being married, personal reflection, and family

you are born one day and are like,
oh, hello people that made me a home to live in
and share your food with me
and listen to me cry
and share midnight laughs with me about bats being trapped in the bathroom
cool, this is my family.

And then you do that for a really long time (18 years give or take) and it's sort of like okay,
these are my people
and they get me
and I love and hate them at the same time
and its awesome.

I am lucky in that I have a truly amazing family (as does my husband) and although there are moments when we all feel like wringing a family member's neck - at the end of the day, these are the people that would go down swinging for me.  no questions asked.  These are the people whose name I hear and a little flame in my heart strikes up and whispers, 'mine.'

2007

and then marriage is sort of like saying,
hey you - over there - random person that I really like.
How 'bout we both leave our families
(that we've known and been loving and making memories with for our whole lives)
and, ya know, just make up our own family together?
because that's how much I like you.

That's something I really love about marriage- that it's the conscious decision that you like being around someone enough that you want are choosing to create a brand new family (love/hate, go down swinging, 'mine' thing) with some random person out there in the world.  Like out of every person on the planet that I really don't have to care about at all - I really freaking care about you.  Let's get together for forever and make something new, like say, a family.

When B &I laugh at the same time in public at some obscure inside joke, when we have parties where my mum and mum-in-law are sitting together laughing with their grandkids on their laps, or I see our kids' faces light up at the sight of us, or when the kids giggle or share together or even when they egg each other into naughty, sneaky behavior, I think - we made that.  We made a family (love/hate, go down swinging, 'mine' thing) where there was none before.

Brandon and I have been married for five years and together for nearly fourteen.  We really freaking like each other.  But that doesn't mean that marriage isn't hard.  That we don't fight or disagree or need to find patience with each other's quirks and differences daily.

Brandon and I are both very, very different from each other - which is probably why we work so well, but can also lead to some disagreements that can feel like an impasse.  And an impasse, a happy family does not make.  (fyi: i had to look up correct yoda grammar)

Besides being different in lots of things, we also have different love languages (him: physical touch, me: quality time) which tends to leave each of us feeling neglected occasionally during busy weeks.  In the heat of an argument, it's really hard to see any other perspective than your own (is this for everyone or just us?) so we have found it helpful to step away from speaking and write it out separately before coming together to talk about what we wrote.

Recently, we did an exercise to get down our feelings and also think reflectively on how we could each try differently/better/more effectively at making sure the other feels loved.  We each had time to fill out a chart labeled with:

Ways I show you Love  (purpose:  Look!  I do love you and here's my proof...the everyday variety)
Ways I feel Love (purpose:  And actually, when I really think about it, you are giving me love that I sometimes take for granted because its the everyday variety - shame on me)
Ways to show Love to improve (purpose:  I know there are things that I can do better to show you my love that I am not doing because we are so busy or tired or just plain lazy, I'm sorry.  Taking note, now.)
Ways I'd like to feel Love (purpose:  here are exact examples of how you can make me feel loved in the near future)

We don't have this displayed anywhere in our house or anything, but it was helpful to each have our own time to reflect and 'speak' our peace without the other's personal argument blinders up.

One of my improvements in the list was that I need to try harder to be visibly excited when B gets home from work.  I (shamefully) am normally so tired at that point of the day that I toss him a quick, 'hey, how was your day' while trying to peel children off of me and reattach to him for a moment of freaking peace.  I want to try harder to stop what I'm doing, take note of what it sounds like when he walks in the door, and relish in his arrival back home to us (is there any other part of our day that is exciting as that moment?  the sound of the door handle clicking and sliding across the front carpet, dogs barking and wagging tails, kids shouting 'Daddy!', and his voice calling out, 'hello, family!'...why, oh why don't I cherish this more?  It will be so short-lived, Tabitha, please do better).

Brand reflected that he wants to be more a part of our weekly routines by choosing certain evenings or weekends that are 'daddy days' or 'daddy cooks dinner days.' (sometimes it feels like we lose all routine/schedule when Daddy comes home which makes me feel unorganized and sort of invisible).

It's wasn't revolutionary by any means, but it was a helpful way for us to say what we needed to say and also look at ourselves as a contributor (probably main contributor) to the other's happiness and frustrations.

Being married to someone is no picnic everyday; it takes work and patience and so much personal reflection that it is downright silly.  But when you get right down to it, the fact that we were two random people that have decided to make a family together -that of all the people out there that we've ever met (and those that we haven't yet), we chose each other to make a family where there was none before - that's pretty mind-blowing and amazing to me.  Certainly worth any amount of work, patience, and personal reflection.

Kindness update

I wanted to give a little kindness update on how things are progressing this year for our commitment to 12 months of Kindness.  You can read more about the project here and also see more in depth descriptions of our scheduled monthly kindnesses at the dedicated blog at The 12 Months of Kindness Project.

Things have been going well for our 12 months of Kindness 2013 project - nearly over at this point and I'm already thinking about what might be in store for next year's planning.  

So far this year, we have completed these planned monthly kindness activities:

January:  Local EMS membership & donation

March:  Cookies and thank you letter to the local fire department

April:  Donation through Oxfam America Unwrapped - Grey's birthday choice

May:  Studer Scholarship to local high school seniors

June:  Donation to the Humane Society

July:  5th Annual Beer Olympics to benefit Miss Tay

September:  Donor's Choose donation

October:  [currently working on] Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF

You might be able to tell from above, that we missed doing our kindness activities for the months of February (grandparent date) and August (serving at the food kitchen).  The missing events are lingering in the back of my mind and I keep telling myself that we need to try our best to get them wrapped up before the end of the year.  That's the great thing about kindness - it's never too late.

The reason that we are so dedicated to our 12 months of kindness commitment and making sure that it is planned and recorded is because being kind is always meant with the best of intentions - but the truth is, life can slip into the day and derail your intentions.  So unless it's marked down and scheduled - it is really easy to intend to do a monthly act of kindness (see our months for February and August for proof!) and then so quickly and easily can that intention slip away with the dirty dishes piling up and kids running around wild.  That's also the bad thing about kindness - it always feels like something we can get to later.

Besides are regularly scheduled acts of monthly kindness, we always have opportunities to sprinkle kindness throughout the year too.  The sort that brings fun and companionship into kindness:

April:  Alumni Basketball game to benefit a local high school's mission trip to Central America

August:  a huge delivery of goods to the local Humane Society for my birthday (gifts from my family&friends for donations)

September:  The Gladiator Run to benefit TACA (Talk About Curing Autism)

October:  Buying Jammies for other kids for The Big White Farmhouse's Pajama Drive.  (Ashley's drive runs through Halloween, so there's still time to participate yourself!)

And of course, there is the everyday kindness that presents itself regularly and constantly.  Like holding doors open for the person behind you, reminding the kids to generously say please and thank you, helping family in a pinch, making time for google hangouts and long catch-up phone calls with friends, biting your tongue when its just not worth the argument, choosing to update our statuses with happy and funny news rather than complaints or rants.  

I am uplifted daily to find inspirational stories and amazing acts of kindness, patience, and love.  I seek these out because it is the reminder that I need to keep fighting the good fight.  That people are good, that people care about one another.  At times, it is vital to seek these things out as other stories flood my newsfeed and television of disappointed, disenchanted, and disengaged people who can't find the good in their days.  And so I seek out the grateful, enlightened, and enthusiastic stories from those that look around and see potential and kindness and are so thankful for life it brings tears to my eyes.

Each of us have the opportunity to act in kindness every single day.  Each of us get to choose whether we bring light or darkness into other people's interactions and experiences with us.  Whether we, ourselves, experience more light or darkness in our own days.  Which are you bringing to the days of those that get to experience you?

the electricity between us

There is an electricity that we share, my love.  It's been buzzing for so long now, much longer than the five years we've been married.  What are we rounding out now, fourteen years of kissing, and holding hands, and finishing each other's stories?  Yes, fourteen this Christmas.  How funny time makes it feel much longer than that - and yet somehow, never that long either.

it began, for me at least, with that floating kiss.  I was a junior in high school and you were a freshman (oh, the dramatics of it all).  We had been flirting without abandon for weeks at that point, but never making it official - or as official as you can be in high school anyway - and without a thought in that flitty little mind of mine, I blew you kiss as you walked by the gym from football practice while I was warming up for my volleyball game.  And enchanted, I smiled in delight as you pretended to follow my floating kiss as it tossed and turned through the air between us, until you threw your hand up and caught it, only to smack it on your cheek.  And then, in that moment, my light switch had flipped.  The spark of electricity surged up from nothing within my heart and has never burned out.  Someday when our children ask me, 'When did you know?' I will tell them the story of that floating kiss.

Shortly after, we had our first kiss, like something out of a movie.  And maybe I'm romanticizing it because I love you and I love our story and I am a big 'ole sap.  (But even all that considering, I still don't think I am).  After the school holiday dance, you walked me to my cellar door and we held hands and our lips met in the middle.  The softest, mostly closed, first kiss this Earth has ever seen.  And the house light was making the snowflakes look like crystals raining down on us.  And I swear, to this day, static electricity passed between us.  We were both smiling then, lips to lips, before reluctantly separating.  As the legend goes, you danced through the gas station parking lot on your way home while I nearly flitted up the steps to wake my Mum up with a smile she describes as 'something clearly was different about this one.'

A few months later, you came over to an unsupervised house (sorry, Mums!) to find candles lit and me waiting in just black underclothes.  You had a look on your face like I'll never forget - (honest grateful, joyful surprise maybe?) - and you leaned in to give me a hug and whispered in my ear, 'I can feel your heart beating.' I was so nervous and madly in love with you.  We didn't do anything past second base if I remember correctly, because honestly the only thing about that night that mattered were those first few seconds:  your facial expression, my heart racing, the electricity.

So young, so full of energy and intrigue.  Everything new and full of mystery; eagerly pawing at each other in a dark room.

Then there's the kind of electricity that feels like red, hot poison streaming out of my heart - the kind I used to feel when we would decide to break up for awhile during those painful years of long distance.  I'd see or hear that you were giving attention to some other lucky girl and the deep claws, that scarlet heat, of jealously would radiate from my chest out and all the way to my fingertips.  I know you felt this same thing because we'd talk about it when we would inevitably come back to each other each time.  This is the worst kind of electricity - and even though we haven't felt this in a long, long time - I still remember exactly how it feels.  It burns and hurts, but there is no denying that it is a strong reminder of just how alive you are.  And maybe it was the healing that came out of all the parts that were burned up from those moments that have made us stronger today - like volcanic soil; rich and fertile.

Relevant today, on our five year anniversary - there was that tunnel vision to your face- waiting for me to walk to you, and only you, from the back of the church aisle as all of our standing family and friends faded into the background.  So much electricity, we could have lit up the whole town that day, maybe we actually did.

Photo credit:  Michelle Misner

Then later that night, five years ago today, after so much dancing and hugging and laughing, we made our way to our honeymoon suite and slipped into a bubble bath.  'It was a great day, but I honestly could not wait to get out of there and just be with you,' I told you.  You gave me that sleepy smile, 'I know, me too.'  The hum of comfortable, dependable electricity.

Electricity passes between us in moments now, frequent and often.  Now as we are older, so comfortable and content.  Everything familiar in a soothing way, unconsciously slipping limbs and hands into the spots worn down and smoothed by the years of continued presence of each other.

Your kiss to my forehead when you leave the house before anyone else is awake.  Electricity waking me up.

The way you sleepily move over, lift your arm, and let me spoon up to you when I wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream.  Electricity keeping me safe.

The moment a kiss changes from the everyday variety to a subtle invitation.  It's the extra pressure, or lean in, or the linger.  Enough to make us pull away and stare at each other with smiling, questioning eyes - like, 'you keep this up, friend, and we're going to need to get a room.'  Electricity.  The kind that is like a magnet; primal and undeniable.

Looking across the hospital room and seeing you stare at our first baby, your son.  And then again, looking across the hospital room and seeing you stare at our second baby, your daughter.  Watching you laugh and play with our kids, our dogs, these living things that we share air, space, and dinner with.  The quiet, constant buzz encircling those that are ours.

The zap that passes between us when we both laugh at the same exact time, at the same exact joke.  When we both glance up to find the other one already looking, expectantly waiting to catch the other's eyes.  We know undeniably what the reaction will be, and yet, we still stop to watch the smile spread across that face that is more recognizable than even our own and to hear the sound that brings life to the commonplace and warmth to our heart.

The hum between our hands while we walk together, changing from two singular people to one unit.  We reach out to each other as we walk into unknown places, busy spaces, familiar surroundings, and the small moments when we need reminding that we are not alone in this big, sometimes scary, lonely world - that our sorrow is half sorrow when shared.  But that we are also not alone in this small, sometimes deeply beautiful, joyful world - that our happiness is double happiness when shared.

Photo credit:  Michelle Misner

It's beautiful to imagine my life maybe strung out like a timeline, with lots of little bumps and dots along it.  So much life, family, traveling, friends, moments that would be interesting to passersby.  "Look at this!  Look at that!  What a unique and exciting life this girl has had."

But, what strangers may not realize is at the dot that is marked at that floating kiss, from that point; that one small humming moment - my life timeline became charged with the brilliant yellow of electricity.  And since then has never been just my own life, but yours as well; ours.  All this time, even while a part, it has always been our life.  Running so closely parallel that it is nearly impossible to see that they aren't actually just one thick line.

One would be hard-pressed to find someone in our life that doesn't associate your name with mine or my name with yours.  The first name is always followed by the other, it only matters which of us they met first.  Brandon and Tab; Tab and Brandon.  We are almost always mentioned as a pair which we cherish as a fortitude, rather than a shackle.

In the end, there are not words to express my thankfulness to run this life next to yours.
It is our electricity, my love, that keeps this life we create feel as though it is constantly showered with fireworks.  What a beautiful and wonderful backdrop it gives our everyday.  We are so very lucky.

happy anniversary, bud.
i love you.
yours, tab