Showing posts with label Marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marriage. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The Forklift Dream

I had a dream, and in the dream Scott and I were quarreling.  I was being persnickety, allowing myself to say unkind things, not checking myself.  In the dream, I knew that I was being difficult.  I looked at Scott and felt a surge of love for him, and I knew I could fix the argument, end the bickering, and I wanted to.  But then, because it was a dream, Scott hopped up on a forklift to show me how he had learned to drive it.

And I looked away.  In that moment, I knew that I had crossed a line and that I wouldn't be able to so easily erase the tension.  A terrible sense of dread spread over me.  I knew Scott was hurt that I hadn't watched him drive the forklift, and hadn't appreciated his skill, and I couldn't go back and re-do that moment.  I wanted to go back and be a better person!

I woke up with a rotten feeling and was instantly relieved that the forklift incident had been a dream.  I couldn't go back to sleep and started thinking about the meaning of it all.  My mind had come up with a ludicrous, yet understandable analogy to real life.  In relationships, it is all too easy to let your efforts wane, and to allow yourself to throw out those barbs, to blame little things on the other person, and to simply stop trying.  It doesn't take long before you're not even appreciating the other person's ability to drive a forklift.  It's not just in marriage.  We all navigate numerous relationships every day.  Suddenly someone says something we don't like, or does something we don't approve of, or lets their efforts slip a little bit, and instead of leaning into the work of the relationship, we're letting it go to rot, and probably blaming the other person.

Scott and I are lucky that we're friends and we love each other and we have figured out how to keep our relationship on solid ground.  We rarely argue about anything of significance.  Yet I do quite often fail to acknowledge in words Scott's talents and efforts.  Every day, I pray and give thanks for Scott and his talent and hard work, and the love he shows to our kids and the time he spends with them.  And then I never tell Scott.

In effect, I turn away from the forklift at the very moment Scott is demonstrating his skill.  I thought about that early this morning, when the front door quietly opened and closed and Scott stepped out into the bracingly cold dark, to go and earn a living for his family.  He wasn't going to drive a forklift, for which I have to admit I'm grateful, (it's cold in those warehouses!) but nevertheless, he was stepping out into the dark with nary a word of appreciation from his sleeping wife.  The scary thing is, if my gratitude isn't keeping him afloat out there, what is?  Bowman's donuts?

Scott, I'd like to thank you for learning to drive a forklift, and for doing such a good job of it.  In fact, you've learned to drive many types of forklifts, and you always do it well, and with style.  I always notice your boundless talent, too, so if I fail to thank you, don't give up on me.  I'm still trying to figure out the gears on my own forklift.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Wire Crossings


Scott and I are both practically perfect in every way.  Therefore, our marriage is perfect.  If we WERE to ever get in a fight, however, it would always play out like this:  1.  There is a disagreement about something mundane.  2.  There is a heated conversation. 3.  I realize that Scott is delusional and he realizes I am impossible to live with.  4.  One or both of us have to leave to take a kid somewhere.  The end.

The interesting part comes later when we talk about the disagreement.  Invariably, there are two versions of what happened:  mine, which is accurate, impassive and factual and Scott's, which is completely fabricated and always contains the phrase, "I was just asking a question" and the pious pronouncement, "I wasn't in a fight."  It is during these argument disseminations that Scott and I have learned the delicate art of communication.  I will admit, in days of yore, some of these theoretical debates ended in someone calling someone else a mean name, followed by a cooling off period and a realization that the person you just called a dumb-something is your favorite person in the world, and the world would be a sagging, ugly place without him - or her. OK, fine, him.

Never fear, all you proponents of marriage.  Scott and I have made great strides in the not-arguing department.  Last time we didn't get into an argument (over the location of a cable jack), it all ended with this text detente:

Circe:  Just for the record, at no time while we weren't in a fight did I freak out.
Scott:  At no time during our non fight did I allege that you didn't not freak out due to our fight after not fighting.
Circe:  You're just trying to confuse me with legal jargon.
Scott:  Res judicata.

You know what else has already been decided?  That no matter where the Comcast guy puts his wires, ours will always be tangled together.  I just hope one of us doesn't get electrocuted along the way.


Sunday, July 22, 2012

Scott v. The Swimsuit Lady



And this is why Scott is my hero.  Never mind getting me that new suit for Mothers Day, Ruby.  Dad has that covered.  I didn't even have to twist his arm to get him to go with me to the Hapari 50% off sale.  You know how Scott loves to shop.  Each swimsuit I tried on, Scott would say things like, "Wow, you're skinny!" and "You might need a smaller size," and "That one looks cute too!"  He also kept saying, "Get another one.  There will be no more blog posts about ugly swimsuits!"  Do you see what a talented shopper this guy is?!

Ruby got some good laughs posing me like her very own life-sized Barbie doll to show off my new suits. She and Scott are still laughing at the pictures, but whatever.  I have no shame.

So, here's a link for Scott  as a thank-you (courtesy of Aunt Marla) that combines some of the things Scott loves best:  Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, Europeans in nice leather shoes, flash mobs and time-wasting YouTube videos.  Every once in awhile, Scott and I get in a fight.  It's always the same fight, which we never realize until we're in the middle of it.  It goes like this:  I get overemotional.  Scott checks out.  That makes me mad.  My anger forces Scott to fall asleep.  I seethe, he snores.  The next day, everything is fine, but I'm a little peeved I had to fight the fight all by myself.

Even if Scott misses out on our fights, he is there for all the good stuff.  In fact, he makes all the good stuff happen.  Heck, he is the good stuff.  Yeah, we caved to The Swimsuit Lady's snarky comment.  But it's not about that.  It's about listening to your wife when she's irrational.  Scott may not be good at that after eleven p.m., but he sure is good at it during business hours!