inspired by this picture of Adrian’s I saw this moment and took out my camera while on my one hour date with Ted Saturday afternoon.

What to do while your children are at a birthday party in Poulsbo? Grab an almond moo at a creative coffee house, sit on the sofa together and talk about life for a while.

I don’t mean that I miss an exit now and then. I mean that I have zero sense of direction and worse than zero–I’m somehow fundamentally miswired. When I had lived in Lubbock for almost ten years, I still sometimes got lost going to my sister’s house. Once, driving alone in Oklahoma City (with a frantic cat on the passenger seat, gnawing his way out of his cardboard carrier) I found where the highway ends. It has a road block and, beyond, a big field.

Hey Amanda, if you ever come to our house (she lives in the same county), I’ll be sure to give you good directions because the highway here ends on the ferry boat to Seattle.

Last night Ted and I happened to discuss how we love each other despite our flaws. We had read an article in which another couple described how they learned to assume the best of each other in situations even when frustrated. While their examples of sloppy, soggy towels and over-peppered eggs seemed trite to me, the principle of loving and persevering through bad habits and annoying character traits was significant.

When we first married, I tried to make Ted happy. Not that I don’t try now. But little things in our home became big deals to me, the miniscule magnified by my insecurities, from the taste of the meals to the appearance of the apartment. I noted how Ted liked eggs cooked and the bed made. I thought if I did everything right, if I could keep him happy, I would be loved. The truth was that I was afraid of being someone who wasn’t loved.

Soon Ted and I went through a time where we were able to glimpse each other’s ugliness. I think mine was pretty glaring and not pretty at all. It was an intense experience of seeing into my soul and realizing that I had rottenness within me. Despite my attempts, I was a mess.

After seeing how little I deserve love, I am grateful for Ted and less concerned with his habits that might annoy me. How can I pick on him when I know that I have many flaws inside me? Mercy means I can learn to love beyond limits and judgments. Grace keeps us dancing despite the stumbling.

The past few years, while calmer for our marriage itself, have taken us through some stormy situations. I’ve learned to hold many aspects of our life with an open hand, seeing how easily they could come or go. Compared to the crises we’ve weathered, little things in our relationship seem miniscule, not worth mentioning.

We’ve come to accept each other as we are. This happens in a physical dimension first in romance. After all, neither one of us married a movie star. Physically, through time, I feel I’ve grown farther from the cultural standard of beauty, yet my husband loves me. Maybe, dare I say, he loves me more than he did years ago. Other aspects of ourselves have been revealed through the years as well. I like to think that parts of me that weren’t so pretty when I was younger, are now emerging in maturity, like stones smoothed by the ocean waves. Yet Ted’s seen other sides of me, raw and rocky. And he’s still here loving me. I’m amazed and grateful.

Love is a gift. It’s a gift given by one flawed soul to another. It’s like gold, valuable and beautiful, adorning the beloved. It’s like a treasured Christmas present made precious because you know it is better than what you deserve. I should have found a lump in my stocking and instead I found love.

Being beloved means every morning becomes Christmas morning.

when in doubt review something. theres not enough reviews on blogs. review a movie you just saw, a tv show, a cd, a kiss you just got, a restaurant, a hike you just took, anything.

Hey, I thought while reading it this afternoon. I’ll review the kiss I’ll receive tonight when Ted comes home. Can you tell I’ve been looking forward to this moment after eight days of separation? But then Ted called me to tell me his flight was cancelled. My husband has to spend another night in a hotel in Virginia. I won’t be able to kiss him until lunchtime tomorrow. I’m disappointed – we all are – and this delay gives me more time to think…

No kiss review tonight. And no kiss review tomorrow either.
I’ve changed my mind: some things are too good to share.

During the meal another physician at the table encouraged and strengthened my friend with his experience and advice. Enoch wrote:

He shared candidly the rules of maintaining a marriage thru toddlerhood (a time even more stressful to marriage than internship/residency):
- a spouse must share regular sexual intimacy with their spouse. even if you just lay there, that’s the most important need for the man
- the spouse that works more out of the home, must
- 1) come home and give the more-at-home spouse 2 hours off when they get home
- 2) limit time off to 2 hours to do their hobbies, and do parental duties in the rest of the time after work: wash all dishes, clothes, buy all groceries and do all needed shopping
- 3) continue this thru the time that the youngest is 4.5 years old because that’s when the more-at-home spouse will emerge out of the stupor of fatigue from caring for the kids, to have the energy to express their love again
- 4) examples of how to make this happen: bring kids to costco, keep them strapped in their car seat; bring to park, make sure you look up every 30 seconds; it was really clear that he’d done these things himself. pretty amazing.
- 5) the penalty for not following this advice is DIVORCE. pretty scary.

I was impressed that toddlerhood is considered more of a challenge to a marriage than internship and residency! I also appreciated the idea that it takes four years or more for the at-home-spouse to have more energy. Right now my children are 2.5, 4.5 and 6.75. I don’t think I’m being unfair to say that our youngest requires more work than her older two sisters, simply because she is a two year old. She needs help with her hygiene, clothes and food while her siblings are self-sufficient. At one point, I had 3 children under 5 years. That was a stressful time for us, with many changes in our lives, some of them unrelated to our children. Looking back I wish I knew then what I know now. On rough days I reassure myself that in a couple more years taking care of the kids will be easier, at least physically. Funny thing is, I’m not sure I realized how much effort it was, until the kids became independent; now taking care of one toddler seems like more work than it was to take care of three wee ones!

I like the idea of giving the at-home spouse 2 hours of hobby time a day! What a luxury! This wouldn’t work for our family schedule since we are a bit more nocturnal and Ted stops working at dinner time. If I took my two hours of hobby time then, we wouldn’t enjoy our time together as a family. As it is right now I have hobby time after the girls go to bed and on weekend afternoons.

The idea of doing parental duties and household chores in the time after work may be a good one for some families but probably wouldn’t work for ours either. Here on the island, many stores close by 5 to 7 at night so it would be difficult to run errands later in the day. I have to take the children with me to do some chores. Otherwise they wouldn’t get done. Plus it may be more efficient to run errands during the morning, when fewer people are shopping. I choose to do laundry, cleaning and dishes as much as possible during my time with the children while Ted works. The kids help me with the chores and I also free up time for later at night to spend with Ted.

Notice that the experienced physician did not suggest using money to solve problems. He didn’t say to hire a nanny or a babysitter or a house cleaner or concierge. I appreciate that he suggested how the parents could change the situation themselves. After all, money can make work easier but money can’t make a marriage work.

One further comment: without discussing explicit details, I’m not sure I agree with the advice on intimacy.  Is it satisfying a husband’s emotional need if his wife doesn’t seem interested in him? I believe men want to be wanted, just as women do. My advice would be that intimacy of all kinds flows best when partners feel strong emotionally, physically and spiritually. Giving each other time away from the kids and duties, finding time alone and time together for refreshment, may help. Desire, like love, can be a choice, and may be made in the mind (at least for some women).

A paragraph later in Enoch’s post may provide more context for the advice given:

This is not what i expected tonight. It was like getting pleasantly walloped – but from a coworker I could trust, who actually did all of this, but suffered from not getting the physical intimacy from the more-at-home spouse that he needed.

I hope Enoch doesn’t feel too walloped but from his respective blog post it seems that he would both agree it was an excellent evening of blessing. 

I agree that the single best segment in the show may be Maryam’s insights on life in Iran, what has happened there and why she came here. She praised the generosity and hospitality of the geek community. My favorite quotes from Maryam on what life is like being married to a geek included this observation:

They don’t have time to cheat on you…The thing you have to compete with is not another woman: it’s a toy….

I wasn’t looking to marry a geek or get a geek boyfriend or not get a geek – I was happy just to get a date! Maryam had some nice words to say about changing the bad rap geeks get in the singles scene (among women especially). Next week I will have lived thirteen years with one man and his harem of computers.

I even used to call one of them, the first one, Mistress Mac but now no more. Now there are too many to name! No, what’s different now is that I’ve seen the price Ted has had to pay for me in these years, and I know I have cost him more than any machine.

Listening to the show, I had to smile a few times. Just a few.

You know you’ve found a good husband when you tell him bad news and he makes you laugh.

Yesterday Ted was at a conference in Seattle while our dryer was being disassembled (note: the drum is almost as large as our daughter). The good news was that the machine was operating hot enough to use as a stove instead. Hey, we could cook eggs and bacon upstairs too. The bad news was that it would cost us two service visits (and more than two c-notes) to repair it. We’re not excited about spending money towards repairs, especially after writing a budget and also replacing our washing machine in this two weeks of the new year…

As I’m sitting at my desk IMing him, I start to laugh at Ted’s responses. The kids want to know why I’m laughing. For a moment I forget about the bills and details. The stress of the day dissipates into silliness. I’m glad I married a man who can make me laugh in the midst of a crisis.

For the trip this weekend, he had to take a suit. He doesn’t like to wear a suit. But I like to see him wear it. And I like to watch him pack it. He puts together the pieces, taking the coat and then the pants out of the closet. Searching through his collection of ties for the right one to match. Finding his dress shirt and belt. Dress socks come out of the drawer as well as his shoes. I realize his entire wardrobe is different from mine. Men’s clothes are a mystery to me. I’m fascinated by them. And by the man who wears them.

I’ve heard about feminine mystique. But I believe in masculine mystique also.

Dean Esmay wrote a post recently describing his feelings about name changing. I would try to quote part of it, but then I would end up quoting all of it. In particular I appreciated how he expressed his love for his wife and family.

I exchanged my lengthy British (although often mistaken for Native American) surname for a shorter Chinese one. My maiden name was less common from a global perspective and more distinctive from a local one (almost everyone in the Seattle area who has my maiden name is a relative of mine). I went from having a specific identity to anonymity: there are millions of Leungs on the planet. However, since we have not often lived in cities with large Chinese populations, Leung has become somewhat distinctive as well. Nevermind that I don’t look like my last name.

I don’t think it matters whether a woman takes her husband’s name or not. I see the choice as a cultural one: what does it mean to the couple? I don’t think any global generalizations can be made about a family’s love based on who has whose name. In China, for example, I have heard that wives retain their maiden names. On The Redhead’s post, people commented that Canadian women don’t change their names either. There are practical reasons to keep one’s maiden name. Two friends who were physicans when they married worried that confusion would result from two doctors in the same hospital with the same name. Sometimes it may not seem to make sense to make a change. (Eric Rice’s post on his experience with Google Suggest suggests other reasons in this age to consider when making a name change.)

Life as a Leung has been interesting for me but I’m glad I changed my name. It did not require excessive amounts of paperwork, from what I remember. It was a simple thing to do. And it may have made our life simpler. I like it that we all have the same name, parents and kids. I like the convenience of only five letters to type. I like my husband too, and the more of life I share with him, the better.

Hugh in The Redhead’s comments wrote

So, with all the legalistic and philosophical fretting now done, here is my advice you you: Wendy, call yourself by the name that makes your heart sing. But pay attention to whether it makes Joey’s heart sing as well.

Dean described what makes his heart sing…I can’t resist quoting these few sentences after all…

My own happiness comes second to whatever she needs, and her changing her name to mine signals that to me. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. She’s my reason for being. Her wearing my name doesn’t make her subordinate to me. I many ways, it makes me subordinate to her.

And that’s the gist, really: we are subordinate to each other.

I know the name that makes my heart sing and I’m glad I have it: his.

He also wrote about his uncle’s death this week, …dead, and not yet dead, and this season of life where we find ourselves, with his parents’ generation beginning to pass away. Since we’ve been married, we’ve lost four of ten aunts and uncles in Ted’s family, three of them in the past five years. It’s a time of sorrow but also, I find, a time of cherishing what we have and those we can love in the here and now.

Speaking of those we can love here and now, I should go spend some time with Ted. Through IT Conversations and family conversations this week, we are each looking at the other in new light. Ted described me as my famous wife, which sounds funny to me. I feel he is the famous one! Whenever my husband sees me do something new for the first time, or I get to observe him, it’s a revelation for our relationship. I remember the first time he saw me run a road race, after a year or two of our marriage, even though I had been running since childhood. And listening to IT Conversations was the first time he heard me lead a discussion by myself, although I have taught classes and lead groups without him.

We love to work together but there’s also something wonderful about seeing and supporting the other partner in his own passions and choices. I know Ted has chosen to go out east next week for the love of his family, and I want to support him at this time, as his family is changing. His family is my family too, but at the same time, his family is not mine: there are experiences, culture and history I can’t share.

We inhabit a world together but also separate spheres. We dance and then we step apart, as if through sliding glass doors, able to get a glimpse here or there of what the other is doing somewhere else on the planet but unable to participate ourselves. We applaud and pray and wait for the return and the embrace of our beloved.

One of the wonders of marriage is how intimate we can be, not only in body but in spirit and emotion. We are two and also one. In some sense, we are never separate.

We know each other better than we know anyone else in the world, and yet there will always be mysteries in our marriage, surprises that continue to reveal themselves, as we grow old together. ‘Til death do us part.

So wrote Grant today before heading to the altar to marry Pamela (picture of chapel included in the post!) – congratulations! Even though he broke the rule, I certainly hope he doesn’t keep breaking the rules and blog from his honeymoon

C.K. Sample recently married Kristin and felt overwhelmed (writing at a later date).

Friday, at my wedding, I felt one emotion, pure joy, pulsing through me, watering my eyes, moving me deeply. I was overwhelmed. This feeling lasted through the entire ceremony until we were standing in the receiving line. It had to be a good 45 minutes of feeling hyper-alive and overwhelmed. Then after the ceremony, for the rest of the evening, I was largely in shock and left reeling from the experience.

I also liked his post describing what it was like to wear a new ring.

I had heard that Scott Johnson’s beloved said yes! but I didn’t remember when the wedding date was. So when I saw Scott at BloggerCon wearing a band on his left hand, I guessed they must be married now and I congratulated him. But I was wrong. I think Scott told me that the wedding would be in January. I hesitate to try to quote him, so instead I’ll summarize: Scott wanted to have an engagement ring because he thought men should have them too, to indicate their commitment and fidelity. I thought it was a cool idea. Congratulations to Scott and Shelley!

All three of these men have used the word “joy” to describe their feelings. One of the wonderful aspects of blogging is that we readers too get to taste a bit of that overwhelming joy…thanks for sharing!