...for posting.
Too busy being spoiled by hubby for my birthday. Sammy is with Grandma, so we are footloose and fancy free! There has been hand holding, and window shopping. And lingering. No stroller. No feeding schedule. It's all about us. Guess what we did? Went to the mall and looked at little clothes for Sam. Even when he is not with us, he is with us. I love it.
Good times.
You may or may not have noticed, but I seem to have lost my blogging mojo. I was actually seriously considering pulling the plug on the whole thing, but my dear hubby stepped in and put the kibosh on that crazy idea, so here I am. And to think I wasn’t even sure he was a reader of this blog, and now he is heading the protest. So in honor of him, I thought I would dedicate to him the following post. After all, it was 9 years ago tonight that he swooped in and changed my life forever…
Nine years ago tonight I was on my very first date with a quiet blond fellow named Harv. I had worried all day about who was going to carry on the conversation, and had even conscripted my girlfriends to help me with conversation starters and witty repartee. I was so pleased to discover that this fellow was not as quiet as I thought but was actually quite chatty when I would let him get a word in edgewise (some things haven’t changed…).
We spent the evening at the Winnipeg Zoo, walked around Assiniboine Park, and went out for coffee. I’ll tell you folks, one date and my life was never the same. One night changed everything. That guy hooked me right from the start, and I’ve been stuck on him ever since. I dug out my old journal to see my post-date-play-by-play and found the crazy ramblings of a star struck young girl…
...Lord I am scared to give my heart away. We have been on one date and already my mind has got me married. I want to take it slow, but yet my mind dreams of taking it fast…
6 months later we were engaged. 9 years later, and life with him just keeps getting better and better. Happy “date-a-versary” hubby. Thanks for getting up the nerve to ask me out. Thanks for walking with me through the sweaty palms and nervousness of our first date. I’d do it all over again.
So it’s official. I am not normal. I realize that most of you regular readers are well aware of this fact after much self disclosure on my part over the last year, but now I am aware of my abnormal-ness on a whole new level. Here it is…I’m not a normal girl. This new level of self discovery was made possible though a little pre-Valentine’s day discussion between me and my dear hubby. I thought I would let you in on the encounter…
Hubby: (approaching gingerly with a mixed look of sweetness, sheepishness and quite possibly like he is up to something) "So Sweetheart…there is a hockey game on Wednesday night, and Dave would really like to go. But it’s Valentines, and if you want me to stay home I will."
Me: "Hmmmm." (in deep thought)
Hubby: "You know what…never mind…I’m going to stay home. Its Valentines…We should really do something together. Unless you don’t mind."
Me: "Hmmmm." (more deep thought…waiting for the feelings of outrage and hurt and womanly indignation over being brushed off on this day of romance and love)
Hubby: "I should really stay home. Do you want me to stay home? What are you thinking?"
Me: "Hmmmm." (more deep thought, and purposeful recall of single days long ago when the thought of a romantic date or rather lack thereof was enough to send me to the Wal-Mart chocolate aisle in a crazed attempt for comfort)
Hubby: "It’s totally up to you. If you don’t want me to go, I will stay home. I WANT to stay home with you. But if you don’t care either way…"
Me: "Hmmmmm...Y'know…Why does this not bother me? I am more bothered about the fact that this doesn’t bother me, than anything. I am not a normal girl!! I should be all hurt and outraged and filled with girl-like consternation. Why does this not bother me? " (panicked self-discovery moment)
You know, I should have known. I should know myself by now. After last year, I should have been prepared. But I wasn’t. And so now, on Valentines Day, Hubby is going out for supper with some church guys, and then to a hockey game, and I am staying home. And we are both happy. Confused, but happy.
P.S. Harv brought me a huge bouquet of beautiful flowers. The warm fuzzy feeling that gurgled in my heart made me feel a little more girly. I am canceling my prescription for hormone therapy pills in the morning.
In honor of my dear hubby who is 34 today, I would like to present the following list...
Shirley's Top Ten Reasons Why It's Great To Be Married To Harv.
Happy Birthday my love. You are truly an exceptional person. I'm so glad I get to celebrate you today!! I hope it's a great day.
When my Grandma and Grandpa got married many years ago they used the text from the book of Ruth where she say’s “…Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God…(1:16)” I was thinking about this last night, and wondering if Ruth forgot one…how about “your interests will be my interests”? We definitely take on the interests of our spouse when we get married – maybe we don’t adopt them whole heartedly, but they most definitely affect us – like it or not. I pondered this last night as I sat with my hubby in what I considered to be the world’s longest and coldest hockey game. We had a date last night - a date for Hubby. Tim Horton’s and Hockey…He was a very happy man.
I have a confession to make. I hate hockey. I really do. It is probably my least favorite sport. But I do love that man I married, and so in the interest of sharing his interests, off I went. Seeing as how I wasn’t 100% invested in the plays of the game, I had some time to observe and ponder. These are thoughts I would like to share with you today. I have entitled them – Shirley’s Wandering Hockey Thoughts…
*Why do they cut out the music JUST when I am getting into it? Every time.
*Why oh young girl do you wear a summery white mini skirt and sandals to a hockey game? Could that skirt possibly be any shorter? Aren’t you freezing? And where is your jacket? Do you notice EVERY SINGLE PERSON commenting on your goose bumps as they walk by? Was that the desired effect of the outfit?
*I wonder if that guy would notice if I tripped him and stole his popcorn.
*I can’t feel my toes. Are they still there?
*Does Harv know how cute he is?
*4 minutes 31, 30, 29, 28, 27…
*Did you know that if you draw blood it’s an immediate 4 min penalty?
*Seriously – how long can 4 minutes take?
*How does Slap Shot the mascot dog really feel about his job? Is he hot in all that fur? Would he lend me one of his paws to keep my hands warm?
*I like how the goalie can squirt water through his front teeth. That is a talent I should acquire.
*Is there any wife as bored as I?
*Where is your mother, oh young jacketless child?
*Where did they find the music soundtrack from my grade 7 sock hop dance? Cool.
*I think my nose just froze off.
*Why does Harv love having me here so much?
*Oh please don’t go into overtime. Please don’t go into overtime.
So attending that game didn’t turn me into a raving hockey fan. I can’t imagine that if Harv hadn’t come into my life I would have season tickets and a big foam hockey finger hanging from the wall, but regardless we both left the game happy. Harv got to share one of his interests with his favorite companion (me!). I got to see how happy that made him AND as a bonus, I got a whole new reason to update my blog – which definitely is of interest to me!
So, I have been taking in some pretty interesting news items as I walk on the treadmill. This treadmill thing isn’t just good for the state of my heart, but also for my mind. Like killing two birds with one stone so to say. But I don’t really like to associate the treadmill with killing because I am hoping that this will extend my life and not cut it short.
But speaking of killing, today’s little tid bit of informational news was quite unspeakable, but I shall speak of it anyway. Did you know that 6 people are killed by their spouse a day in the U.S.A.? BY THEIR SPOUSE!! Shocking. They were giving some pointers on how to know if the one sleeping next to you at night was about to go over the brink and make a hit on your life…y’know…take you out. So according to the “expert” (and I am using that term loosely) one of the signs of someone on the edge is someone who exhibits extreme selfishness, and self centeredness. Someone who thinks it’s all about them. Well my goodness. All I could think of is that Harv better start sleeping with one eye open, because his life could be in danger! You never know when I might snap.
Yes, the green monster of selfishness has reared it's ugly head in our household from time to time, but I hardly think that this would assign either Harv or myself to a life of mass murder. There have been times where I have indeed sang to Harv “It’s all about me….Shirley”, but does that mean that Harv should start sleeping with a switchblade under the pillow for protection? I hardly think so.
Well I am just so glad that I know who it is that I am sleeping beside, and I know who it is that I am married to (they are the same person!!). I am glad that I can sleep in peace knowing that I will not be on the 6:00 news tonight just because I struggle with wanting a little bit more attention than maybe I am allotted, and because I like to have things done my way. Ok…I know that I should work on that, BUT – I would like to worry about fixing the selfishness without having to worry about working on the murderous tendencies. One problem at a time. After all, a leopard can't change it's spots overnight right?
May you all have a very peaceful sleep…
Do you ever feel like you just don’t get it? That you are just not quite making the grade?
Today my Hubby spoiled me for Valentine's Day. He brought me tulips, one of my most loved flowers, a great card, and best of all – the DVD of Grey’s Anatomy – Season #1 which was just released this morning. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. It’s my all time favourite show which I could watch every night, and now – well, I can! He knows me well. He knows how THRILLED I would be with such a treasure. He is a good husband.
And as for me as a wife…well, not so good. I can’t say that I have spoiled him back for Valentine’s Day. I ran ahead of him into Superstore tonight and picked out a card while he was getting the cart. It was late, so it was just me, and the other sheepish, neglectful spouses digging through a pathetic shame-filled sea of leftover, picked through cards. They were already marked down, and they might as well of had a neon flashing sign “Loser Lover” shining brightly above the card section. I put it in the cart, and Harv paid for it. There was no gift. Not even a special supper made for him tonight, because we were with the church all day on a ski trip.
So I’m wondering if anyone is looking for a slightly used and quite pathetic wife. I think Harv is looking to trade me in for a better model – preferable someone who is good with the Hallmark holidays!
I don’t even have a good excuse. I just suck. I am not romantic, I never know what to buy Harv for presents, I forget to buy cards till the last minute, it nearly kills me to try and plan something for his birthday, and I was relieved at Christmas when we were too poor to exchange presents. This is not my most shining hour people!
But I am not all bad. When I make him a lunch for his City Ministerial meetings, I sometimes put a little “hope you’re having a good day” note inside. I have been known to fill his shampoo bottle when I notice it is getting empty, so that he doesn’t find himself in the early morning tired and shampoo-less. I give him a "once over" on Sunday mornings, so that he will not find himself preaching a heart felt sermon with cereal in his teeth or cat hair on his tie. I watch where he puts things, so that I know where to find them when he is running through the house in frustration, and I talk non-stop to the point of annoyance to others about all the qualities that I love about him, and what a wonderful man he is. BUT I CAN’T CONQUER THE HALLMARK HORROR!! I can’t get it together for the special occasions.
Is there an equivalent to flowers for men? I can’t buy Harv flowers. He will know that they are more for me, than for him. But what is the equivalent for men? Last time I checked electronics were quite a bit more expensive than carnations or tulips! And really, a bouquet of Bic pens just doesn’t have the same effect as a dozen long stemmed roses. You men have it easy – you really do.
So, I definitely didn’t make it into the “Most Wonderful Wife Hall of Fame” for Valentine’s Day. And given my pathetic track record, things aren’t looking too hopeful for Easter or St. Patty’s Day either. But I would like to express to my dear Hubby that it is NOT that I don’t love you with every fibre of my being! I REALLY do. I am just not so good at this sort of thing.
And as for all of you, any sort of counsel would be much appreciated. Maybe with your help I could make it into the Hall of Fame for Thanksgiving or Chinese New Year. I do make a mean Fried Rice…
Today is Harv's birthday. I am so happy to be able to celebrate my favorite person in the whole wide world. Tonight I am taking him to Boston Pizza. Glen and Becky are coming, and so it should be a rip roaring good time (well, we know it will be loud. It usually is when Becky and I get together). I am most looking foward to having a large group of people sing a very loud birthday song and draw lots of attention to Harv!!
I am a very blessed person. I have a wonderful husband whom I love so dearly. It is his birthday, but I feel like I am the one who gets the gift, because I get to be married to him!! I know - it's sounds too sappy, but he is really a very remarkable person! So happy birthday hubby!! I'm glad you were born, and I'm glad I get to be married to you!! I love you more than words can say!!
Big hot date for Harv and I Monday night…TV trays and election results. Whewweee we are one exciting couple! Hot Stuff. I made a lovely supper for the occasion. A Chinese concoction of sorts including Pineapple chicken and mini egg rolls. We even splurged and used not two, not three, but FOUR chicken breasts. THAT NEVER HAPPENS. That’s like 3 times more than we would normally use. And it wasn’t even our anniversary.
It was a good night. There was some yelling at the TV at first, but in the end I was pretty happy with the results. Maybe I am more of a political spirit than I thought I was. Or maybe there was just some deep resonation with the political leaders. I listened to their speeches and have been pondering over a great revelation since then. I have said right from the get go – “I would never want to be a politician” – but as I have been watching the campaigns unfold – I have come to the uncomfortable realization that all of us pastor type folk are indeed in somewhat of a political campaign ourselves.
Paul Martin stated in his speech that political life is taxing – it has its ups and downs. So true with a life in ministry as well. We feel the pull to be saying the “right things” and doing what we “should” be doing. There is the strain of a life on the “platform” – when for some reason people feel that it is their right and privilege to scrutinize and evaluate every aspect of your life as if you somehow belong to them. We get out there and schmooze in the crowds, somehow hoping to win the favour of the people. And when we fall behind in the polls in a “certain riding” we go out and shake hands and kiss babies and do what we can do to swing the popular vote. There are also the feelings of regret when you are unable to fulfill some of the promises enthusiastically proclaimed during the campaign – or candidating process. But how are you to know, as a young inexperienced, idealistic seminarian, excited about all that you think that you can do? How do you know, until you are actually elected what kind of opposition you will face, and what kind of strengths and weaknesses that you will bring to the table? Yes, it is a politician’s life – there is no doubt about it.
And though there are big smiles all around – I have to wonder – how do these men REALLY feel about the life they have chosen for themselves? The life that they feel called to. How do their wives feel? What are they really like behind closed doors, when they are in the safety and sanctity of their homes with their families? How do I really feel about it? I must admit that there is a strong inner pull to yell “stop the bus” - to jump off the political platform and throw the campaign to the wind. I long to not have to worry about saying the right things. I don’t want to be concerned with sending out the right message. And showing up at all the things that I “should” show up at. I just want to be me. To be authentically ME. To be recognized not as a politician – but as someone who is working out her salvation with fear and trembling just like the rest of the people. I want to be KNOWN for who I am, and not for what I can do. I feel called to this life. I am not wanting to leave it – but I would like to leave behind…the politics. I was not meant to be a politician. And I guess the journey that I am on is to figure out this: how do I be in a political arena, and not be a politician? How do I step off the platform? How can I be “OK” even when others are not voting in my direction? How can I get away from standing at the podium when all I want to do is stand shoulder to shoulder with the people - to together figure out this journey of life with all its ups and downs and twists and free falls?
Harv says that I don’t have to figure it all out now. And I know he’s right. I think that it’s enough that I am pondering and questioning and figuring. And one of these days I’ll get it. And maybe then you will see me hobnobbing with the other young politicians (pastor's wives) helping them make their campaign less of a campaign and more of a life. Now that’s a thought that gets my vote.
The week is half over and there has been no time for blogging. How can you tell that it is getting close to Christmas? Things are getting a little crazy for us church folk. What with all the banquets and carolling, hamper deliveries and programs, it is a wonder that we find time for card writing, Christmas baking, house decorating, and the portrayal of a general sense of merriment wherever we go. I am learning balance this year as I am ruthlessly slashing my list of hope-full accomplishments to only the things that are realistic. Well I am trying to slash my list anyways. Old habits die hard.
Speaking of dying, we met with our life insurance guy this morning. He was driving by and stopped to meet with us. Just checking in I guess. Just to see how we were feeling? I told him I was feeling a little stressed, and asked him how much my rates would go up if I took up smoking. He thought that was pretty funny. Harv did not. It is a little sobering meeting about stuff like that. Harv is under strict instruction that he is not allowed to die before me. I read once of Piglet saying to Pooh that if Pooh lived to be one hundred and two, then he would like to live to be one hundred and one so that he wouldn’t have to live a single moment without him. Very sweet. But really wouldn’t it be better to die on the same day so that neither of them would have to suffer? Isn’t Piglet being a little selfish?
I think about this way more than I should. About death, not about Piglet. I often fear what I would do if something happened to Harv. It is amazing how much someone can fill your life after only 5 years. I almost forget that there was a time when he wasn’t in my life at all. I used to fear that I would never get married. I thought that I would be alone forever. Now I fear that Harv will die and I will be left alone forever. I know that this is why God reminds us that nothing is constant except Him, and that He is the only one that will never ever leave us. I find it hard to set aside my fears and hang on to this fact. Is that why people get life insurance? To help ease some of the fears and worry’s of the “what if’s”? Does that mean that by getting life insurance you are not trusting God for your future? Oh my, this could be opening a can of worms. And all I meant to do was just drop in today and say Hi after a week on not writing. It is just amazing where my mind can take me. I think that I better quit while I am ahead. And besides I have some Christmas baking to do. Just a few of the things that I crossed off my list, but have every intention of doing anyways!! Have a good day all!!
At the risk of being accused of mood swings, I have determined in my heart to change the mood of this posting after the dark and dismal entry of last week. But actually it is not a stretch, because I am feeing a little more positive about all things. So the song from little Orphan Annie and Daddy Warbucks rings true…the sun will come out tomorrow.
My hubby took me away to the “Big City” as a late birthday celebration, and also I think he felt he needed an immediate call to action regarding my malaise. There we spent our day milling around in the malls and shops, drinking in all the sights and sounds and hustle and bustle of Christmas. I made it through the day with the purchase of only ONE snowman, so I am applauding myself at my great restraint.
Harv had planned a great surprise and had arranged to meet most-loved friends Doug and Carol for a supper extravaganza. I felt a little inkling in my heart that something was afoot. Most loved hubby was straying from his paths of predictability. I picked up on this and pounced like a jungle cat. I tortured him until he broke. He crumbled like a Breton cracker. To be fair to him, I gave him no choice but to sing like a canary or lie. And he’s a pastor people…there are rules about that sort of thing. Hubby was most miffed at me, but I was too busy happily looking forward to the joyous meeting with dear friends to concern myself with remorse and contrition.
We met at East Side Mario’s were bread was broken, soda pop flowed like fountains, and the Italian feast set before us did nothing in helping me achieve my goal of a narrower girth. It was excellent. But even more than the feast, the fellowship was what filled us up. It was the perfect and most wonderful combination of laughter, “catch up chatting” with far away friends, and the sharing of heart stuff…the stuff that digs a little deeper. We were definitely blessed, so thanks Doug and Carol. It was a pleasure as always.
What is it about good friends that can change a perspective from bummed-out to bliss? I have been blessed with friends that can immediately make me feel better and more able to face life simply by being in their presence. I am so thankful. Thankful for the times where I have been lifted up when I was feeling so down, thankful for the deep my-stomach-hurts sort of laughter, thankful for the good talks, and for comfortability in complete silence. I am thankful for a phone call when I wondered if anyone cared, a knowing look when we both just “get it”. I am thankful for memories to laugh at and movie lines to quote that seem just so fitting. I am thankful for my dutch-blitz-and-dixie-chicks-girls – I miss you!! I am thankful for traditions and things that we do with each other, just because we always do that with each other. I am thankful to know that there are those out there that love me, even though I am so pathetic at keeping in touch. I am thankful that even though this is a lonely job, we still have friends across the provinces who think about us from time to time. I am thankful that God give us friends. And I am thankful for Doug and Carol who reminded me last night off all these things that I am thankful for from all of you.
Do you feel this sudden urge to break into song? No? Well maybe it's just me...
