over to our house where we can skip the long lines, cook dinner together, make our own fancy cocktails for 1/10 the price, talk without being drowned out by other people or obnoxiously loud music, and play an occasional board game. (I’m not biased at all. 😉 ) Add in the fact that we’ve set some very ambitious financial goals together, and dining out falls to the bottom of my priority list.
While this difference in priorities alone can be a source of contention, we learned a valuable “couple insight” for ourselves in 2016. We would go out with friends on Wednesday and Ania would be complaining on Friday that we never go out anywhere. But when we have a night out planned and on the calendar in advance, the act of looking forward to the evening makes her appreciate the experience more.
This brings us back to our goal of a monthly “traditional” date. With all of this in mind, we made sure to prioritize a pre-planned date night in our 2017 goals. (More on our “couple goals” process later.)
While we’ll still go out with friends spontaneously when the occasion arises, having a set night out for ourselves alleviates some of this anxiety and reinforces the experience. Similarly, we’re trying pre-planned group “dates” each month with a core group of friends as well. But that’s another subject.
So we scheduled a recurring night on the calendar for the 2nd Thursday of every month. This makes sure we don’t miss a month and gives us something to look forward to each month.
Unfortunately, there was a bit of a snag with this month’s plans. On the Wednesday before our date night, my office had to be evacuated. Long story short, we had some equipment fail. We ordered replacements to be shipped overnight. They arrived Thursday afternoon and my boss asked everyone to stay late to help install the new stuff.
I didn’t know how long it would take, so I stayed a little late to help get started. But as I realized we weren’t wrapping up, I had to excuse myself to my boss:
“I don’t want to be a quitter, but Ania and I have plans.
It’s date night.”
I’m fortunate to have a boss who understands. But behind this understanding is a plethora of conversations my boss and I have had together about priorities, starting before I was even hired. (Working in finance often means 12-14 hour days and I wanted to be clear from the start that a work-life balance is important to me.)
So when I asked to bail a little early, he just smiled and said,
“Go save your marriage.”
I know Ania is happier today because we chose to honor our date night this week. And that makes me a happy boy.
Cody and I were at my parents’ house sometime before we got marriage, eating the breakfast my mom made for us, and she was still adding more items to the smorgasbord. As she stirred veggies in a pan for omelettes and folded deli meats and cheeses, my dad was getting dressed in their adjacent bedroom and telling her a story in between grunts and pauses (the man’s pants seem to shrink of their own accord, he claims). I couldn’t help but notice that my mom was not only kind of listening to Dad, but also preparing breakfast and also unsuccessfully eavesdropping on my own quiet Sunday-morning conversations with Cody over the funny pages. When Dad’s story seemed to come to a conclusion, like the movement of a song finding its resting beat, my mom gave an over-zealous “Woow..”
Cody and I started laughing immediately. We still don’t know if it was the effort she was trying to put in, signaling to Dad that she actually was listening and trying to engage with his story, or the fact that the response was so ingenuous it was laughable. Whatever it was, Mom knew she was caught and let herself be caught in giggles. We didn’t know it at the time, but these “Woow” conversations are quite normal in marriage. For my dad, they’ve been happening for 40 years. For me and Cody, we’re trying to figure out which topics we can get away with responding “Whoaa” to, and which ones we need to be serious for (as-it should go without saying- a serious topic needs a serious listening ear).
Rather than bore you with which conversation topics those “Whoaa” responses are common for us as a couple (I suppose if you really want to know, you can just ask – I honestly don’t know if you’d be interested or not), I thought this Big Bang Theory clip was spot-on. Enjoy!
There are so many quotes online about love and relationships, and they usually sound nice and uplifting, but I keep scrolling and move on with my day. I finally stumbled upon one, though, that I thought was right-on and thought it was important to share:
I am willing to claim that uncomfortable conversations are at the heart of every growing relationship. When each person is in the same place in life, conversations are easy; in truth, they’re probably so easy because they’re not quite deeper than discussing one’s likes, dislikes, and past formative events. It gets more challenging when factors beyond one’s control begin entering the equation – a new job, or an opportunity that is located in another city, or a new personality that’s entered the mix that threatens to destroy the dynamic you had grown accustomed to. Regardless of the circumstance, a relationship will always feel like there’s resistance – like there is something “in the way” of it becoming just perfect, or whole, or magical.
It is never whole, perfect, or magical.
It is only your perspective that can make it appear so. Therein lies the magic.
The secret? Remain committed to your person despite the hardest conversation. And, if you don’t have a “your person” yet, stay on the look-out for the type of person you wouldn’t mind having difficult conversations with. The only way to know if that person will be “yours” is if you can have a disagreement, talk it out, and feel like you love him/her more than before.
If it seems simple, that’s because it is. It’s really only the commitment that needs to be tried. Like a wise student told me the other day: “The quality of a relationship depends only on the effort put in.”
Potential difficult conversation topics no one told you to expect during marriage (these could be from experience, or not):
– Who actually pays for the wedding
– What if your vision of your wedding day looks totally different from your future husband’s?
– So we have a joint budget now? No? Yes? Does that mean I can still spend my money how I want? No?
– Wait, so we’re not having a dinner date night every weekend? But I heard it’s important!
– Do we celebrate Valentine’s Day?
– How would you like your birthday celebrated? No, really.
– Why are you actually a slob?
– Family. All the topics and sub-topics and even more you never saw coming.
– When do you want a baby?**
– Do you believe in God?
– Do you believe in unconditional love?
– How much time do we actually want to spend together after work? Do you need more wind-down alone time than I do?
– Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
– What’s your dream? Do our dreams match? Again, the scary part here is that dreams, just like non-negotiables, can change.
– How many times a week do we want home-cooked meals? Who’s going to cook them?
– Wait, what kind of school do you want our kids to go to?
– I’ll add more over time, I’m sure.
**It’s important to note here that before you accept (or propose) a marriage commitment, there are some fundamentals that definitely need to be discussed (not agreed upon, necessarily, but definitely come to a mutual understanding and respect for one another’s views), like whether or not you want kids, how important family really is to you, religious values, etc.
My point is – every couple will have different unforeseen challenges ahead. The goal is to find the person who will want to hear your ideas, feel safe enough to contribute his own, and ultimately see you at the end of the equation, regardless of the method you take to get there.
Last night, right before I was going to leave the house for the evening, I slipped my rings off my finger and placed them on top of our chest of drawers. I called to Cody reassuringly, “I’m not leaving you!”
He believed me. At this point, it’s become a kind of joke. I keep my rings safe from the volleyball pick-up games I play every Wednesday night or, sometimes, I slip my rings off because my skin begins to crack from the dry winter weather.
It seems like a simple thing, I know, but there’s a world of meaning in that interaction. Let me explain.
What if we had had a bad day -fighting and arguing and assuming the worst in each other- and I had just left my rings there and huffed off to volleyball? If I never reassured him of my vow, the removal of my rings would signal something that could be misconstrued as “I’m threatening you. I’m punishing you for making me feel this way. I hope you feel afraid to lose me.”
From what I hear, people choose this route quite often. I have yet to hear whether this is an effective strategy or not. As for me and Cody, we decided long ago not to play those games. They’re not constructive for our relationship.
In fact, I’ve noticed that, when I really needed to take my rings off one night (because my hands needed some quality lotion time) – after we really had argued – he didn’t jump to conclusions. I’m not sure he even noticed. If he had, though, he’d understand that I wasn’t sending him subliminal messages that I wanted to exit the relationship. Instead, I hope he would have the opposite reaction: even though I’m upset, I promise I’m still be here for you.. I just don’t feel like cuddling right now.
The way I see it, the rings – though left behind – remind him where my heart belongs. I can be a boss at volleyball in the meantime.
I love seeing love celebrated, especially when it’s so present among relationships right in front of you. Cody and I brought in the new year in such a special way, witnessing our best friends vow their lives to each other (as if they had not already spent the previous 10 years of their relationship doing so, but the title does, at the end of the day, make a difference.)
As the bride’s sister said so eloquently during her Maid of Honor speech last night, the couple, Josh and Halyna, are so inspiring because they always look like they’re having the time of their lives – it’s the love between them and the love they share with those around them that makes life an adventure worth embarking on. And they’re some of the best c0-captains I’ve ever seen.
I spent some of the day trying to remember what details and memories I remembered from our wedding day, but I quickly found that, apart from hearing the song I walked down the aisle to, there really were not many times that I was crying tears of joy because of my own wedding day memories – they were all spent in witness of these two human beings, who have been nothing but kind and full of love and laughter towards us since we began spending time with them.
What really touched my heart was what I noticed when I finally took a break from the dance floor.
There was an upbeat song playing, my husband was being entertaining and goofy (EASILY the most comfortable I have EVER seen him in a social setting, EVER), and I was lounging on one of the couches, sipping cool water, observing the couples in front of me.
What I have is not as rare and unattainable as I would have thought.
First, I appreciated the fashion sense of those in attendance; people clean up so well when they want to show A New Year how they want to be treated (with style, elegance, and lots of fun). Next, I lifted my glass to the DJ, a master at seamless transitions and the one responsible for my burning legs and dirty bare feet. He didn’t seem to notice, but I didn’t mind. Finally, my eyes opened to the spectacle before me. [Pardon me for being ambiguous, but it was one of those moments that, if you’re not looking for It (whatever It is), you will totally miss It.] Luckily, I didn’t miss anything. My eyes drank it all in – the women in love with their partners, hair flying around, saucers that have no intention of landing, a radius of rhythm and simultaneous grace, and the men, who jumped around their dates, doing any silly/crazy/goofy move that would make her laugh even harder. I couldn’t help but giggle at all of the antics. It felt like I was cheating, getting a sneak peek into many strong relationships at once. The connections were so palpable and strong.
The majority of the dancing couples are married. But it was one of the most significant times of my marriage that I realized that what I have is not as rare and unattainable as I would have thought. Cody and I were one of the youngest couples there, to be sure, but the quality of our relationship seems to be on par with those who have been together for many years longer. What I absolutely adored was that each and every couple (easily 7 or 8, from my vantage point) looked like they were having the time of their lives. It’s like Josh and Halyna, throughout their relationship, have been finding couples that reflect not only who they are as a couple, but who they want to be, too. It was a humbling experience to be one of those couples. Again – it can never be taken for granted, for it can be gone in the next heart beat. Live through a relationship like that, and you’ll be certain not to hold a grudge for too long. But I digress.
I was validated in all this sentimentality when the groom’s super sweet Midwestern Mom asked me if I noticed something about the couples in the room. I nodded, with a huge smile on my face, and I affirmed, “Yeah, the connections are so strong, and real, aren’t they?” Her eyes just sparkled (Moms are so beautiful when the love they have for their families is so sacrificial and strong and true, aren’t they?). She smiled back and said, “Yes, there was a lot of love in this room. It was something really special.”
To be in the midst of that love -and enjoy such a part in that celebration – is a true blessing to me, and Cody, as we ring in this new year. I’m not sure what it holds for us, but I do know I will continue to be as recklessly hopeful and annoyingly optimistic as I am now. It occurs to me that the joy that is meant to be in the world cannot be felt if we are not open to it. So like I said to another amazing friend who asked me last night how I could be so optimistic, “You have to choose to be grateful. And always keep perspective. That’s what Cody is here for. He keeps showing me what didn’t go wrong.”
May we embrace this new year with eyes wide open, so that we can clearly, wholly, and with all ridiculously optimistic faith, find our It.
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.
I am willing to claim that uncomfortable conversations are at the heart of every growing relationship. When each person is in the same place in life, conversations are easy; in truth, they’re probably so easy because they’re not quite deeper than discussing one’s likes, dislikes, and past formative events. It gets more challenging when factors beyond one’s control begin entering the equation – a new job, or an opportunity that is located in another city, or a new personality that’s entered the mix that threatens to destroy the dynamic you had grown accustomed to. Regardless of the circumstance, a relationship will always feel like there’s resistance – like there is something “in the way” of it becoming just perfect, or whole, or magical.
