Birthday Blessings

Well, guys, for those of you that didn’t know already, Saturday was my 23rd birthday.

Around here, at least for me, birthdays are a special occasion.

I try to make them a special occasion for Wyatt, too, but he just doesn’t get as excited as I do about these things.

Luckily, Hubs was (finally) home from Boston, where he had been on business since Tuesday morning. Ick.

I hate these little trips he has to take away from home. I know, I know, he’s providing for us right now, and he’s moving forward in his career, but it still sucks to be away. I don’t care how often we end up doing this. I’m going to hate it every time.

Every single time.

But…

Moving on.

On Saturday, we had extra to celebrate.

Not only was it my birthday, but it was also the day after Hubs got home, and it was so close to our anniversary, that we spilled it over and celebrated everything all in one.

We started our day off right by sleeping in. It had been a busy week for both of us and we’ve spent early mornings working at the house for the past few weekends.

It started out with a heft dose of sleeping in…because who doesn’t like sleeping in on your birthday…or any day…?

And then Wyatt made this for me.

I’d say that’s a good start to the day…

After breakfast, we went back to bed. Yup. We’re lazy and awesome that way.

And then we got up and went out bargain-hunting. Since buying our house, I’m obsessed with thrift stores, flea markets, garage sales, and all that awesome stuff so it’s what I requested we do.

However, we went to like 10 places around KC and didn’t buy anything. Darnit.

But then, we came back to our apartment, got all cleaned up, and ready to go out again.

We looked something like this:

Yes, the photo is dark, sorry guys.

And Wyatt gave me the present he’d brought back from Boston and wrapped himself.

I love presents!

It was wrapped so perfectly! Look at those corners!

If a man can wrap a good present, marry him, ladies.
(Just kidding.)
(Sort of.)

And it was a great present, inside!

A Boston Marathon workout shirt! It’s yellow! (And I’m going to go with the “inspiration to run a marathon some day, not “faking like I ran the Boston marathon” way of thinking about it)

And then, finally, we went to Melting Pot for dinner!

I’ve wanted to go there for years, and it was totally worth the wait…and the price tag, as it was a triple celebration, after all!

First, we dipped wonderful things in cheese.

Bread, chips, fruits, and veggies. With spinach artichoke dip. Yes please!

And then we ate salad, but let’s face it, that’s not what any of you want to see, is it?

So I’ll skip to the next good part, the raw meat.

A feast for two!

 

And the sauces:

So many choices. I liked the teriyaki best. (Is that how you spell that?)

And then we cooked everything in our pot of boiling delicious broth.

I got to eat all the mushrooms, since Hubs doesn’t like those. Thank you!

But then, the part I had been waiting for all night:

Yup, that’s me holding a rice krispie treat dipped in s’mores chocolate sauce. Oh my heavens. Yum.

It was amazing.

 

Some dessert dipping options. We requested more bananas and rice krispies. But the brownies were also heavenly.

And after eating all of that, we waddled around on the plaza for awhile enjoying the city at night, the fountains, the people, the bright lights. The warm night. (I thought it was perfect. Hubs was a little hot.)

And then we went home and promptly headed to bed.

Of course, we stayed awake long enough to see out the very last moments of “my day,” cuddled up together, all happy and content.

And I thought back to how we’d spent my last birthday… on our honeymoon, in Chicago, at a Cubs game (which they lost! Go Cards!) and then went back to the hotel and ordered a giant apple dumpling, which I ate mostly by myself.

Yes, I know I look awfully “pretty” to be on my honeymoon, but to be fair, I was on antibiotics for a UTI and had spent all night at a very hot, very crowded Wrigley Field.

When I think about all we’ve done this first year, and how blessed I am in this married life, I’m almost overcome with gratitude to the One who wrote this beautiful love story for us, to our parents for both bringing us into this world (Thanks, mom!), and for helping bring us together by raising us to be who we are today, and to Hubs, who so patiently forgives me when I mess up and celebrates our love with me every day in the silly, simple, and sweet ways that are so special to us.

Happy birthday, indeed.

 

So much for my bad day…

I had planned all day to write a post about how awful my day was. The commute was terrible (both to work and home), I had issues with a source, I was locked out of my computer at work because the password expired, I lost some work I’d been doing on a project for Liz’s upcoming party…

But I saw this on my way home from work.

Tulips! Spring! Bright colors! Flowers swaying in the wind!

And how can anyone be unhappy when looking at that?

And then I ran almost 6 miles, and walked 1 with Hubs. And that felt great, too.

Then we made this for dinner.

Tuna patties with tomatoes and veggies. Healthy and delightful.

Yum.

Again, no complaints there.

And we went and played volleyball with friends for more than 2 hours. Which provided even more physical relief.

I mean, what’s better than pounding a volleyball over the net to relieve some frustration?

(Ok, maybe some things are better, but it’s pretty good!)

And I was hungry after all that running and volleyball, so Hubs made me scrambled eggs while I was showering.

Again, more and more reasons to be happy.

Even though I was all set out to be grumpy.

And now, I’m going to bed, later than I’d like (5:55 comes so early!), but much happier than I’d expected.

I’d say that’s a pretty good trade off.

 

My Husband Blessed Me Today

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t love sharing the things I treasure most. For instance, when I order dessert, it’s because I intend to eat it. All of it. I do NOT intend to share it with whoever I happen to be sitting by that didn’t order dessert. (This changed forever on 7/9/11 when I promised to always cheerfully share with Wyatt during our wedding ceremony during the promise ceremony.)

Another example?

Don’t mind if I do.

I dislike sharing the covers. I am a cold person (unless I am exercising, then I sweat a lot…) and when I get in bed, I have a hard time relinquishing the only source of warmth. (Note: I am getting better at this, though it still involves a few moments of Wyatt tugging the covers out from grasp occasionally, and I still cherish those few moments I have in the morning after Wyatt gets up and before I do when I can roll over to Wyatt’s warm side of the bed and make a myself a blanket burrito the way I used to at home.)

Anyway, this week, I have been sharing what I treasure most in this world.

My husband.

I’ve been sharing him with a game I can’t understand or fully appreciate. I was annoyed when I got home at 3:45 from a long day of volunteer work today, sore and tired from the wear and tear I’ve put on my muscles and joints this week. (See my tweets for more on this…) I wasn’t looking forward to a night of sitting on our hard dining room chairs while Wyatt dominated the couch with the loud noises coming out of the TV. But I did 2 loads of laundry, picked up the living room, bedroom, and kitchen (I do this every day, how does it get so messy??), and made dinner. All while my shins and ankles punished me with every step.

(Side note: Wyatt, my resident soccer expert, says my ankles and shins hurt from running around in soccer cleats for two and a half hours last night. I’ve worn my cleats for soccer for the past month or so with no problem. Does anyone have insight in this area?)

Needless to say, I was pretty gloomy when Wyatt came home. I was happy to see him, of course, but just tired. And I wanted some hot chocolate later on and we were out of milk.

At some point I mentioned wishing we had milk.

And you know what?

Wyatt got his shoes and coat back on and went to get it for me.

I didn’t ask him to do it. In fact, I told him not to go. I could go. I didn’t want to make him get out again. Plus, I knew he wanted to play COD.

But he went anyway.

And you know what?

It was a blessing to me. In fact, I was so pleased by his effort that I got the kitchen all cleaned up after dinner and the dishwasher unloaded and reloaded in the time he was gone. I did NOT have the energy to do that before he left.

I also wrote a rough draft for a freelance assignment I’d been struggling to get started on.

And I’m actually pretty comfortable as I sit on the dining room chair with a blanket under my biscuits.

But the most important change that came about from his little trip to the store?

When I look over at him playing, I can’t help but smile. It’s one of those moments when I simply feel overwhelmed with what I feel for him.

He’s playing video games on the couch, yelling at the TV, which, in turn, is making loud shooting noises, and all those other things I dislike, and I’m sitting over here grinning like a school girl.

All because of a gallon of milk.

But isn’t that what it’s all about? He went out of his way to do something kind and generous for me, and as a result, I’m not guilted or forced to “be okay” with a night of video games, I’m actually okay with it. In fact, I’m blessed by it.

A special verse for me has always been John 15:13, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” And yes, I think Wyatt and I have laid down our lives for each other. We’ve committed to putting each other first, laying down the things in our life that don’t bless and grow our relationship.

And tonight, this verse looked like him laying down the controller, even if only for a few minutes.

Learning to live together in marriage is hard. Before, I wasn’t around when he played video games. He did that on his own time, not time when we were together. Now that all our time is together time, we have to learn to find a balance. It’s so important that he doesn’t stop doing things he enjoys just because I dislike them. (And vice versa, of course.) Will he eventually care less about video games when we have kids to worry about and more stuff to deal with and focus on? Probably. But for now, he’s enjoying himself. He has his headset on, playing with friends he doesn’t get to see nearly as often as we’d like, and they’re having fun just being boys. He’s happy.

And you know what?

I am too. I guess it all goes back to that Happy wife, happy life, thing?

So I’m going to go make my hot chocolate now. I used this recipe last time and it was super yummy, though a bit thick for my taste. I may try this one tonight.

Oh, and I’ll keep listening to this…

Sorry the picture is weird, but you get the idea. I'm wearing headphones since Wyatt says it's "too early!" But I'm happy!

Awesome wife, awesome life

Hubs said that to me on Friday night when we got home from an evening out.

I laughed and asked him if he really thought I was awesome.

He, of course, said yes. (what else can he say to a question like that?)

And then I asked if he really thought our life was awesome.

Again, he said yes, and compared his little saying to the more known, “Happy wife, happy life.”

I know it was a silly comment, but it still made me smile. After all, who doesn’t like being called “awesome?”

But it also got me thinking, as most things do.

Am I an awesome wife?

I think I have my moments…both good and bad.

For instance, I get up and make Wyatt’s lunch every day. For the past 4 days, I’ve also made breakfast. On Saturday I even got up early (well, earlier than Wyatt) and ran to the store to buy sausage because Wyatt had said the night before that biscuits and gravy sounded good…and we didn’t have any. Then I made breakfast and got Wyatt up at 10 so he could watch the show he likes. (Yes, my 23-year-old husband still gets up to watch a certain cartoon on Saturday, and yes, I love him for it.)

But on the other hand, I’m not so great at bedtime. I tend to talk as we lay in bed, keeping him up longer than he’d like to be. Usually, the sleepier he gets, the more quiet he gets, and since I’m not tired, I get annoyed. And then he falls asleep and I get grumpy. And then I sigh and roll over and huff and puff, and he tends to wake up. Not such a great wifely moment there.

And I’m also a bit slow getting ready, and a bit messy. (Ok, more than a bit on both of those things, though I do clean up the apartment daily.)

I sometimes make him go for walks with me even though I know he doesn’t like to walk or run “for no reason,” and I tend to want him to “entertain” me when he gets home work since I’m usually ready for some interaction by that point. (I try hard to let him just relax and eat dinner and watch TV, but sometimes, I can’t always contain myself.)

I also tend to ask him to do chores I don’t like to do, like unload the dishwasher.

But I guess the main question is what makes a good wife, or an awesome wife. And I’m not sure. Before we got married, I had this huge hunger to learn to be a good wife. And while I still don’t know exactly what to do and not do, I think I’m doing a pretty good job of figuring out my role. Still, I’m not sure what makes the difference between being a good wife and an awesome wife. I mean, in life and school, I was never one to settle for “just good.” I strived to be the best I could at whatever I did.

I haven’t really thought about if I could be doing more as a wife. I was just concerned with doing regular “wife things,” and being a wife at all, to worry about being the best wife I can be. And it’s not that I think I’m doing a bad job, I’m just re-evaluating whether I’m doing a good job or a great job.

I guess I’m talking about attitude and motivation. (Aren’t those always the things to work on?)

What about you? Do you try to be the best wife you can? What does that look like? Have you found your husband knows when you are trying “harder?”  Does he respond accordingly?