Storage Snafu

Picture this scene: Living room of one bedroom apartment. Two bikes. Set of golf clubs. Box of golf balls. Bag of baseball bats. Bag of tennis rackets. Treadmill. Ok, so I made that last one up, but that would have fit right in to our living-room-fastly-becoming-fitness-arena.

Now, this scene crept upon me slowly. May and June are wildly busy for me with youth mission trips, so I have been out of town a lot in the past month. Before I left, the bikes appeared in our apartment. These bikes were going to be on the porch before I got back from my first trip, or so I was told. But alas, upon my return, not only were there two bikes, but that is when the golf clubs appeared. No big deal, I'm going out of town again in three days, I thought. So I left for the next trip, and when I returned - the small apartment living room/fitness club had been born.

I love that my husband is athletic. I love that no matter what sport he picks up, he dominates. Seriously, I pray that our children get his athletic ability (and my radiant beauty and supreme intelligence of course).

We recently started the process of beginning to look at starting to think about maybe possibly buying a home. It's a ways in the future, but we're starting to look and see what we like, what we don't like, what we need, etc. Must have on the list: plenty of storage. I can't wait until we can live in a place where all of our stuff, including his sports equipment, can live happily ever after in its very own space (maybe even a garage, dream big!). Until then, he has successfully removed everything from the living room, and we can't believe how spacious it now feels. Like a brand new place. The question remains... where in the world did he hide it all? Still a mystery to me, but at least the living room is clear :)

Reflection Time...

So this marriage thing? Not a piece of cake.

Learning how to live together, share our finances, and spend all of our time together has had its ups and downs. We have shared many moments of fun and laughter, and we have certainly had our share of disagreements over these past couple months. I suppose that when you spend twenty three plus years living for yourself, it is not the easiest transition in the world to begin putting another person first.

There is a book called Sacred Marriage that poses the question: "What if God designed marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy?"

In marriage we are harshly confronted with the reality of our own sinfulness. Our tendency to look out only for our own needs is met with the call to love, honor, and cherish our spouse. And I know that for me, that really brings all of my junk to the surface. Marriage has revealed to me how selfish, stubborn, and immature I can really be.

I believe fully that God designed marriage to be a reflection of His love. The commitment, the faithfulness, the laying down of your self for another person - all a beautiful picture of God's love for us. And we are purified to become more like Him when we allow marriage to change us and grow us, when we kick our selfish tendencies to the curb and remember our commitment to love our spouses more than we love ourselves.

Can I just confess how hard that is for me sometimes? I love being right (even when I'm wrong). I love doing my own thing and having my own stuff. I love being in control. But now that I'm married... do I love these things more than I love my husband?

Marriage makes us better. The benefits far outweigh the sacrifice. We are made stronger, as a team and as individuals. As the years go by, the good times and the bad will bring us closer together, and as we seek God in our marriage, we will be closer to Him as well.

He's definitely on the nice list

I wonder if all men are funny about gift giving, or if it's just my husband.

To give him credit, he courageously went where no man should ever go... Christmas shopping with an emotional woman on the Saturday morning before Christmas. My mom was diagnosed with cancer on Friday, and the news was still really fresh. So he, being the great husband he is, volunteered to stand beside me as I cried through the Snuggie aisle at Bed Bath and Beyond.

So, in classic man and woman form... the clash of shopping style ensued. I meandered through the aisles of TJ Maxx, not having anything in particular in mind, but hoping something would just "jump out at me" for someone on our list. As you probably know, this is against everything a man is. This blows their mind. Mom says if I keep taking him shopping with me, he'll end up one of those glazed-over men you find sitting on a bench in the mall. They could have been there for hours. Or days. All you know is that they are miserable and are fantasizing about being at home with a beer in hand watching ESPN. Wow, now THAT'S not stereotyping. But anyway, at one point in my perusing this conversation occurred...

"Natalie there's nothing here, can we leave?"
"I'm not done looking."
"This just isn't the place, we're not going to find anything here. Let's go."
"How do you know? We've only gone down two aisles."
"I just have a feeling. Let's go."

A feeling? About TJ Maxx? You can find some bargain-priced gems in that store, honey. You just don't KNOW.

This also fascinated me: Every time I paused in question over which size, what color, etc. etc. to get of a particular present... cue husband to whip out his cell phone. "Let's just call (insert giftee) and ask them which one they want." To which I (ever so sweetly) rip the phone out of his hand and reply, "You're ridiculous." You see, I believe ever so fervently in the element of surprise for Christmas. Sure, my dad knows that I am going to get him a pair of slippers every single year. Never fails. Default Daddy gift. But do I tell him that's what he's getting? Absolutely not. It's the principle of the thing.

After several hours of following me around... I got progressively more and more stressed and more and more emotional, so he won the Best Husband of the Year Award by volunteering to do the rest of the Christmas shopping himself.

Including... his own presents. Yes. Against all I just reported above.

So last night we decided to go ahead and celebrate our Christmas together before spending the holidays with family. Somehow still as excited as a kid on Christmas morning, he handed me a bag full of stuff that he had bought for his own stocking and raced out to put together my stocking. I opened the bag and guiltily stuffed his stocking with the items, feeling terrible for not choosing them myself, but so grateful he let me go home and spend time with my mom instead. He came back in, still way more excited than necessary, considering the fact that he had no Christmas surprises. As I began revealing gifts from my stocking, I quickly realized that his excitement was stemming not from presents for himself, but from sheer delight in watching me open my stocking and enjoy the gifts he had chosen for me.

This certainly is not the first Christmas I expected, but I certainly couldn't ask for a more supportive and wonderful husband. Even if he will never be invited shopping with me again. :)

You're on my half!

Ask my college roommates, if anyone sleeps like a log, it is me. My head hits the pillow and I drift ever so easily into a glorious state of deep, relaxing sleep. (This is also how I received the nickname "banchee" in college... they found out what I was like if woken from my much loved slumber). I love to sprawl out, legs and arms extended, and enjoy the full span of my bed as I snooze.

Enter... husband. On the honeymoon we enjoyed the benefits of a king size bed - plenty of room for both of us to spread out and sleep easy. Yeah... not so much in our quaint little suburban apartment. Night two of squeezing into our queen size bed made for some hilarity last night... conversation began as follows:

"Scoot OVER! You have SO much room over there!"
"Whatever I'm about to fall off over here, YOU scoot over!"

So, we did what any mature, married couple would do. We counted the wooden slats on the headboard and divided it by two.

"There are SIXTEEN slats, one two three four five six seven EIGHT - you are OVER your half!!!"

Now I know you're probably shaking your head in disapproval... aren't they supposed to snuggle all night long? They're newlyweds for goodness sake! Well those of you who are married... oh you know what I'm talking about. Touching is only ok for the first five minutes, and then when it is sleep time... you better get out of my half of the bed.

I have to learn how to sleep more straight, or get husband a nice twin bed to sleep in. :)

Diary of a Newlywed

Rings exchanged, cake cut, bouquet tossed, garter thrown, bubbles blown... seven days in sunny Jamaica... and now tossed back into reality. Except reality is incredibly unreal.

As I sit here on my (ahem... our) sofa, folding laundry (including my husband's underwear?!) next to a massive pile of wedding presents, I can't help but reflect upon the fact that life is now, as I've known it, changed forever. And yes, this change is great. God intended us for marriage. But there is a lot of changing, a lot of compromising, that is necessary for our marital bliss to be, well, blissful.

So here I am, in the blogging world, ready to share my experiences in this new stage of life. Because, let's face it, this is going to be hilarious.