Year 3, Week 22: Honeymooners

I heard it frequently when we got married: “Enjoy this, because it’ll be over soon.”

And I kept wondering what the “it” was – the magic that surrounds a new marriage? The romantic gestures that Cody has performed since we started dating? The hope of looking forward to an exceptional future together?

Over time, I deduced that these people were talking about the primal, almost naive instincts of young love.

You know what it is: when your butterflies keep you from creating a coherent sentence, or you count down the hours until you get to be with your person again.

Cody and I were already in a serious relationship when I was 17, so the combination of my still-developing brain and teenage hormones made it quite interesting to explore a maturing partnership while navigating how to stay up late to get in as much Skype time as possible.

It was a very fatalistic perspective they suggested, and I’m not one for throwing in the towel so soon.

After this week, I’m firm in my stance that the “honeymoon” stage of your relationship can certainly come back. You just need to change things up.

Cody and I agreed that we’d switch every-other-year between staying in Chicago and traveling to Arkansas for the Thanksgiving holidays.

The first year we were married, we spent Thanksgiving in Chicago, so we decided to take a little road-trip to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, for a free one-night stay using a Hotel.com promotion. Long story short, it was just the get-away we didn’t know we needed. We spent hours in the pool and hot tub, reading and chatting between chapters about what our future could look like. It was actually during this conversation that I became serious about being a novelist. We had a beautiful dinner at the Baker House. We walked along the lake. The hotel we stayed in was loosely occupied. It was wonderful. We didn’t have to spend lots of money, and the experience was one we’ll never forget.

This year, we decided to do something similar. I had many gift cards for restaurants and a voucher for a one-night stay at a downtown hotel, so I booked our room that Monday and we hopped on the train that Friday afternoon.

We knew we had a 9pm dinner reservation that night, so we needed something to hold us over in the meantime. We bought fast-food chicken, walked along the river until we found a place we could picnic (it wasn’t cold compared to what it could be at this time of year!), had fun acting fancy with fluffy robes and super-downy beds, swimming, and watching a movie all before dinner at Nacional 27.

At 17, we weren’t eating fancy meals at a five-star establishment along the riverfront. Instead, we embraced fast food and pretty views for cheap. To return to this aspect of our relationship did wonders to set the mood for the rest of the 24-hour getaway.

We danced and laughed so much that, by the next morning, I found I couldn’t look him in the eye. I felt nervous. At one point in between bites at breakfast (also covered by the hotel voucher – score!), Cody asked me what I was thinking. I struggled for an answer, so I shrugged. My intelligent brain was mush, finding its roots in the memories of 17 year-old Ania. How could I articulate that this, right here, was the most sophisticated we had gotten all weekend and I wanted to do was go back to our room and joke about things only we laugh at in our stupidly fluffy robes. I couldn’t, so I just smiled and said, “This is really nice.”

So when people say things like your marriage will never be as sweet and fun as it is right now, they’re wrong.

Love is as sweet and spontaneous and wonderful as you make it. To be anything less is to be missing out, big time. Make time to be young kids again. I promise it’s worth it.

Year 2, Week 52: The Best “Us” Way to Celebrate

Dear Cody,

It’s been two years since I told you I’d stick by your side no matter what shenanigans befall us – or, more likely, the shenanigans we get ourselves into.

I’ve become a better person by your side, which is the point, I think, of choosing someone to spend so much of your time with. Because of your influence in my daily life, I have become more comfortable being silly,

more sure of my own convictions, more assertive when it comes to making choices that are most healthy for me, and closer to becoming the type of woman who makes moves towards making her dreams a reality (instead of being the type who just talks about them all the time).

Over this past year, I’ve embraced the fact that teasing you back is way more fun than just rolling my eyes. I’ve cherished our long hugs even more than ever before, because it means that my foundation is strongest in your arms. You have helped me see that, despite all the giving and sacrificing I love to do, that relationships need to be two-way streets in order to be healthy for everyone involved.

Watching you ask so many questions invites me to ask my own – a practice that you encourage more than any teacher I’ve ever known.

You helped me write my first book (!!!), getting rid of any doubts I long held about myself, any distractions that might get in the way, and driving me to my super understanding in-laws in Arkansas for Thanksgiving so I could finish writing my self-imposed and community-driven goal of 50,000 words.

And you’ll be there when I print and publish the WifeReflections guided journal and the NaNoWriMo final draft. I fully expect a happy dance and can already feel the joy of that celebration.

The last 24 hours have been the most perfect Ania and Cody way to celebrate our two years as a married couple.

We saw Niagara Falls together, crossing over into the Canadian border and back again, thankful that our spontaneously-planning brains thought of bringing our passports just in case.

Excited that we’re free to roam, but subtly nervous in case the Canadians don’t like us.

Relieved that, not only did the Canadians like us, but that we were able to ride the Hornblower closer to the falls.

Some of my favorite moments are watching Cody truly in awe. I’m so grateful he takes time to enjoy the beauty of the world.

After we got over the fact that the speed limit was now shown in km/hr and I had promised not to get arrested for accidentally breaking the law, we decided to enjoy the ride. Thankfully, you’re the type of person who notices when nature is being extra awesome, so we stopped at the most beautifully-located Lakehouse restaurant overlooking Lake Ontario because, “Ania! Oh my goodness! Look at that! No, seriously, look!”

The double-rainbow was the best indication that we were on the right path.

Beautiful location on Lake Ontario. The best spontaneous “I guess this is where we celebrate our anniversary because we won’t find any better in Chicago” date.

We decided that Lake Ontario looks so gorgeous here because it appears borderless and, therefore, more awesome. Good job, Canada.

Thanks for making me feel pretty even though I didn’t have a chance to get all dolled-up for our dinner.

P.S. I’m also grateful that the prices turned out to be in Canadian dollars, but the fact that you were willing to spend more without complaint to make our experience special says that you are not a total Scrooge as first-year-married-Ania thought. I rescind my prior accu-sumption.

And then we were back in the States this morning, just in time to teach my scheduled piano lessons and let you get back to work by 3pm Central Time.

The fact that I feel so at peace is a testament to our entire year together.

We have grown so much, whether the moves we’ve made have been calculated or they have totally taken us by surprise. I am so grateful that we’re in this together.

You are my favorite travel partner – along any ol’ highway, through a mountain’s long-winding trail, and definitely in this marriage we vowed to protect, nurture, and enjoy.

I will always choose you. Happy 2nd Anniversary. May there be many, many, many more. Like, I want people to be like, “What?! So many years? When did they get married, when they were like, 5?”

I love you,

Ania

Year 2, Week 17: “How Many Kids Do We Have Again?”

Last Thursday we received text messages from some of the kiddos in our lives. One was from a sixth grader who’s just started playing basketball and was excited to invite us to a 7:45pm game the following Friday night, and the other text was sent by our sophomore Poms girl who wanted to know if I could come see her perform at the football half-time show a few hours earlier on the same day.

Of course I said yes. It didn’t matter that my free Friday night just turned into a definitely-not-free Friday night, or that I had told them I’d be there without consulting Cody (FYI the result would have been the same, it’s just respectful to ask whether he had any expectations for the weekend and compromise from there). When I told Cody that I’d be going to our sweet sophomore’s game and then we’d go to our niece’s game later, Cody just smiled and asked, “How many kids do we have again?”

“How many kids do we have again?”

It was a perfect response to something he could have rolled his eyes at, or begun complaining about (“But it’s a Friday night…”). Instead, he so perfectly summed up why it was important for us to go -of course we’d go show our support on a Friday night because we love the young people in our lives as closely as if they could be our own. It’s what we do.

The half-time show was awesome. The girls’ kick line was really impressive and our sweet sophomore’s smile was enough to warm my heart, even if my fingers were frosting over. When I met Cody at home a little while later, we were able to chit-chat about our work-day and then we left for our niece’s game.

A moment I especially love happened during the basketball game. There was a girl who didn’t look like your “typical” athlete on the opposing team (whatever the hell that even means) – and it was clear to us that she was new to the sport, but it was even clearer that she was super self-conscious. In the defense of her authenticity, you could also tell she tried not to let that tween awkwardness stop her, either. With the game tied at 11, we watched that same young girl score the penultimate point and witnessed the glow-up of the century: the big smile, the high-fives from her teammates, and the fact that, with only 2 minutes remaining in the game, she was leading her team to victory. It was quite a magical moment to see. Cody and I both grinned. With all the goodness behind his voice, he quietly said, “Good for her.” I affirmed, “That girl’s weekend is made.” It was a small moment in our witness, but it was a big one in this human being’s experience. The fact that Cody and I both reacted the same way to this girl’s success tells me all I didn’t realize I needed to feel – that, as future parents, we may not always say the same things, but we’re usually on the same wavelength.

Ultimately, however, in hindsight, what wasn’t said is more important than what was.

Here’s what he never said:
“Why did you bring me here?”
“How long is this going to be?”
“This is painful to watch.”
“She is painful to watch.”
“Poor girl.”

Instead, we focused on the positive. So they’re not that great yet? That’s okay. At least they have a reason to run back and forth. And, sometimes -stupendously- experience such empowering moments that even the sleepy adults in the stands notice. I’m just glad it was my husband who noticed right alongside with me. Pretty cool stuff.

Year 2, Week 14: Prayer and Play

This week was the week of miracles – big and small. And it all stemmed from our decision to first let our knees hit the ground and then permit our feet to leap the concrete.

Two weeks ago, we found out some really sad news that Cody’s beloved Nana received an unfortunate diagnosis of cancer. We heard that the doctor told her it’s very likely the cancer began in the torso and then manifested into a tumor, which was not good to hear. This news suggested that the cancer had spread to areas that would prevent the recovery we’d obviously hope for. Cody was understandably broken up by the news.

So I decided to be recklessly hopeful.

I realized the St. Therese of Lisieux novena would be beginning soon, the memory of a woman who lived by the ideal that one can do ordinary things with extraordinary love. Those she lived with didn’t take her seriously as a young woman in the convent, but Therese did her thing anyway. I guess you can say she was the original enforcer of the “kill them with kindness” rule. When she was diagnosed with tuberculosis, she promised a shower of roses. Let me share why this is significant.

The Society of the Little Flower writes, “Shortly after her death, the rain of roses began. Sometimes roses literally appeared, and sometimes just the fragrance of them. Cures of painful and fatal diseases and many other miraculous experiences were attributed to her intercession. Sometimes people found inner peace and regained an inner warmth of spirit and confidence, by appealing to St. Therese. Many miracles and actions of St. Therese do not involve roses. More often than not, marvelous things happen in people’s lives as they ask for her heavenly intercession. The miracles, healings and inner peace come from the trust one places in God, not from any manifestation of roses…. Roses are Therese’s signature. It is her way of whispering to those who need a sign that she has heard, and God is responding. Thousands of people have given witness to the way Therese responds to their petitions and prayers with grace and roses. The grace is more important than the roses.”

I absolutely agree that the grace is more important than the roses, but the fact that roses were every where during this novena convince me this isn’t a farce. We can argue all day about roses being popular flowers, but each day presented a rose in some form.

The night after I began the novena (around 10pm), I remember looking at my bare rose bush in my backyard and hearing my growing cynical voice whispering, “Well, that’s nice. It’ll blossom by the 9th day of the novena. That’ll be a great coincidence.”

After I had prayed the next morning very specifically for a miraculous Nana healing, I was shocked to open my door into my backyard to see three fully blossomed roses on my rose bush. I knew right away I was being listened to – and my faith grew with the petals. I continued to reach out to my closest soul friends and faithful family and I felt my optimism grow, almost dangerously. If this “miracle” wasn’t going to happen, at least I knew I had thrown myself into it. It’s literally the least I could do, with Nana being so far away and my husband’s long face right next to me.

I kept up the praying on the daily, and each day I saw roses in the most unexpected places. Then, on the last day of the novena, we received wonderful news that Nana’s torso CT is clear! The joy I still feel is more relieving than it is overwhelming. First, for obvious reasons that our prayers did something – they truly made a difference. Second, I desperately needed a reminder that God is real. I know we still have more praying to do, but this experience was enough to help remind me and Cody that God really is listening, regardless of what the majority of the world says. You just have to have a little faith.

That was the big miracle.
Here’s the little one.

Last Thursday, I asked Cody if he wanted to go for a walk with me; the weather is beginning to transition to its all-too-familiar blue-grey hue and I needed to feel like I could still go outside if I felt like it. And I felt like it.

After walking in silence for some time, I turned to Cody and asked if he wanted to run for a little while. He grinned and said he will always choose to run if I want to (despite the super nice dress shoes he had on), so I took off at a light jog. Before long, I realized he wasn’t beside me, or even right behind me, so I turned around to see what the hold-up was. He had disappeared, but I didn’t worry – he’s quite the joker. I half-expected him to be running parallel to me on the other side of the block, so I decided to keep up my jog anyway. I would surprise him.

All of a sudden, I heard jingling keys and pumping arms. I turned back and almost tripped because of the laugh that caught in my throat. He was leaping the concrete paths of people’s front lawns and landing on the cool grass, only to let it propel him farther on. I don’t know why I thought this was the funniest image I had seen in a while; maybe it reminded me of when I would run around my neighborhood and be hundreds of feet in front of my friends, feeling the adrenaline of being free. It didn’t matter that we weren’t really going anywhere – just that we were simply going.

This week, prayer made us a little wiser,
play made us 17 and 21 again,

and I swear it made me love him more.

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Year 2, Week 5: Family Comes First

We should be in Puerto Rico right now. But we’re not. And that’s completely okay with us. Let me explain.

One of my very best friends was gearing up to graduate with her Master’s Degree in July AND simultaneously celebrating her acceptance into a Ph.D. program (for which she weathered many obstacles and worked exceptionally hard). I try to support my friends’ decisions as much as I can and am very vocal in celebrating just about any success they experience. This time was no different. I asked Cody how he would feel about taking the celebration to Puerto Rico, giving my friend the round-trip plane tickets as a gift (for the next 5 Christmases and birthdays, too) for her amazing work. He agreed!

So we bought the tickets, gave her the news, and were really excited for the prospect of scuba diving along the shores of PR and finding days that he’d be able to work remotely while still enjoying our time there. That fun stopped to a grinding halt, however, when I read on the news that Zika was in Puerto Rico and great care should be taken while traveling there.

Cody and I want to be parents one day. We believe we can be good parents who raise good people. So to read that Zika – a virus that could severely harm my baby – was alive and well in PR, there was hardly any discussion as to whether we should still fly to our planned destination. I would regret it so much if anything happened as a result of our travels there. We made a decision as parents, already, that we would take every precaution to protect our baby. We canceled the plane tickets and gave my friend (who took the canceled trip with extraordinary grace and understanding that I will always remember, admire, and respect) the reasons for the cancelation.

After beating myself up for a little while for not planning better before I got everyone’s hopes up, I decided to channel that energy into planning a trip to Arkansas instead (I told you in last week’s that it was going to be time to visit soon – life just made it happen a little sooner).

I am so grateful that we rode the wave instead of getting mad at the choppy waters. My friend was a wonderful example of grace, and I truly believe her selfless support of my decision for my future babies has cemented our friendship for posterity. Cody’s quick agreement made it easier on me, too.

We saw the choice in front of us: go to Puerto Rico, or not. We chose that the health of our family is way more important a trip we have been saving up for. We chose to use that time to visit our family in Arkansas, who we were were going to visit anyway, but decided it was smarter to do it sooner (especially since Cody’s grandpa had emergency heart surgery last week! We got to visit him and have a really nice time together.)

Instead of getting mad that life wasn’t going exactly according to plan, we chose to enjoy the ride anyway. In this case, the choice was very clear: Family always always always comes first.

You can't prepare for the gusts of wind, but you can choose whether you'll grumble or laugh. You can see which we prefer. — You can’t prepare for the gusts of wind, but you can choose whether you’ll grumble or laugh. You can see which we prefer.

Year 2, Week 4: He shows up

We were about a year into our relationship, and I knew Cody would be flying in for our once-every-three-months visit while I was still at work (playing the piano at church). I asked him if he wouldn’t mind taking the bus from the airport to the church so that I could give him a big hug the moment Mass was over instead of him waiting at the airport and waiting for me to come get him. I also secretly wanted him to be part of something that made me happy; he had never heard me perform in “that” capacity before (leading ~100 people in song) so I was really excited and nervous to have him kind of just walk in while I was doing something I loved.

I wanted two things from his presence: to get a glimpse at why this was an important part of my life and to share the experience with him.

In equation form, this looked like:

Doing something that made me happy
+
sharing what made me happy with someone who made me happy
=
happy happy joy joy

Let’s fast-forward about six years from that day to February 2016.

If you want the long version, keep reading! (if you want the short version, just find the bolded phrase below): My colleague encouraged me to think about participating in an improv class during the summer. He outlined the differences between short-form improv, long-form improv, stand-up comedy, and the price tag differences on the various theaters around the city (ComedySportz, Second City, Improv Olympics, etc.) In the end, I chose ComedySportz, since they pride themselves on performing shows that are for the whole family – and they specialize in short-form improv (short, spit-fire games run competition-style between two three-person teams that keep the show moving along really nicely). Unfortunately, however, even the least expensive camp was pretty expensive.

Cody and I (try to) run on a tight budget so that we experience more cool things instead of buying more things. I wasn’t sure if my financial partner would be cool with me spending the equivalent of one month’s food budget for an improv comedy class that lasted only one week.

So here’s the SHORT form of the story (Haha, get it? No? You shouldn’t have been lazy then.)

I was encouraged to take an improv class this summer. It sounded like fun.
I told Cody I’d like to take an improv class. I don’t think he took me seriously.
I looked up the ComedySportz summer class information. I told Cody about it. I think he started to take me seriously now.
“Hey Cody, you know how you took an online course that cost a few hundred dollars? Well, this improv class is something like it.” I think I saw his hand reach in protective instinct for his wallet.
I went on a school-sponsored trip to Browning, Montana the same day early-bird registration ended. I didn’t have a chance before we left to discuss how my choice to attend this class would affect our financial goals and I couldn’t reach Cody while in Montana, so I neglected to register for the class. I was going to miss the deadline and I slowly allowed myself to realize that this class might not work out after all. All these realizations made me sad.
A couple days later, a text message from Cody appeared (Whoa! Service in Browning, MT? Yay!): “Alright! You’re all signed up for the improv class!”
Ridiculous smiling and slight shock ensued. This wasn’t part of the plan, but he did it anyway. He’s a good husband.
Class was attended! I became a little funnier. I believe I’ll be an even better English teacher now that I know games that disguise learning.
Teacher of class tells me there’s a show I get to be in?! Amazing! Show time is set for 5pm on Saturday.
How are all the people I know all busy on the day I most want them there? Whattabummer.
Cody’s capture of the show’s beginning. Here’s me pointing at all the people who weren’t able to make it but were cheering me on from a distance <3.
Hey! My brother and sister-in-law came! My old roommate and his brother came! And, duh, Cody is here.

Cody always shows up. He has shown his support for things that make me happy for as long as I can remember. How is this just hitting me now?

So – for a final review:

If it’s important to you and he makes you happy..
then the one who shows up should be the one you marry.