Real

“Real isn't how you are made. It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real...It doesn't happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

I felt pretty Real yesterday. In the Velveteen Rabbit sense of the word- very shabby. I have been feeling so much better this trimester, but yesterday was a fatigued, body-pained, hurts-to-exist kind of day. When the dishes were finally done and I could get ready for bed, I was in a sour frame of mind. I even felt a bit bewildered that Jake would want to cuddle as we fell asleep. Have you seen my wreck of a body recently, dear husband? I know you have. Did you notice the pained expression on my face as I move about today? I think you did. Have you felt the sting of my poor mood this evening?

So, this morning, as I attempted some self-care for my aches and pains, I reflected a bit on becoming Real. Neither of my housemates- husband and daughter- mind at all that I wore mismatching sweats to the park yesterday afternoon. Neither probably even noticed. Neither of them would think for a second that I've become ugly at 31 weeks tired/pregnant. My eyes may drop out and I am certainly loose in the joints. And it does not matter at all. How lucky am I? So very lucky. As some would say, #blessed.

I am grateful, ever grateful, for the softening of my edges.

Photo from a recent family hike. Those two, I tell 'ya. 

cherish

I peaked into Alice's bedroom on Sunday morning: Jake's tall frame was sprawled across the floor, perched up on his left elbow, gazing intently through crib rails at Alice's sound asleep face. He looked up at me as I tiptoed to his side and he whispered "she's so big." He almost seemed emotional, realizing that our little baby, our first born, nearly fills her crib. She used to look especially tiny when sleeping, curled up and swaddled. Now, sleep reveals the full length of our toddler; the solid, healthy frame of a child who can walk and run and climb. Our baby, who hasn't been a baby for a while.

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"Mama" and "Dada" have taken their rightful place in Alice's petite vocabulary, but the latter seems a precious secret she can't quite exclaim. It is only whispered, "Dada, Dada," when looking at Jake from a distance. Other words and phrases have slipped out too. We walked the back yard a few evenings ago, checking in on Alice's pear trees, bought for her birthday by Dada himself. I always honestly declare "good job pear trees!" They are doing quite well- far outpacing our apple trees planted years prior. This week, without missing a beat, Alice quietly mimicked "good job," while patting a pear tree leaf. We went into the basement so she could tell Dada good job while he worked, but then she would only whisper his name, seeming too shy to verbally commend his efforts.

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Jake was in Alice's room before she woke up on Sunday because we had to get out the door for the annual Walk for Hospice. It was our second year manning the coffee area, which is a nice job to have on a cool, early, Fall morning. People are glad to see a table full of steaming coffee carafes and happy babies/toddlers make people smile too. I wore Alice in the Ergo and Jake made sure there was always milk and creamer on hand. A tall man, in his 60's?, caught my eye from across the field. He was clad in a safari hat, a brightly colored bow tie, and a wide smile. After the walk he wandered to our station and we got to talking about his spouse, who passed away 9 years ago. We talked about why he walks and his hopes to have a crowd gathered for his 10th walk next year. He noted Alice's runny nose and offered her sunscreen. Then, he said he wanted to leave me with something: "true love is cherishing the things you wouldn't have chosen." We both got teary and I nodded. He walked away.

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In every worth-it relationship, there are easy things to cherish. Jake is a beautiful father. Alice is a dreamy daughter. I like to think I'm not terrible to live with either. Yet, as soon as Ed left me with that axiom on Sunday, my mind was flooded with the harder things, the less savory realities, that are present in any worth-it relationship too. For a moment, I felt guilty for the times of resentment, anger, selfishness that I have possessed in our time as a family. I know there have been many. I know there will be more. Here is to one more reminder to focus on the things that unite us, not those that divide. And here is to even cherishing the things that drive us crazy or we just don't understand. Because we will miss them, you know? We will miss them so desperately.

36

My parents don't have a perfect marriage. I can recall hearing them argue during my childhood; "we're not arguing, we're discussing," as my mom would say. They are both imperfect people. They both make mistakes and apologize. I can just as easily recall those apology-moments from childhood too. Here's the point: my parents have never had a perfect marriage, but I also never, not even for a breath, questioned their love for each other. Their commitment.

My parents taught me how to clean my ears and set a table. They taught me persistence and a strong work ethic. They taught me lots of things. Through their relationship, they taught me that marriage is hard and that it is worth it. It is because of my parents that I believe in marriage. It is because of their commitment that I know you can come out the other side of a difficult time and have your heart once again skip a beat at the sight of your spouse.

I love Steve and Linda so darn much. If I met them at a party I'd want to hang out with them. Thankfully we've already been introduced. Happy [belated] 36th anniversary to my favorite duo.

If I wasn't tan, I'd think it was all a dream.

There is a winter wonderland outside and more snow on its way in the next hour or so. Our home construction is still in progress- rolls of insulation in the living room, paint trays and assorted tools clutter the kitchen, the dining room boxed and stored in our bedroom, drop cloth hanging to keep construction dust relatively in its place. It is all how we left it, even down to the single dirty glass in the kitchen sink. Kind neighbors and family members shoveled our driveway while we were gone and our dogs had a go at living with an infant, staying with friends who have a 6 month old. The pile of junk mail is a bit more substantial than usual too. Otherwise though, the last week past as a dream. I woke up this morning, in dull winter daylight, chilled, turning on a space heater, and was surprised to see my sun-kissed face in the mirror. Evidence! Vitamin D and non-alcoholic piña coladas! It did happen!

Returning to Saint Martin was a thoroughly wonderful idea on Jake's part. It was familiar, while still exotic and utterly special. All the romance of our honeymoon, with the excitement of a whole new adventure.

Our first jaunt in the French West Indies was full of dreaming about married life- goals for our first year, gushing and smooching and starry eyed. We still had a bit of that twinkling imbued atmosphere about us this time, but with the added bonus of some actual marriage under our belts. Marriage is hard. It can be lonely and upending. With that in mind, we talked about new goals, different kinds of strivings we have for this commitment to each other. We celebrated our marriage, successes and failures and all, and we looked ahead, not just for the sake of the bébé coming in a couple months.

Being married has made us both better people. We know ourselves more honestly and love each other more deeply. I cannot imagine how becoming parents will terrify and amaze us- oh the things we have yet to learn!- but, I do know that the most wonderful consolation of no longer being pregnant, losing this intimate physical connection with our tiny one, will be to see our baby in Jake's arms. I am already overwhelmed with love at the imaging of it. 

honesty

I'm going to get really honest for a second: year two has been harder than year one.

Our first year of marriage was bliss. Though hectic, we were able to support each other in new ways and love this new process of making a home together. We're a 1/4 into year two of marriage and, for mostly reasons of *communication,* it's been more complicated. Arguments have taken longer to resolve. I've found ugliness inside I didn't know was there- selfishness, pride, that I didn't know was hidden in those crevices. There have been some really hard conversations.

Neither of us expected marriage to be easy or second nature. We knew this was going to take committed work- which is why we got married! Our first, blissful year set us up for a shock at year two though. The transition has been really, quite sad at points.

But, lately, I feel as if we may have come out of the transition a bit. Jake has tried to remind me what being silly together looks like. We've fallen asleep holding hands, curled up tight, holding to what means so absolutely much to us. I got home the other night and Jake was gleefully making tacos for dinner- which, I'm hoping, will become a thing (delicious!). We sat down and had.dinner.together.

Between all our plans and responsibilities- I am embarrassed to say- we hardly ever have time to share a meal together. Man oh man, in the midst of that taco dinner I felt like we were back in year one and this summer had been a bad dream. Best.tacos.ever.

Dallas wasn't as happy about taco dinner. She was mostly jealous and bitter.

I guess I write this in case someone who reads it thinks marriage is easy and simple and constant bliss. It can be for long stretches of time, sure. But marriage always takes work and forgiveness. And, my god, it is worth the harder stretches to come out at connected points like taco dinner.

this is the best ever

sleepy love

When I finally snuggled in next to my husband late last night, he was deep in a cozy sleep. So I wouldn't wake him, I whispered "I love you" in the slightest tone. Out of a dream world came a loud "I LOVE YOU TOO," and a deep smiling sigh. Precious, precious, precious.

9 Month-i-versary!

Nine months ago today, I walked down a long, grassy hill with my Mom and Dad. I asked them how this had happened- how did we get here already? Tears filled our eyes as we walked in step and treasured these last moments before they gave me away.

I didn't expect walking down a hill-turned-isle to be one of the most important moments of our wedding day. I hadn't really thought about how I would feel in that series of moments. But I am so grateful that the isle was long, and that I have the parents I do. I'm so thankful that they walked me to the place in my life of marrying Jake nine months ago, and that even though they gave me away, they still walk so significantly with me.

And as to the man I was walking towards- I love him more and more. I love talking in bed with morning breath, and laughing over a pile of laundry taller than my bureau. I love dreaming our big dreams and talking our big talks, and I love our little looks and giggles too. He knows my ugliness and loves me in spite of it. He is my favorite.

Here's to another 9 [million] months of family and marriage and love. Happy Monday.

what I've learned

As of yesterday, we've been married for six months. 6 months! Here's what I've learned so far:

THE LITTLE THINGS MATTER: Jake doesn't like it when the toilet lid is dropped down carelessly. He highly prefers it to be placed gently down with great care to ensure a silent lid drop. When this doesn't occur, he threatens retaliation with leaving the seat up. I'm working on it.

WE'LL CHANGE TOGETHER: It only took 6 months to undo 6 years of vegetarianism. I now prefer steak to a salad, or at least steak on my salad. Jake couldn't be happier, and we're both- I'll admit- healthier for it. I wasn't very good at being a vegetarian anyway. Change is good when we're in it together.

THERE'S A LEARNING CURVE: Splitting holidays is hard. Thanksgiving felt weird. Leaving my family half way through Christmas day was so-so-so painful for me. We'll get better at this whole sharing each other thing; this whole splitting our time thing. We already have a better plan for next December.

Happy 6-Month-iversary to the man of my dreams, who loves me in my sloppiest of moments and is willing to learn with me. 

a perfect date

"You look fabulous. You look like a doll. I have such a beautiful wife."

That's what Jake said when he saw me all dolled up for our date last night. He didn't look too shabby himself, wearing the gray dress pants that make his butt look especially cute. My husband has a cute butt, I can't deny it. For my birthday, Jake gave me tickets to see The Nutcracker performed by The Boston Ballet at the Boston Opera House, on our one year engage-iversary. Holiday spirit, ballet and an occasion? All makings for quite an evening.

We started the evening at Gaslight Brasserie. Since we spent our honeymoon in a French colonized country, French food immediately spells romantic, reminding us of such a special time together. Gaslight did not fail us either- from the escargot to the maple bread pudding, it was all absolutely mouth-watering. Our server even gave us complimentary champagne- I love champagne!- in honor of our engage-iversary. Gaslight also has free parking and our server called us a taxi so we could keep our car there all evening. There's something about taxi rides that make me feel special. I always walk or take a subway, so a taxi ride feels like such a splurge. Am I alone on this?

At the Boston Opera House, everything was decked out for Christmas. There was even a pianist in the grand lobby, and the bartenders often chimed in to sing along with the carols played. Jake bought me a cd of the Boston Ballet Orchestra and another glass of champagne. I received compliments galore on my beautiful vintage dress- bought with a gift from the cast of Christmas Carol. One woman said she loved it, and then minutes later exclaimed "that is my FAVORITE dress!"

And as if that all isn't enough- a handsome, cute-butted husband, French food, a taxi ride, dress compliments- then there was BALLET. I swoon. I love ballet. The Nutcracker is so magical and childlike- falling snow, a giant dancing teddy bear, little dancing sheep, flying in a hot air balloon. Then there are moments of sheer awe at the beauty and control of certain dancers. Jake loved how so many of them just seem to fly across the floor, and through the air. Gorgeous.

All that, and we were home by 10:30. It was a perfect date.

the sun shines

I was going through wedding photos- there are so many and they're so full of people we love and a day we love thinking about. My gosh, looking at them fills me up. Also, today happens to be our 5 Month-iversary. All of this reminded me of this scene from Juno:

JUNO

I need to know that its possible that 2 people can stay happy together forever.

DAD

Well its not easy, thats for sure….Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. The right persons still gonna think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kinda person thats worth sticking with.

JUNO

Yeah. I think I've found that person.

me too Juno

little ol' wifey

I'm not a proper wifey. I try sometimes. More often I embrace our relationship for all the silly, perfect ways it works though, because I'm blessed to not be married to a proper husband either. Oh sure, he works with his hands and is handy as all get out. He literally walked in the door last night with a wet paint brush and immediately began touching up door frames. But he also does all these typically "wife" duties:

• He likes vacuuming. He's the one who brought a vacuum into our married life- no need to add that to the registry. He doesn't just have any old vacuum either. His is green and he uses all the attachments for their appropriate purposes. I'm not exaggerating. 
• He likes doing laundry, because he likes his shirts folded a certain way.
• He cleans our bathroom more often than I do.
• When Jake makes dinner there are crockpots and fresh made bread involved. When I make dinner- like last night- it involves left over quinoa, a can of beans, and a microwave. I'm a rice&beans, beans&quinoa, beans&couscous kind of girl. What can I say? 

Yup. And you know what? I don't mind taking out the trash, scooping the cat's litter box, and remembering to write the rent check. So, even though I sometimes feel as if I'm shirking some of this whole "wife" thing- like when painter-handy-muscleman husband gets home and all I have to offer for dinner is reheated quinoa&beans- then I remember that he and I said "I do" for a whole lot more than fulfilling gender roles. We're a team, goshdarnit, and teams fill in wherever they're needed.

dinner with the fam

As we left dinner with my family last night, Jake said "you have a great family...well, we have a great family." That's true-WE have a great family! Ah-hah! My family is Jake's family! It's funny, this marriage thing. It's still sinking in, with all it's many levels. 

Steve and Linnie, my delightful parents, drove up for an impromptu visit. Connecticut was hit pretty hard by mean Irene this weekend, and they needed an escape. I had to work late and speaking at a campaign event got me all wound up, so it was perfect to be able to drive just a few blocks and have dinner with the folks, my sister, and the precious niece and nephew.  

Dinner through Katie's 3-year old eyes:

"Now I will take a picture of the sky. Now I will take a picture of my plate. Now I will take a picture of Auntie..."

And a little bit through my own eyes too:

the book-by-its-cover and all that

We have these perceptions of ourselves. They affect how we live our lives. And then there's this perception others have of us. Those affect how we live our lives too. And then, finally, there exists a gap between those perceptions. This subconscious misunderstanding between us and everyone else.

Maybe that's what marriage is? Narrowing that gap between the perceptions. Chiseling down that misunderstanding. Its hard work, that's for darn sure. Because, heck, we don't even realize the perceptions we have. The assumptions we make...of ourselves and others.

We were interviewing a potential production staff member yesterday. We asked how she deals with conflict and confrontation. She said that people don't expect it, but she's quite confrontational- "I just like everyone to be on the same page." Me too. Good answer. Then conversation turned to introspection. My co-worker (that lovely red polka-dotted dress wearer) said she understood the feeling of people not expecting what she actually is. She said people always expected her to be bold and confrontational, but she could hardly speak in public places until college- she was extremely shy, home-schooled and terrified of strangers. Huh. Well, there it is. Perception gaps. The book-by-its-cover and all that. The kicker is that we even perceive ourselves on a bias. Neither perception is spot-on! There's always the need to be seeking- searching for the truth of who we are and where our hearts lie.

Would you expect me to have done this?

not recently, of course. these pictures are circa 2007

a love story

Saw this over at A Cup of Jo. My goodness, I wept. 

Its a true love story of a Brooklyn couple, separated after 27 years by a terminal illness.

Danny & Annie from StoryCorps on Vimeo.


"I don't [want to] come to terms with dying here. I want to come to terms with being sure that you understand that my love for you up to this point was as much as it could be, and will be as much as it can be for eternity. I always said the only thing I have to give you is a poor gift, and it's myself. And I always gave it. And if there's a way to come back and give it, I'll do that too."

marriage teaches you things

Somehow, being married has made me more aware of potential loss. I feel it more poignantly- I make sure to kiss husband as many times as he'll allow before one of us walks out the door. I relish moments cuddled in bed together, and fear taking them for granted. And when we argue- because it does happen- at some point we both just want more to forgive than to be right. When we are mad at each other, it feels like we're wasting time. 

At a wedding this summer, the pastor preached the need for forgiveness in marriage. He asserted that, more than lovey-dovey romance, marriage depends on forgiveness. It depends on knowing, in the midst of egos and opinions, that you will always forgive. 

We know that. That's what we're committed to. That's why staying mad feels like we're wasting time. Instead of staying curled up on the love seat, emanating anything but love, I need to swallow my self-conscious pride and hug it out with my husband. Too much grace has covered me for me to act otherwise. 

And hugging it out is so freaking wonderful.