Slap the stupid out of me.

Dear Readers:
I’m mad. I mean, REALLY MAD. In fact-I’m going to use a phrase I never use. I’m spit-fire MAD. And here’s why:

We, as crazy, wordy humans, say a lot of things. Extreme things: never, always, I’ll just die.

Ambiguous things: I dunno, maybe, kinda, yep.

Things to each other that we don’t honor: I will love you forever, I could never be mad at you.

And we text and email and IM all these words back and forth to each other. And before you know it, we mix the most sacred of words with the most mundane of all conversations.

I love you.
I love those shoes.

Forever, I’m yours.
I haven’t seen you, in like, forever.

I will marry you.
This sandwich married together perfectly the spicy mustard with the pastrami. 

Which leads us into devaluing what we say and what we’ve commit to.

Be mine, for all time.
He used to be mine. 

Till death do us part.
I was going to kill him if we had to stay together.

He makes me so happy.
We weren’t happy anymore.  

I’m an observer. I enjoy watching as marriages, relationships and friendships begin.
The first time a conversation is sparked leaves each party feeling elated and renewed. Weeks later, there is still so much to learn about that person and neither one could imagine life without the other. Your old friends think that you’re ignoring them, and to be perfectly honest-you don’t care.
Months roll on by and that person is maybe less of a priority, but still high on the list. You quit planning your entire day around them and start to schedule them in.
Years roll by and you find yourself either without the relationship intact any longer, or it’s down on the totem pole of priority. After all, you’ve got to live your life.

Which leads me to asking, “What happened?” Why is the “spark” out? Why does that once intriguing friend now bore you? Why is the person you just couldn’t get enough of, now-get on your every last nerve?

We are a finicky race, us humans. We allow our minds, our thoughts, our eyes to wander when something prettier, newer, skinnier, less complicated comes along.
A decent car now looks like a jalopy when parked next to that brand new, never driven Mercedes.
A nice laptop suddenly pales in comparison to that fancy new one at the Apple Store.
When you visit your boss’ house, your house suddenly seems small, out of date and embarrassing.

And your husband becomes commonplace and unappealing as you read “50 Shades of Gray” (for the record, I have never read this book-but I’ve heard enough talk about it to know what is up, ladies).

The socks left by him at the foot of the bed-for days-start to get under your skin. I mean, can’t he put those in the basket?!
The little tiny hairs from him shaving and not properly rinsing out the sink grate on your nerves. I just cleaned that!
He chooses just the most inopportune time to become amorous. I just ate pasta. Really?!

And then, along comes this guy. And he’s perfect. And interesting. And funny.
And he smells great and opens the door for you and he knows just what questions to ask and when to ask them and he moves the hair off your face and tucks it behind your ear just right and he thinks you’re awesome and, and, and…
And his socks would never bother you and he never farts and you know he’s a clean freak, just like you, and, and, and…

So you entertain the thought of him. And you open up your facebook and you “friend” him. And you start to message him. And you keep it from your husband.

And suddenly, your “forever” is more like, “when it’s convenient and it still makes me happy.” Before long, your “forever” is over. And that is what is making me spit-fire MAD.

And you look back on it and wonder when it started to go all wrong. It went wrong way before dating and marriage and facebook. It went wrong the first time you compared what you had to what someone else had-and you were ungrateful.

I’ve done it. My scratched up, 280,00 mile van is embarrassing surrounded by brand new Lexus’, Mercedes and BMW’s in the parking lot of where I occasionally work. My clothes have holes in them. I dress vintage because it’s cute, but mainly due to lack of advertising funds. You better believe I’m comparing my TJ Maxx purse to that women’s $1,500 Prada bag. I’m finicky. I compare and judge and evaluate.

And, I’m ungrateful.

And that is what makes me MAD. So, when you see me do it-slap me. Slap the stupid right out of me. Remind me that I’m being ungrateful and its a slippery slope from cars to clothes to shoes to husbands.

I believe love is forever and it is most certainly worth fighting for. I believe the “till death do us part”. I believe in what I said at the altar, what God has said about marriage and I want to be grateful-every day-for that. So, dear readers: you have my permission to slap me and get all spit-fire MAD at me if I start to slip.

Hold me to it.

10 Fun and Frugal Date Ideas

Biceps and I love to date each other-and have been for the last twelve and a half years. However, the typical dinner and a movie can get pricey-and monotonous. So, we like to look for inexpensive and spicey ways to still enjoy each other’s company, while staying on a focused budget.

Maybe you and your mate are in the same boat-or would like to be. Here are 10 Fun Frugal Date Ideas for you to build on!

1. Design another world for someone you love!
Pull out old boxes, packing tape and a pair of scissors. Together, design what your new world will be for your wee one (pet or child). Get creative and add hanging strings for kitties to swipe at, a ball for a dog to chase around or use markers to decorate the interior of the box for the humans in your life. It’s a whole new world, baby.

2. Enjoy a sunrise or sunset together.
Depending upon your mate’s aversion or diversion to the time of day, brew a pot of coffee and catch the sun as its rising or setting. Be still together. Soak in the colors and make cloud animals with your brains.

3. Make a tent in your living room.
This. just. happened. For our anniversary, we grabbed all the sheets, safety pins, clothes pins, chip clips and old rope we had and created an indoor tent. It’s a fun way to figure out how to work together, how to design your tent, and most importantly-what snacks will be inside of the tent. Build your tent over your tv and enjoy your favorite show or movie together while perched on pillows and blankets.

4. Hold a contest.
Challenge each other to find the most absurd signs that you can while out on a drive…

(4, Cont)…or in a store. It’s not hard to find human weirdness displayed in sign form. Snap a picture with your phone and let an unbiased third party be the judge.

5. Look through family photos.
Sounds a little boring, but in reality it’s not. Pull out that old bin of family photos and start telling each other stories (real or fanciful) about the people in them. You can make this a double date, of sorts, with other family members who enjoy the art of story telling.

6. Grab a $1 slice or pizza and head to the park.
Pack a few extras from home to round out dinner. Perch on a pretty spot and enjoy your simple picnic. Sunset is the best time of the day to enjoy this date. Uber romantic.

7. Have an indoor picnic.
Still too cold outside to enjoy an outdoor picnic? Pack up fruit, cheese and whatever else you have on hand and hang out in the living room-or some other room you don’t frequent. (Sometimes my favorite spot is the guest bedroom). Throw a blanket on the ground and enjoy your “picnic”.

8. Go camping.
Hate bugs? Hate waking up cold? Hate brewing your coffee in the shower house because that’s the only outlet? Well, too bad. Deal with it. Camping can bring a couple together if you go into it with an adventurous spirit. Take a hike together, see who can toss sticks the furthest, climb a tree, sit on a rock. Just BE together and quit complaining.

9. Dress up and photograph yourselves.
Make a costume out of whatever you have on hand-sheets are great capes, colanders are great hats, wooden spoons are perfect scepters, grannies old dress is hilarious on the manly spouse. You get the idea. Then, set up a tripod and photograph yourselves in various poses. Trust me, this is fun. Why do you think we do it every year with our Christmas Cards?

10. Sit on the back porch together.
Light a fire, snuggle down and be still together. No phones, no computer-just the two of you. Enjoy.

I’d love to hear any date ideas you may have. Comment below, please!

A letter from a childless wife.

We weren’t waiting to have children because of an insatiable desire to pursue our careers or because we don’t like kids–as we’ve been accused of. I’ve heard the conversations behind our backs (and sometimes to our faces) surmising that we must be selfish and too rigid. I’ve heard the philosophy that we should have children in order to become “better people”.

I’ve also been given the insightful information that childbearing is not only what makes me a “real woman”, but more importantly, that it’s my Godly duty. And, my favorite is the “concerned” person who warned me that having children after 35 greatly increases the chances of the child being mentally or physically handicapped. As if this would be a horrible consequence to us waiting.

The simple fact is–we wanted to wait until we couldn’t wait any more. This was how we approached our marriage. And since this would be another life long decision–not just something cute to hold for a moment–we waited. We thought we might be ready by our fourth or fifth year into marriage. But soon, our sixth, seventh and then tenth anniversary passed us by and we were still childless. And we were fine with it.

However, about the eleventh year, I observed that we started noticing kids. It began in small ways. One of us would comment on how tiny baby shoes were-something that never mattered before. Or, my husband would point out the cute fuzzy hair on our nephew. The emotions began to creep in and the desire was planted.

We wanted and we were ready to have our family.

But, along with our desire came our hesitation. We loved our spontaneous weekend get-aways without worrying about a sitter. We loved biking through the city with no real plan or a diaper bag. As a compromise to a specific plan, we went without charting or taking temperatures, and decided to try–without trying. Every month that rolled around was a game of roulette. And we lost every time.

I took solace as I watched frazzled mothers yelling at their children at church, in the mall, and at the gas station. I skipped on by, coffee in hand, with no spit-up on my shirt and no poop smell in my car. The war stories from parents were abundant and gladly told over and over. They wore them on their sleeves like badges of honor. The same parents–chastising me for being childless–were the ones with marriages in a state of arrested development, the ones where the children were controlling everything and with absolute, total chaos in their lives.

Even so, I wanted a baby with my husband. I wanted to see a boy that looked like him, that acted like him, that admired his father. I wanted a little girl that would paint her nails, that would bake cookies with me, that would become my best friend–like I am with my mother.

And when this realization hit that I sincerely wanted a baby, the scarring in my life began. The awkward questions that I used to let roll off my back, no longer rolled. They stuck. And they hurt.

“Well, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to have kids?”. Without knowing what is wrong–if there is anything really wrong–my answer is simply, “God hasn’t blessed us with a baby–yet.”

I watch as they shift their child from one hip to the other, looking me over, trying to figure out if it’s my lack of faith, lack of body fat or something somewhere in between that’s causing me to not become pregnant, and I beg my tears to recede to their proper holding cell. Because, after all–I’m broken and I need to be fixed. By them.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have waited so long,” they say. This stings more than all the others, because it’s the one that percolates in the back of my mind. “You can always adopt,” is their next statement.

I thank them for their helpful comments and walk away, knowing I’m going home to a house that’s empty and void of onesies, toys and stuffed animals. My house is clean and everything is just where I left it. And, if I want to have a cup of coffee on the back porch while it’s raining, I can. But the rain only amplifies what I already know.

I feel broken and the questions continue to pound away at my resolve to be positive and to be at peace. Those questions mutilate me. My tears are at the ready, my emotions are at the breaking point. And this is where I am today.

I am writing this to all women that have felt this pain. And for the ones that seem to get pregnant “if their husband’s just look at them”, please, understand why I can only offer you my half smile. I am so thrilled for you, truthfully. But, it’s so hard to muster up joy for your new season when the joy seems to be gone in my season–and when I’m left in this holding pattern.

I know that God has a plan for me–I am not distraught–I have hope. I am just wounded and hurting. The questions, the helpful suggestions and opinions you have of me bruise me more than you know.

Signed-
A Childless Wife

One, Big Happy Family-the Power of Prayer

See this happy family? See that cool girl in red, wearing her big brother’s jacket because she was freezing to death but insisted on wearing that red dress no matter what? The girl with the immovable, poofy bangs protruding from her forehead? Yep, that’s me.

(Usually we were a much happier group. I think the cold froze our smiles off. Or it’s more likely we just sat through one of the most boring sermons at my Grandma’s church and were starving, tired and cold.)

Anywho-when I was about this age, while I sat in youth group one Wednesday night, sporting my sweet Guess jeans and a bright pink Guess T-shirt, my youth pastor told all of us to begin praying for our future spouses NOW.

And so, being the rule follower that I was, I did. I started off asking God for a hot guy. Then, I added to that a Godly guy. Before long, my list had grown to 42 things that I wanted in my man.

And ladies, this was what I was praying for all those years, unbeknownst to me. (If you ever had any doubt about the power of prayer-this is some smoking hot evidence that prayer really works.)

Here are a few things from the Spousal Prayer list of an 11 year old:

1. Brown hair, blue eyes and good-looking
2. Can skateboard (what?!)
3. Looks good at the beach
4. Likes to exercise
5. Hot body
6. Has ridden a bull
7. Encourages me to be me
8. Loves God, loves his family, loves my family and his family loves me
9. Wants kids
10. Likes cats
11. Is a musician, can play an instrument, likes to sing
12. Is a virgin
13. Raised in a Godly home

(It seems the “body portion” was very important to me at that age. Oh wait, it’s still important now.)

There were 42 things total and this man fulfilled my list-and then some. God is so good to a weird little girl and her 11 year-old dreams.

But, let’s take a look at #8 and #13 in particular.

At one point in my life, I dealt with a boyfriend whose family didn’t like me. It was awkward and awful. However, when I met Biceps’ family, they were easy to be around and instantly gave me a nickname-“peel-eater” (for eating the peels on my sweet potatoes-genius, I know).

The “mother-in-law syndrome”-that I thought was inevitable in a marriage-was nowhere to be found between us.

This beautiful woman (on the left) raised her children with God’s wisdom, honors her husband and honors the Lord with her life. Without her knowing it, she answered my prayers-particulary #8 and #13. And I love her for that-and for so much more.

Today is her birthday and I wish I could be there to celebrate with her. Instead, I will say a prayer of thanks that I married into such a wonderful family. And another prayer of thanks for the hot man God blessed me with.

Happy Birthday, Connie. You are an amazing woman of God. And by the way, great job at pro-creating. You made a good one-a real good one (see #1, 3, 4, 5).