Tag Archives: marriage

Spam Fried and Personal

23 Aug

I love my spam folder.  I love it  because it holds such promise.  Promise such as emails awaiting me in the folder that say the nicest things.  Things such as, “Hello.  I love your post bringing me super inspired.” And, “Dear Web-admin, much show you nice work…”   Now who wouldn’t love such praise?  Especially as I read the eloquence of the sentence and then scroll over the link from the sender to find an array of pretty, shiny watches or weight loss information.  Isn’t that just the highest compliment one can receive?

Ok I admit my brain is a bit fried which is why I even perused my spam folder in the first place.  Hence the title, “Spam Fried” but feel free to say ‘fried spam’ if that fits your fancy.  Though I assure you, the food from a can will never grace a fry pan o’ mine!

This past weekend, as mentioned in my last post, we attended the wedding of a cousin.  Funny thing is, only a few days before did she reach out and ask my husband to officiate.  So what was going to be, for us, a one day affair turned quickly into much more than that.  In addition to that particular emotional celebration, my little brother proposed to his girl on Sunday.  It was important to him to have all of us present for the proposal (which made for a lot of back and forth driving for us from the coast to the inland), and we are, each and every one, quite touched that he and his betrothed shared the big question in front of family witnesses.  I have only ever been involved in one other proposal, my own.  And being included in his, feels very special.  Alas, a full circle experience!

Yet accompanied with the wedding bell theme…

While down in southern Cal for the weekend, my brother-in-law was offered a job.  A position too wonderful to refuse.  The only caveat (Cole, my son, and I have decided we cannot stand the word “caveat”…it just sounds so pretentious.  Yet it is a good fit, regardless of my judgment of it), it will relocate his family (my sister and her children) and they won’t be ready for the move for at least a year, probably two.  Thus, they will have a commuting husband/father for a quite a while which is not an easy task especially with a newborn and toddler (actually the family dynamic includes a 5 year old niece and a father-in-law as well–but that’s just a little sprinkling of “salt and pepper” to add a bit of spice to life.  Right?).  I know the role of commuting family members is tough on the nuclear unit because I am aware of the difficulty military families go through and also because I have a good friend whose family is enduring the hardship of a similar circumstance.  But all said and done, the job offer is quite a ‘honey’ of a deal…it also means I potentially have more family in southern Cal, which excites my very soul.  Whew, what a weekend!

Additionally, on Monday, of this week, my sixteen year old daughter began her adventure as a full time college student.  Which is a scary thought for her father, her brother, and I because she looks and acts older than 16, yet she is quite naive–though very intelligent and full of wisdom.  Yes, Esther is a ‘college student imposter’.  Ironically, so am I.  I, too, had to return to college this week.  I have an obligation to “endeavor to earn the good grade advanced to me by a most compassionate and understanding teacher” (a class I had to walk away from when my son went into the hospital back in March 2011).  And last night toward the end of a group discussion, the subject of me having a daughter on campus came up.  A fellow compadre, with a shocked look on her face exclaimed, “You have a daughter here?  I thought you were my age!”  Her age being twenty-one.  “No, I even have a son older than my daughter.”  …now that is the kind of compliment I should find in my spam folder, for if those types of good words were present, I would not think twice to approve them for publishing!  So yes, my daughter and I have a sting operation going at our local community college.  Though there is no trepidation for my husband and son, regarding my naivety.

Amidst the above hullabaloo,   I found the time to venture to my local, and favorite, independent movie theater.  And believe it or not, both my daughter and husband were able to be by my side though the decision was a spontaneous one.  We watched a French film titled, “The Intouchables.”  For those of you reading this blog via email, iphone, or ipad, I have included a video link to the trailer.  Essentially, it was one of the best movie’s I have seen in quite a while…since seeing the movie, “Made in Dagenham“.  The three of us became lost in the story, the humor, and the sentimentality.  So much so that we forgot we were reading subtitles.  If you have the ability to venture out to a movie, I highly recommend “The Intouchables.”

The Intouchables movie tickets

Movie Ticket Stubs

Back to Spam Fried and Personal…

This has been one hell of a week!  I use the word, ‘hell’ to give an informal nod to the young Oklahoma valedictorian student who has yet to receive her high school diploma because she used the bad word in her live speech.  At any rate, it really has been a hell of a week.  For that reason, I am hiding behind wedding and family bliss with a little nonsense thrown in for fluff.  I know the good Lord is ‘working things together for good’ because I know that we ‘love him and are called according to his purpose’ (Romans 8:28).  But oh how it hurts, which is where I will leave it.  Now go to the movie theater, and like Mr. Roarke from Fantasy Island used to say, “Smiles, everyone, smiles.”

 

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Betty Cranker, The Marriage Killer

4 Feb

I am here, I have arrived!  That is only to say I am finally sitting down to write the, in my opinion, now expired post.  But because I have thrice alluded to its coming (or twice I can’t remember), I remain a woman of my word and will present my past due thoughts as best I remember them…

As most of you know, I am married to a very expressive, very artistic, very capable man.  And since I have been with him quite some time now, I have finally learned the following lesson: “never judge his creation midway through”…it is just wrong to do.  And if I open my mouth too soon, offering my extremely valuable criticism, it is usually detrimental to my well being and his (on a small scale, just means I get chewed out for not understanding the direction of the work, and he in turn is frustrated by my lack of vision).

Anyway, the reason I can’t come midway into his projects is because he pulls inspiration from, as I call it, “the sun, the moon, and the stars.”  His thoughts and vision are so vast and so abstract, yet he manages to meld them together into visual genius.  Most of the time my practical reasoning just can’t keep up.

So it was a few weeks ago when this type of vast and abstract thought process took a hold of my beloved and he garnished a two hour window of our Saturday morning pulling the “sun, moon, and stars” into a family conversation that seemed to be headed nowhere.  I promise you he used the phrase, “my point is…”, several times and yet my daughter and I looked at him and said, “I still have no idea what your point is!”  Now periodically, like his master works of art, his method of conversation reflects the same methodology.  So if I interject too quickly, I get an earful and his frustration escalates.  So finally at the end of the Saturday morning “show”, a peaceful conclusion was made between father and daughter and wife.  Though me being who I am, an-impatient-for-this-type-of-unnecessary-prattle-when-I-have-other-things-to-do, kind of person, held on to the irritated feelings I felt I so deserved.

Setting of the scene:  An irritated, overstressed, tired wife–aka Rivka on Saturday morning a few weeks ago.  Kitchen cleaned from the making and serving of breakfast.  Refrigerator and cupboards replenished with items from Costco and Trader Joe’s.  Rivka on hands and knees scrubbing the hallway linoleum.

Since the time limits of the morning were maxed out, Brian was in a hurry to get out the door and get to his workshop (the clothing company u50.com).  And since we are a budget conscience family, as he came to kiss me goodbye I asked if he had made his lunch.  He of course did not because in all honesty, it is his least favorite thing to do.  Now I usually enjoy preparing him something fun, with a love note written on his napkin.  But being my schedule was now out of synch with the load of the day, I was not in a favorable position to accommodate his “preparatory deficiencies”.  But he was already in a flurry, for his schedule was also now out of synch so he announced he would buy his lunch.  Not a big deal when written here in prose, yet being I was already cranky, his position on the subject was an affront to my entire being.  And with each scrub of the floor, my thoughts became more and more vile.  They went something like this, “I am not Betty F**kin Crocker.  Betty F**kin Crocker didn’t f**king pay the bills and do the taxes.  All Betty F**king Crocker had to do was look pretty and make a few meals…her husband took care of the rest of the “business” of the family.  No, I am more Betty F**kin the Riveter!  So take that mister, I-can’t-make-my-own-lunch!”

“Whew”…now isn’t that a pile of my last post’s title!  While I was busy mentally chewing out Brian, Betty Crocker, and even Rosie the Riveter, I knew that if I spoke one word of my foul thoughts to my husband, it would be a detrimental mistake.  And I knew that truth so concretely because the beautiful word of G-d, which serves as the master reference for such things, points it out perfectly in the book of Proverbs.  It says, “It is better to dwell in the corner of the housetop, than with a contentious woman in a whole house.” (Prov. 25:24).  “What is contentious?”, you ask.  In dictionary terms it is, “tending to argument or strife; quarrelsome.”

So I had to ask myself, is my ranting the type of nourishment I want to pour into and onto my marital relationship?  Well, as you can see by my title, my answer was (is and always will be), no.

Now I share this with you so that you, too, may recognize her should she come into your presence.  For Betty F**kin Crocker is really Betty Cranker The Marriage Killer in disguise.  Run for your life should she come to town!

My beloved and me

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