Thursday, July 25, 2013

Ice Cream and Absolutes

When Jeremy and I were registering for wedding gifts, we held hands, wandering around in a happy haze, knowing the whole of Target was wide open to us. We could get whatever we wanted. The bullseye was our oyster. We talked excitedly, discussing where we would place the toaster, which shower curtain and towels to get, and if the coffee maker was really worth it. It was fantastic. 
Until we got to the small appliances. Jeremy stopped dead in his tracks in front of the Sunbeam homemade ice cream maker, forcing me to take a few steps backward or let go of his hand. 
"This," he said. "We need one of these." 
"Uh. What?" I asked. 
"I need this ice cream maker. We're getting it," he said, aiming the gun at the price tag.
"Wait,  no!" I shouted, holding my hand in front of the laser beam. "We're not getting that. What would we do with an ice cream maker? Where would we put it? It's enormous!"
I saw Jeremy set his jaw stubbornly, and I knew I was in for it. Ok, I thought. That's fine. I can dig my heels in too.
"My grandad always makes homemade ice cream. I'm from Fox Hill. It's what we do. I'm going to do it too." 
This went on for over ten minutes, escalating to a near fever pitch. At that point I threw my hands up in the air and yelled, "You know what?! I just-- I can't do this. I can't believe we're doing this! I'm not going to do this. I have to walk away from you right now." And I did. I left and walked around Target for another 15 minutes, fuming. I can't believe I'm going to marry this man. What am I thinking?? 
I won that fight. I don't know why it was so important. That was ten years ago now. This weekend, Jeremy and I are celebrating our ten year anniversary. I want to shout it from the rooftops. 
We did it. We made it. In spite of fights in Target over ice cream makers. In spite of all the people who told us we wouldn't make it this far, and those who tried to talk us out of it. And yes, there were quite a few. More than there should have been, that's for sure. But God knew better than they or I ever could have. 
I like to say, when people ask me about my relationship with Jeremy, "Jeremy was never my idea of perfect. But that's not what I needed. I had my perfect, and he wrecked my heart. Jeremy is God's perfect for me." He drives me crazy. He makes me question my sanity on a weekly basis, makes me want to scream and throw things. But he makes me laugh. He makes me safe. He makes me proud. 

I know that ten years isn't it. I know we have a long way to go still. Decades more road ahead of us. But ten years is something to be proud of, and God knows I'm as proud of this as anything I've ever accomplished. 

Jeremy likes to make use of absolutes in an argument. "You never do....", or "you always say...." So many times I tell him to stop using absolutes. They're often untrue. There's no such thing as "always" and "never" when it comes to an argument. You can't tell me I always leave the bread out on the counter. Because sometimes I don't. And you can't say I never plug your electric razor back in, because sometimes I do. 
But here are a few absolutes I don't mind using: Happy anniversary, Babe. I will always love you, always be glad I didn't listen to the naysayers, always have your back. I will never leave you, never remember past wrongs, never hit you when you're down. I'll always encourage you to be the best version of yourself, whether you like it or not. I'll never let you sink so deep into a funk that you forget who you are, what your calling is, and how worthy you truly are. 

And to prove all of that, in honor of our ten year anniversary, I'll even let you win for once. I hope you love your new ice cream maker as much as I love you. 

-M 


Saturday, July 20, 2013

Summer Swift

Apparently I'm no good at posting blogs unless I'm in the back of a car, bumping down back country roads, or flying down interstates with trees and mountains and farmlands whipping by in a blur. That explains my miserable track record lately. Maybe I should hire someone to drive me around while I sit and write.

Summer has been moving swiftly and slowly here at The Box House. In fits and starts, some days drifting along at a snail's pace, others speeding by before I can even blink. And here we are, halfway through it.

I'm trying to live in each moment fully, whether it's a slow moment or a fast one. Trying to take note of the freckles on the kids' noses, the newly acquired tan lines and mosquito bites, the smiles and laughs and even the quarrels. Oh, how I love it all. How I want to tuck it into my heart and hold it there, to mold it into a mural of memories, lovely and tumultuous and sweet. Summer is so many things. So many styles and forms of art. Sharp, straight neons. Swirling, twirling pastels; rich and vibrant splashes of in your face color. Dancing and fireworks and water and salt, grass and sky and sand.

I'm watching my children grow into summer. I see their legs growing longer, their skin growing browner, their eyes shining. I'm watching them grow together. I think that's my favorite part: watching the memories they're making being made. Is this how my parents watched me? Did they look at me with vision stretching far into the future, trying to guess which memories would stick with me, trying to imagine the conversations that would take place between my siblings and myself, the ones that would make us laugh, make us groan, the ones that would spin out into a dozen different do you remembers? And as they watched, did they live a strange double reality, like I have been? Caught in between my own childhood and theirs, a no man's land full of laughter and lightning bugs.

Last year I wrote about the shift that caused me to finally love summer (here and here). I am grateful to find that I didn't shift back. The love is still there. The deep, abiding joy in these times of fullness, of heat and blazing sun, is still there. Sweating slightly, it's true, but even so, there.
Summer moves so swiftly, in spite of its laid back pace. If we aren't careful, we'll miss it. I missed it for so many years, counting my days quickly, skimming over them to get to fall. Let's slow our hearts and minds down this season. Let's blink less, holding our eyes wide open as long as possible, to take in every sight we can. Let's talk softer, laugh louder, jump higher, dive deeper, hug harder.

In spite of the swift, let's take it slow.

-M

{{ I rather liked the idea of doing a photo dump at the end of each of my blogs. Hopefully I'll get around to posting enough to make it a weekly occurrence, and not so much monthly as it is this particular instance. Some of these are from my iPhone, and some are from my Nikon, with pictures from the 4th, beach days, Busch Gardens, and just playing around.}}

 The 4th in Fox Hill





 The girls with cousin Cassie



 Fire jumper




 






 Busch Gardens
 Atleigh & cousin Austin

 {{The log flume was shut down}}


 Handful of cousins







 A girls only beach day with friends Jess & Leah








 Chloe & Leah
 Learning to float



 Some of my favorite girls















 And if you've been wondering where Ashton's been...
 Ashton was blessed with a full junior golf set...

 ... And he is very frustrated that he can't just pick up a club and magically know what he's doing.

But practice eventually makes perfect (or at least better)...

 ... And at least he's always photo worthy.