Tuesday, November 24, 2009

A clearer vision...literally.

Thanks to my mom, I had the opportunity to attend the last home Husker football game this last weekend. The first thing you should know is that I haven't been to a game since I graduated from college. The second thing you should know is that, although I went to most home games in college, I remember very few.

Don't get me wrong, I have only one regret with those days. I remember going to the last Notre Dame game, and I remember that I couldn't see clearly. And it was all because I drank a little too much. And we left early to drink a little more. As stupid as it was, I cherish those days. The feeling of only being responsible for yourself and no one else. Of doing what you want, when you want and you're the only to blame if it doesn't work out.

But this weekend showed me something else. That I truly enjoyed the game. I loved hanging out with my mom while most of the people around us were drunk or had been drinking. I watched all four quarters of the game. Only got up from seat once. And when we left, I didn't have any sort of urge to hit the bars.

I think that's a pretty good sign that I'm ready to grow up a little and be more excited about having all the responsibilities in my life. It's nice to be needed...and these days I wouldn't want to have it any other way.

Oh...and the Huskers won. Perfect end to a perfect day.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Unexpected support.

I was reminded this weekend of how easy it is to feel forgotten about and lonely...and of how wrong we are. My husband surprised me on our anniversary with a birthday party. My entire family and most of my friends were there. It was pretty incredible. And my guilt complex immediately kicked in as they were singing the birthday song.

My guilt was based on the fact that so many had driven an hour or two. Many had to leave early for that same reason. And let's face it, the town I live in isn't exactly 'cool.'

But I soon realized that it didn't matter to any of them and they just wanted to make sure that I know they care. There were quite a few people there who I didn't really know if we had crossed that bridge to being friends from just acquaintances. It was by far the best birthday present I could ever receive...getting to relive a week the year I was 22 would be a close second.

So thanks everyone for loving me even if I'm 30 and tired and crabby...

Friday, November 20, 2009

I do.

Five years ago today I walked down the aisle of the church I was raised in and spoke those two famous words. And I can confidently say today that I was completely scared. I was unsure. I had doubt.

The first year was tough, not only because I got pregnant three months into our marriage. Not just because we bought a house. Not because we hadn't lived together before getting married. I think it was tough because I had a picture of what being married meant or should mean. And I was wrong.

Five years later, I can't guarantee we'll be together for fifty years, let alone five more. And I'm comfortable saying that. There's no pressure to make our marriage into a 1950's TV show. It just doesn't work that way and quite frankly I don't want it to. I like that we argue. I like having my own life outside of 'Corey and Tina.' And I think that makes me a better wife.

Today marriage means that I'm allowing someone to share my life with me. That I want to be a part of their life. We may not share every detail of our day or our dreams or thoughts, and that's okay. What matters is that we have a deeper love for one another that is unlike how I feel about anyone else. We choose to love eachother above all else and we have made a decision to put eachother first when it's necessary (and sometimes when it's not). My marriage is my two kids and my step-daughter. They are pieces of this bond and they remind me of my vows every single day.

I believe that we all marry for different reasons. We choose the person we want to 'spend the rest of our life with' for different reasons. And our love for that person changes and evolves as we change and evolve. And I honestly believe that sometimes what tears a marriage apart is the pressure we put on those vows and that day.

I learned a very valuable lesson during our Marriage Encounter weekend prior to our wedding. A couple said that we choose to love, and we make that decision, either consiously or not, every day. And now more than ever, I believe they're right.

Today I choose love.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Keeping it together.

Yesterday at an industry function, I was complimented on being very fashionable. I was flattered and appreciated the fact that I've heard it more than once...and it's always followed up by something along the lines of, "You have two small children. How do you get to work looking so put together every day?"

I never really know how to respond. I don't consider myself an overly organized person. I'm not the supermom who makes breakfast every morning and has backpacks lined up at the door, etc. And those mornings I do get up early, it's to run to help clear my head so I'm not a raving lunatic.

Comments like this have caused me to analyze my morning rituals in the hope of realizing that I am one of those incredible women who have it all together and are conquering the world.

But I'm not. I'm pretty average. I need exactly one hour and fifteen minutes in the morning to get myself and my kids out the door. I need to be able to flat iron my hair and change my clothes two or three times. And I need my husband to take my coffee and computer out to my car for me. If these things don't happen, I'm a wreck...if not on the outside, on the inside.

But I do appreciate people thinking that I have my life figured out and organized. The truth is, I like to leave my house feeling put together; it helps me maintain some feeling of youth and not run down by stress and the day to day drama. I do it to help convince myself that I've got it all figured out.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Happiness is not a fish that you can catch.

It's the line to one of my favorite songs. And I think it's pretty spot-on. But beyond the fact that happiness isn't really about luck, what does it really mean? Is there a singular definition or do we create it based on our life experiences, wants and needs?

If someone walked up to me today asking if I'm happy, I'm sure I'd say yes, although to what degree, I'm unsure. Looking in from the outside, I have all I could ever want or need. I have a terrific family...a boy and a girl and a husband. I have a nice little house in a nice little town. I have a terrific job that I actually have a college degree in. And I'm about 10 pounds shy of where I was the day I graduated from high school.

But am I beside myself with happiness-doubtful. Maybe it's the pessimist in all of us or the urge to achieve more, own more and 'be' more. For some reason I'm not really satisfied.

So what would make me truly happy? Beats me. Can you love something or someone even more? Probably. But you won't find out unless you try. And that seems to be where I'm at a crossroads with myself. Logically I should be happy and not mess with the perfect little balance I work so hard to maintain. But the adventurous, you-only-getta-experience-life-once side of me wants to venture out and push for more.

On the endless quest for happiness, are we wiser to be thankful for what we have an not risk losing a certain level of happiness, and just enjoy the ride...or should we go out on a limb for that chance to experience a level of happiness we haven't yet felt?

On second thought, it seems like it really is a fish to me...