OK. So... My mission for the last two months has been to post a blog entry. Obviously, this was my Mission Impossible and Tom Cruise did not intervene and pull a miracle - until tonight. The boys are out of town on a camping tour of duty and mom decided to host Keep the Kritters night and took BOTH girls. Part of me is anxiously awaiting the phone call to move out for a rescue mission and pick up a homesick Annie. Part of me is anxiously awaiting the scene that I'll find in the morning when I pick the girls up. Remember that scene from The Cat in the Hat movie where Thing 1 and Thing 2 hang the babysitter up in the closet? Yeah, that's sort of what I expect to find. My point? It's midnight and I'm sitting here communing with Clairol (actually, it's Feria because I've moved up in the world) and I figured this would be the perfect time to post this entry. If you've ever colored your own hair, you know that you're sort of limited on the activities you can perform while the chemicals eat at your brain.
At this point, I'm not sure where to even start. Let me just go back to the Genesis of this whole new chapter and introduce you to Ray. (I feel sort of like I'm the announcer for that weird dating game). Anyway, the first thing that attracted me to Ray was his incredible ability to NOT get his knickers in a knot. I'm convinced that an alien space ship could land in the front yard, use a laser beam to saw his arm off, and he wouldn't ever raise his voice. Can you just imagine what this sort of stability brings into the asylum? His patience and even temper is like an anchor that holds everyone down. He's sort of like the internal gravity in the house these days! Now, while he might have untold amounts of patience, grace, and understanding, he will not hesitate to go completely Terminator on anyone who messes with his family. After a few rough days at work, I began to wonder if I was about to find myself in that scene from Lampoon's Christmas Vacation where cousin Eddie takes off in the RV to nab the boss who enrolled everyone in the Jelly of the Month club. Hmmmm.... The thought of the boss man with a bow on his head in my living room... OK. Moving on. Ray's intelligence is the other thing that I'm actually still trying to adjust to. He is a certifiable genius (not kidding) and knows everything about everything. He's taught everything from wilderness survival in the Adirondacks to classes on how to have an effective ministry. He works in the marketing field (sort of kind of) but he deals with software all day long that probably could take over the world. I'll admit that his intelligence still sort of intimidates me. I'm used to being the smarty pants. I'm not used to having someone around who knows more than I do. It can be quite humbling sometimes when I'm trying to BS my way out of something! I always get caught! It's in those moments that I resort to name calling and lovingly call him, "Monk." Beyond his intellectual prowess, his faith and integrity sealed the deal. He simply does NOT see gray. It's either right or wrong. You can imagine what a soothing balm this characteristic was to my wounded heart. And his faith... it simply defines everything he does and every single part of who he is. He doesn't find his worth in the brand of car he drives, the organizations he belongs to, or even in the clothes he wears (ok - there have been a few skirmishes on this topic of bachelor clothing vs. married man clothing, but we're finding compromises). He is a man who fully relies on Christ and doesn't seek things of the world to define him. Once again, this characteristic has opened so many doors for communication between us. I could do an entire post on how this one simple characteristic makes marriage wonderful. The bottom line of this whole "Meet Ray" session is that he exhibits characteristics that I was too faithless to ever ask God to provide in another spouse. In fact, I'd basically told God that I'd prefer to be a single crazy cat lady for the rest of my days than endure a marriage full of compromises. Ha. As usual, oh me of little faith...
So, now that you sort of know the players in this whole show, I can better answer the question that everyone is asking, "How's married life?" Well, married life is very different the second time around. Have you ever met someone who thinks having a baby will save their marriage or having a newer house or car will solve their problems? Let me just say that marrying for a second time does not heal wounds from the first marriage. In fact, it magnifies those wounds. So, if you marry someone who'd rather cover up those wounds that keep surfacing because it makes him uncomfortable or someone who wants to simply slap a Band-Aid on the wound and not tend to the scars that might be left behind, you'd better get ready for another round of divorce court. (Was that Judge Judy or Judge Wapner)? But, seriously folks. The danger of wiping out the second time around is huge. I didn't have any idea how warped my view of marriage had become due to hundreds of factors. Ray spent the first several weeks looking like he was practicing for tornado drills and ducking and covering as I realized how many hurts I still had. He would do one inconsequential thing that would set up a domino effect in me and I would end up pulling back into my shell like a turtle. After a few rounds of this horrible "game," Ray started braving my mood swings and calling me out for not telling him about the landmines that were being triggered throughout my heart and soul. And let me just tell you that some of the triggers were completely ridiculous! One night, I saw a FB message alert pop up on his phone from a girl. For an entire day, I brewed and stewed over it. By the next day, I'd let my imagination run wild and I had crafted quite a tale of what I thought was going on. Oddly enough, he happened to mention the message the next day and it was something completely innocent. But, those wounds of being left for another woman are still there. Yes, they are scabbing over and beginning to heal, but the slightest bump can scape part of the scab away to reveal the raw emotion underneath. There have been many incidents like this that serve as a reminder that I'm simply still under construction. Time and time again, I've put Ray to the test. And time and time again, he has scooped me up, gooped me up with Neosporin, and lovingly bandaged my wounds. But, he commits to memory every single wound that he finds and continues to exude nothing but gentleness when he's close to those areas. Like I said, without a spouse who's willing to work through all of the unknown hurt and bitterness that bubbles up without warning in response to the strangest things, there's no hope for a second marriage.
Obviously, Ray treats me like a princess, but he extends the same sort of love for the kids, as well. The learning curve was pretty steep when it came to trying to squish everyone into a nice neat family mold, so we just didn't even try. Ray and I talked at length (for hours and hours) about how we'd parent / control / outsmart the kids. Basically, I had to admit that I'd been way too lackadaisical when it came to behavior. For the last several years, I'd simply tried to keep the peace and make sure that everyone was fed, clothed, and semi-emotionally stable. I think this is the plight of most single moms. It's simply called survival! But, Ray began to point out areas which he felt like might need some improvement. (Have I mentioned that I don't take constructive criticism well)? He felt like Annie should probably sit in her seat at the dinner table instead of sitting on the table or standing in her chair. He felt like Grant should do something more than carry his phone from his room to the table and back again. And, he was convinced that Dasha simply needed some security and stability. This is where we started. I led and he followed. We did that for a while. Once the kids understood that he would not snap and start yelling and that his patience was basically never ending (except in the case of disrespect), the kids started looking to him for approval. Ok. I'm going to admit that I don't know how people "blend" families. This is hard enough with three related kids. I can't imagine doing this whole blending thingy with two different sets of kids. I have nothing but complete respect for families who pull it off effectively! But, we recognize that this is a process that's going to take months and probably years, so we just stay in communication with each other and continue to look for signs that they're about to stage a mutiny. It's nice to have someone to watch my back now.
Beyond the issues of changing the people dynamics within the house, we've had quite an interesting time with the day to day things, as well. Remember, Ray hasn't had kids. He's spent plenty of time with his nieces and nephews, but he's never had to get a crew of them dressed and out of the house by 6:20 a.m. He actually gave me a hard time about laying everyone's clothes out at night. After several weeks of school, I think he understands now. Poor guy. He also didn't care for me laying his clothes out, and he was even less thrilled about me ironing them. His theory was that permanent press simply meant that after a few hours of body heat, the wrinkles in the clothes would fall out. So, basically, he'd be wrinkle free by 10:00 a.m. each morning. Um, yeah... In his defense, I simply can't imagine how overwhelming this transition has been for him. He was used to going home to his cat. Now, he comes home to a cage full of apes! He ate when he was hungry. He went to bed when he wanted. He spent his money how he wanted. Now, it all revolves around the apes! I constantly check in with him to make sure that he's ok, but he continues to say that the whole situation is a blessing to him. (Frankly, I'm incredibly appreciative of his thankfulness but I also have to question his sanity)! About a week into marriage, I was in a funk and was standing at the stove cooking something. I knew Ray was at the table behind me, but I was trying to leave him alone and give him some space. I heard him get up and start rummaging through the cabinet. I figured that he was looking for a snack. Then I heard the sound of a million Cheerios raining down onto the tile floor. As I turned, I saw the contents of the mega family-sized box of Cheerios on the floor and Ray simply standing there. I held my breath. Would he snap? Would he simply walk out? What would he do? He went for the broom. He swept up the spillage and then went back to the table. I think I was still holding my breath. Then, he called me to the table. Crap. This was one of those moments when my imagination took hold of a single event, applied history, and morphed the whole scenario into another nightmare. I just knew that he was going to calmly tell me that he couldn't handle the craziness of the house, the fact the kids couldn't even put the cereal back into the cabinet correctly, and my stewing. But, no. With tears in his eyes, he simply said, "I feel like a stranger in a foreign land." Well. That pretty much sums it up. That one event sort of opened up the communication lines for us and gave me a glimpse into what he must be feeling. He was exhausted with trying to fit in. The Cheerios incident was sort of a turning point for me. That night, I learned that Ray was human. And, I haven't bought any more Cheerios.
Now, there have been some other logistical issues that don't carry the same sort of weight as we've morphed into a family of five. Sleeping arrangements were nothing shy of awkward for the first several weeks. The kids had never seen another man in "my" bedroom (Ray didn't even go upstairs until the week prior to the wedding to transfer some of his clothes) and Annie sure didn't understand that Ray would be sleeping on "her" side of the bed. She doesn't really have any memories of Eric being in the house so this whole scenario was new to her. Then, to top it off, every time Ray changed shirts, she'd scream about seeing him "naked." She's simply never been around guys and didn't understand that it was ok for guys to show their chests. Geez. Explaining the double standard to her was a bit of a chore and I'm not sure that she bought it. So, if you ever see her running around in public with her shirt off, just look the other way and know that we'll being paying a counselor to set her straight in years to come. Grant also found the sleeping arrangements a bit strange. Each night, he'd come in and crash in the middle of the bed in between us. It was definitely his way of expressing his discomfort. But, I think we've moved passed all of that. Now, the issues are simply between Ray and myself. I've had the entire king sized bed to myself for the last several years. I'd taken up sleeping smack dab in the middle of the bed with a bazillion pillows on both sides of me. Ray (aka. Monk) has counted the spindles on the headboard and now refers to the middle of the bed as the "nine line" because the ninth spindle is right in the middle. Many nights, I'll hear him say, "You're over the nine line." That's my cue to move over so he can stop clinging to the edge of the bed for dear life. Laundry is the other oddity that we're still working on. I turn things right side out before putting them away. He folds things up the way they come out of the dryer. He rolls his drawers and socks. I fold. I hang things up with the hook toward the left. He wants it done opposite because he uses the right side of the closet. These are all little things that have become laughable moments on this crazy journey. Someone should create a check list for newlyweds that would cover all of these crazy nuances so you could at least discuss them with the marriage counselor prior to the wedding! Hey, you never know! Those Martha Stewart-types might find some of that stuff to be a deal breaker!
So, that's sort of a long answer to everyone's question, "How's married life?" Married life is great when it's handled with care, patience, and laughter. We've managed to get out of town at least one weekend a month in order to make sure we're having time to communicate without the apes throwing bananas and demanding tire swings. I'm completely amazed every day at how perfect Ray is for our entire family. Who would have ever believed that someone would be capable of coming into the asylum and engaging in all of the ridiculousness and even create a new level of chaos! I continue to stand in awe of this precious gift that He has given us.
Good night (morning), all.
Oh, and if you were wondering, I did take a break and washed that gray right out of my hair. However, I'm now sporting a weird reddish color on my hair. Maybe it's time to seek professional help.
He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?"
Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves,
and it was completely calm.
Matthew 8:26
Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves,
and it was completely calm.
Matthew 8:26
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