It's not that I haven't been blogging...

Forgive me, dear blogger.  I have been absent...and cheating on you.

My blogging continues, but on wordpress. I didn't mean to cut our relationship short and run out on you, unannounced.

Believe me...it's not you.  It's me.

My Choosing to Grow blog can be found at: http://meaganfrank.wordpress.com/

and my For the Sport of It blog address is:  http://justforthesportofit.wordpress.com/

Information about my current book project can be found at my website:  www.meaganfrank.com

I do hope we can still be friends!

Yours truly,

Meagan Frank

The Book Speaks...

I am not a book.

Ok, so maybe I am a book because I have real pages (or digital ones if you roll that way) and a beautifully inspirational cover. There are words splattered all over my pages, some of which you'll adore, others you may question, and others still with which you will completely disagree.
I guess I am a book, but I am more than that too.

I am hundreds of conversations, discussions, debates, tears, smiles, and frustrations. I am a picture of living rooms and coffee houses, dining room tables and libraries.

I am a journey: a transformation from desperation to joy.

I am all of those things, and I am not stagnant enough to be a book on a shelf. I am alive, and my conversation is far from over. There is more to be said, more to be heard, more to be transformed, and I am just a part of all that people are saying.

I guess I'm kindof like marriage in that way.

Marriage is a journey, frought with tears, smiles, frustrations and heartache. It is an ongoing conversation that is ever-evolving and individually unique.

We make a good match, marriage and me. We are alive and intertwined, and ready to embark on this journey together.

We do hope you'll join us!

If you are a facebook fan, you may like my daily conversation about marriage on my own site. Choosing to Grow: Through Marriage

If you like blog articles, my author, Meagan Frank, writes about marriage sometimes...but she gets distracted and writes about all sorts of other things too. Her blog is Choosing to Grow.

Oh yeah, I guess I should tell you where you can find copies of me. I am on the presses right now (most definitely an out-of-body experience). You can order autographed copies directly from Meagan.

Amazon.com is also carrying the books and the Kindle version is coming soon.

I want to thank TreasureLine Publishing for giving me life. They became a part of the conversation about a year ago, and they believe in where this conversation is going.

So much to be said, and so little time...

WANTED: CTG Hostesses

JOIN THE PARTY!!

My favorite part about collecting information for the Choosing to Grow: Through Marriage book were the groups of women who gathered to talk with me.

The CTG groups ranged in size from four to fifteen women, and every discussion positively influenced my marriage.  I hope to gather similarly-sized groups of people (it can be both men and women) to talk about some of the things I found in my research.

The presentation can be geared to the desires of the group, and the topics can vary.  Some presentation topics include: 

• River Rafting through Marriage: How to Equip for Pitfalls 
• Surviving Children:  Putting Marriage First
• Finding the "I" in Marriage
• How to Build the Safety Net:  Fostering the Network of Friends and Married Couples

For any of the presentations, I would be willing to read a portion of the book, if that is of interest to the participants.

The book is due to be published in early March, and I can have books on hand if hostesses are willing to book the latter part of March and into April.

Mother's Day and the wedding season are right around the corner, so book a unique Bridal Shower presentation or a gab session for your busy mom friends.

I am willing to travel, if it is feasible.  Minnesota and western Wisconsin bookings are possible through June 15th.  I will be in Illinois March 11-March 20.  Colorado bookings can happen anytime after June 17th and through August 7th.  Even if you are not living in any of those places, I would consider travelling.

There will be a free autographed copy of the book for the first ten women to book a presentation.

Post a comment on this blogpost or visit my writers' facebook page and book your presentation today.

Husband Appreciation Year

One of my friends celebrated Husband Week last week.  I didn't know how widespread the celebration is for husband week, or if it is really a recognized week, so of course I had to investigate.  This was the Facebook post that started the wheels turning for me:

HUSBAND WEEK: If you have a husband who is your best friend, who works hard for you, who has been with you through thick and thin, who loves you even when you're at your worst, and whom you are PROUD to be married to, copy and paste this with the date you were married.

I do have a husband who is my best friend, he works TOO hard for me, he has absolutley been with me through thick and thin and he loves me even when I am at my worst.  I am SO proud to be married to him and I can hardly believe we have been married since 8/15/98.

Yesterday, I told my husband it was Husband Appreciation Week, and he sat a little taller with the news.  He squeaked out a foot massage because of it, and it was fun to tell him all the reasons I do so fully appreciate him.

I had to break his heart this morning, however, when I told him I could not verify that Husband Appreciation Week really existed, and if it does, I couldn't find the actual week we are supposed to honor them.

"There is a Husband Appreciation Day though...on April 16th," I consoled him. (http://www.brownielocks.com/)

"So no more foot rubs this week?" he sighed.

"I can probably muster up a couple more...if you are worthy of appreciating,"  I joked.

It is important to have special days to recognize those things that matter to us, and I think it's great to add another day of appreciation.

We have World Marriage Day, perfectly coordinated with Valentine's Day on February 14th.

The April 16th Husband Day is shared with the birthday of the Air Force, National Attention Deficit Disorder Awareness Day, Chiropractic Founders Day, Hug a Greeting Card Writer Day and National Respect Day.

I will think about appreciating my husband that day, on Father's Day, Valentine's Day and our anniversary, but our marriage would be in real trouble if those were the only days I told him how much I appreciate him.

To set out for an entire year of appreciation seems daunting initially, so I will still just take it one Husband Appreciation Day at a time. 

I Do...Think it's Okay to Contract for an Affair



Apparently there is a movement afoot.  More and more couples are opting for a clause in their marriage contract that allows the spouses to cheat on one another.

While visiting last night with my husband, the one in my completely monogomous relationship, he told me he had heard couples were choosing this "freedom contract" over the traditional promise of marriage.  I forgot to ask him, immediately, if he was hoping for such an amendment to our contract, so I went in this morning to check with him.

"Hey, I just want to verify that when you brought up that story of the couples who have contracted to cheat on one another, you weren't looking to change our current arrangement... were you?"

"No," he assured me between laughs.  "It was a 'listen to this!' story on the radio, and people actually called in to say that they do sign contracts like this. I thought it was crazy."

I think it's pretty crazy too, and there is not a single cell in my body that wishes our contract were worded differently, but I am intrigued by this idea.

One of the women who called into the radio show admitted her husband had requested permission to have sexual partners outside of their marriage, and she agreed.  When asked if she cheated too, she said, "No, he's the only one who needs to, and having it in our contract keeps things stable."

He's contracted to stay married to her, to provide for her, to be a companion for her, but he is not required to be exclusive. She committed to that too.

Could this possibly work?  This is what I think: I think it works all the time...even if the couple doesn't have it formally written down, there are plenty of people who know infidelity exists and continue to operate as a married couple. 

"Conservative infidelity statistics estimate that “60 percent of men and 40 percent of women will have an extramarital affair. These figures are even more significant when we consider the total number of marriages involved, since it's unlikely that all the men and women having affairs happen to be married to each other. If even half of the women having affairs (or 20 percent) are married to men not included in the 60 percent having affairs, then at least one partner will have an affair in approximately 80 percent of all marriages. With this many marriages affected, it's unreasonable to think affairs are due only to the failures and shortcomings of individual husbands or wives."  Infidelity Statistics

The divorce rate is still around 50 per cent, and only 17 per cent of divorces are blamed on infidelity.  It is possible that upwards of 50-60 per cent of marriages affected by infidelity, simply continue to work. 

A couple who talks about the potential for affair, and then signs a joint contract before they are married could be saving themselves the drama and heartache so many other couples endure.
My husband and I will not be personally experimenting with this, but it is an interesting, modern twist on the marital arrangement.  I would be curious to see the statistics of those marriages that remain in tact in ten years.

I really don't have a problem with two consenting adults who want to bind their relationship in any way that works well for both of them.  The problem I have is with the people who have promised, in writing, to be faithful and exclusive, and then go ahead and have an affair anyway.

I guess for me, I just think people should do what they say they are going to do.

To Write or to Live my Marriage?

One blog in five months does not a blogger make.


I took a look back at posts I have written over the last year, and it is evident I have made a choice. The days, months and weeks when my husband and I were not together were my most productive writing months, and since we have been in the same state, I have not uttered a public word about him. I have chosen to live our marriage instead of write about it.

I am still writing, finishing my first book, (Choosing to Grow: Through Marriage) but my daily reflections about what it takes for us to stay married have gone mute.

Are we still married? Yes.

Are we in a good place in our marriage? Certainly.

Have I plateaued with my current growth? Maybe.

My marriage toolbox got a whole lot bigger over the last seven years. I picked up so many ideas about how to better communicate, how to have strength to change my own behavior, and how to love him better.

Tools that sit in a box are useless, so I have chosen to open the box, put the tools to work and reap reward for effort. In choosing to do that, however, I have had little time to write about it.

Places I knew needed mending have taken top priority for me, and that emotional effort takes minutes out of my day. I don't regret any second of our romantic vacation to Hawaii because, except for the flights, my computer stayed stored. I have soaked up time simply "hanging out" because for so much of the year we do not get to do that. Our marriage needed that. I needed that.

I am a writer, but I am a wife first. I can hardly claim to write about how to navigate the minefield of marriage, unless I am actually taking steps myself.

There will be time to write, to vent, to grow, but the last few months have been the time to live my marriage.

Free Beer for Moms

"Hey Coach...you're a mom!  You should go over there and get your free beer."

I glanced up at the spray-painted sheet hanging from the porch of the self-declared party house, and pretended  I would actually take them up on it.

"That's true!  Do you think they meant me?"  I asked with an exaggerated tone as I took a few steps in the direction of the ad.

I stopped, of course. 

What kind of coach do you think I am?  More than that...what kind of mom do you think I am? I'm a respectable mother, wife and coach who holds herself to the highest standards of professionalism.  I don't think I'd ever be the mom who walked away from my kid as he/she unpacked his/her college things for a first year away at school just so I could have a few bevvies with a young good-looking college kid.  I'd have to be completely desperate, right?! There were moms who stopped, and I was so curious about why they did.  Were they single cougars looking for a young victim?  Were they frazzled, emotional wrecks who hoped that a free beer might calm the overwhelming emotions of saying goodbye?  I don't know. 

I also don't know the intentions of the young men who decided to wave the invitation in the first place.  Were they looking for single cougars who could dig in their claws?  Were they hoping to meet the "party" moms of daughters being delivered to school so they would have first dibs on a girl with good genes?  I can only guess why they invited the moms, but I grappled with what it feels like from a mom's perspective.

On one shoulder I heard the logical professional side of me: "Keep moving those things...smile and welcome all the students and their families...make them feel welcome...do everything you do with joy and treat them the way a good coach and mom should."  On the other shoulder I heard:  "Do it. Just walk over there.  Screw it all.  Would it kill you to lighten up a little? Those boys are sure creative if nothing else, and it would be fun."

Professional shoulder always wins out with me.  I probably always want it to, but there are days when I just wish I could go back to irresponsible, unprofessional me.  Oh wait... I never was one of those!  I told someone the other day how I wish I could just go back to college for one year.  A year when I wasn't worried about playing on a team...a year when I wasn't frantic about my GPA...a year when I could fully invest in getting to know the kinds of boys who dangle interesting messages on bed sheets.  Is this what mid-life crises feel like?  I would venture to guess that if the intensity with which I have felt these emotions the last couple of weeks increases steadily until my kids are heading off to college, the obnoxious, irresponsible shoulder may move my legs to actually cross the street to claim my free beer.

Our Friends Help Me to Love Him Better

They are who I call when I'm frustrated, when what my husband does drives me crazy, or when circumstances make marriage seemingly impossible.  They are the right people to call.  Our best couple friends absolutely support our marriage, and I don't think you can ever have enough friends like that.

Through hormonal tears and laughter about the changing phases of our lives, they have been our steady companions.  Our friends have seen us in different places in the country and they have always been one phone call away.  My girlfriends are important to my emotional health, and I lean on them too, but there is something so powerful about calling "a couple" for support and guidance.  It's funny that I feel doubly supported by our husband-wife friends, because I only call the women, but they are the type of couples who share everything, and I always feel like I am talking with the both of them with one phone call.  I know my story will be shared with the husband, and when I get that call back to check on how things are going, I can hear his input on the other line.

In our best couple-friends relationships I have a deep friendship with the woman and my husband is good friends with the man.  It is important for his friends to have a chance to remind me what makes him such a good guy.  They will defend him, and that is incredibly important to the strength of our marriage.  When I am not necessarily feeling like going to bat for him, our couple friends will.

My husband and I are approaching our twelfth anniversary, and we threaten practically every year to throw an anniversary bash that looks a whole lot like our wedding reception.  Part of why we want to do it is to have a chance to celebrate with the friends who have played such an integral part in our marriage.  One of my favorite pictures from our wedding reception is of the groomsmen holding me up.(the picture above is not me, nor is it anyone I know)  Many of the guys who physically held me that night, have been figuratively holding me ever since.  We have added other supportive guy friends to the mix, and with all that support, a bride/wife has a hard time falling.  When we get our anniversary bash organized, it will be a celebration of our years of marriage, but it will also be a chance to thank the friends who have consistently helped me love him.

Can I Bleach His Collar?

It has been fifty-four days since my husband has taken a full day off of work.  It isn't the sit-behind-your-desk or hide-inside-a-cubicle sort of work either.  It is demanding and physical, resulting in weight loss and fatigue.  He has probably lost about twenty-five pounds, and anyone who sees him this time of year notes how tired he looks.  He is tired...and skinny.  It has started to take a toll on him.

As his wife, I feel a sense of responsibility for his well-being.  "Have you eaten today?"  "Can you get home to get a nap?"  "Here is a gift of a massage...will you please go do it?"  I want so badly to wave my magic wand and turn his dirty t-shirts into white-collared business attire.  That might mean a five-day-a-week schedule, a steady paycheck, regular weekends and a well-rested husband.  A girl can dream, right?

I know to my core, that even if I could change the color of his collar, I couldn't change the worker inside.  My husband loves to work with his hands. He uses his down time (at our cabin) to build things and renovate. He enjoys the rigor of his job and the variety of the tasks.  What drives him hardest is the fact that working like this through the summer affords him the opportunity to do what he loves more than anything in this world: to coach hockey.

He's not a cubicle kid, and he wants to use his suit and tie money to buy the color-coordinated ensembles he can wear standing behind the bench.  It is not my right to deny him that.  It is what breathes life back in to him after he lays limp at the end of the summer.  I support him the only way I know how.  I shuttle kids from here to there.  I plan excursions and soothe frustrations.  I distract the kids and count with them the days until we can rest with him.

I took the girls to see Ramona and Beezus as part of my distraction technique yesterday.  I cried in so many places in the movie, and for completely different reasons.  There was a part in the movie where the dad explains how he was forced to take a "real" job after his kids were born so that he could support the family.  His passion for art was not a feasible means to an end.  The dad in our house has the same problem.  He has a passion that could not support our family of five right now, and he is married to a woman who wants nothing more than to write for peanuts.  Maybe I should don the white collar...and give him a chance to rest for a while?  I don't know whether we need a white collar in the house, or just some centering to get us back on a track with what works for everyone.

It's all still a work...in progress.

It Matters Not How YOU Define Marriage...

If you are not my husband, your definition of marriage is of little consequence to me. I might bend my ear to hear what you think, but in the end, what has any effect on my marriage is how my definition lines up with my husband's.

I recently asked him, as far away from context as I could (I waited until we were talking about sausages---NO, not those sausages!)

"Hey, I have a question for you, and I want you to say the first thing that pops into your head."

"Okay," he looked at me curiously.

"What is your definition of marriage?"

I love that he barely moved his gaze from mine.

He was somber when he listed, "Companionship. Friendship.  Someone being there through the hard times and good times.  Being there to listen."

I wrote it down, internally calculating how we were doing.  My definition was almost exactly what he had said...which is a good thing.  We both think that marriage should be a relationship built on friendship and propelled by commitment.

"How do you think we are doing...this time of year?" I pressed him.

"Horrible." He admitted.

He's right.  We can hardly call ourselves companions when I see him maybe ten hours in a week.  We are comfortable roommates during the summer months.  The difference between us, and other couples who find themselves regularly passing each other in the hallway, is that the current state of our relationship is temporary.  We will be close companions in a few months when we huddle in for the frigid Minnesota winter.

One of the questions on my marriage survey, distributed during my book research, asked about a definition of a successful marriage.  There were 173 responders to the survey, and there were 173 unique definitions.  The only way I could analyze the definitions was to take out the keywords and categorize them.  Two words won out for the most important things to remember in a marriage relationship.  RESPECT and COMMUNICATION.  Thankfully, no matter how often I see him, I can still wholeheartedly respect him, and we can maintain good communication, even if we talk for a few minutes at a time.

My husband and I will celebrate our twelfth anniversary this August.  Researchers have moved the seven-year itch to the twelfth-year turmoil and it's probably important to take stock again.  I'm so happy we are on the same page.  It is comforting to know that he is as frustrated, in the moment, as I am, but that we are both still moving in the same direction.

At church yesterday, the priest used a timely analogy.  He was talking about the Martha and Mary differences and whether it is better to serve or to be present.  He commented about how it is more about the state of your heart than it is about the choice you make.  The analogy he used was about marriage and  when the spouses are forced to conduct their lives apart (I'm not kidding...this is what he talked about). He explained hearts that stay true in separation is how our relationship with God should be. 

Our marriage definition... today...Friendship propelled by commitment with a goal of respect and open communication.  We can do that!

An Intent to Define Marriage

I was looking at my husband last night...in the dark...right after we had fallen into bed.  For a moment, I felt a question forming on my lips, "How would you define marriage?" I wanted to ask.  I heard the immediate heavy breathing that finds him so quickly this time of year, and I stopped myself from asking.  It's not a time for those philosophical discussions; the ones I love so much and that can last into the wee hours of the morning.  It was a wee hour of the morning. He had been working, and I had been hanging out with him...actually I should say I was hanging out "by" him.  But I laid for a while pondering how I define marriage. I fell asleep too quickly to come up with a good definition.  But when I woke up this morning...I kept thinking about it.

A definition of marriage, according to Bing, is:   a legally recognized relationship, established by a civil or religious ceremony, between two people who intend to live together as sexual and domestic partners.

Marriage is a noun.  It is not something you do, it is a state of being.  I find it interesting that in the above definition, the word "intend" is used.  Brilliant.  It is a marriage as long as there is intent.  As soon as a member of the couple no longer intends to be a sexual partner or to shack up domestically, the marriage is beginning to break.  We intend to be sexual partners...at a point in time when our three kids are not sleeping soundly at the other end of our room, and we also intend to re-establish our relationship as domestic partners.  So I guess we are in a marriage, by random online definition standards.  


The word "married" does not further my understanding of what our relationship is.  According to Bing, married is an adjective and it means, having a spouse. Great.  So yes, I guess I have one of those.  I am indeed a married woman.


My personal definition is still formulating, and my desire for more time to hash it out with my spouse is still there.  I will ask him in the next few days what his definition of marriage is, and I'll report back about his response.  Maybe by then I'll have a definition that more fully explains what I think about it too.  For now, I'll just intend to be his partner.

Cheating Men...The Uncivilized Choice

I recently read an article, Do All Men Cheat?, and I can't seem to shake my opinion about this one.  I thought I would vent a little here in a warm-up to my book-writing session today.

Anyone who follows my blogs, or my life, knows that I have a somewhat unique marital arrangement.  (more unique than most, I should say).  We spend weeks and even months away from each other, and even when we are living in the same place, we spend quite a bit of our time apart.  "That's a recipe for disaster..." I can hear the naysayers warning.  "How can he get enough if you are not with him?", and "Not getting enough leads to trouble!!"  I cannot seem to shake this part of the internal chatter spurred by the recent article. (written from the perspective of the mistress, mind you)

 There seems to be a movement excusing men from extra-marital activities, arguing that they simply have an insatiable desire for women, and one wife cannot satisfy their needs.  Monogamy is a construct of religion, but not the way that people would operate otherwise, I have heard people say.  I completely and wholeheartedly disagree.  Marriage is a social and religious construct, yes, but the effectiveness of its presence in society cannot be denied.  My opinion about marriage is personal, but there is some science behind my defense of monogamy.  Scientists have found that happily married women are the happiest kind of women there are.  Health, both mental and physical, are improved when men and women are committed to a monogamous relationship, and length of life and quality of life are both bi-products of monogamy.

I have no problem with men who know that they cannot keep their zippers zipped and who find life too boring without the thirty-one flavors...there is a place for you in the world.  My issue is with the men who agree to make a monogamous relationship work, and then cop out of their commitment  because they want a younger and firmer flavor.  It is not excusable man behavior, it is chicken.  It takes real work to keep things interesting, and although men may have picked vanilla and sometimes don't feel like vanilla, it is more manly  to dress it up with some flavorful toppings, and stick with what they promised to love.

My husband and I are human too, and we have our needs, most definitely, but we have both committed to one another, to this relationship and to our children, and miraculously we are disciplined enough to wait until we are back together.  Simply put, it matters not where we get our appetite, just that we come home to eat...that is what we promised to do!

He Wants to Spoon...And I Feel Like a Fork

I know it's me and not him, but I can't help wanting it to be him.  We are finally in the same state (something that hasn't been consistent since April).  Granted, it is not our home state, but it is the same.  What is hard, at the moment, is that I probably talked to him more when we were in separate states, than I have since we got here.  His phone is broken and his work schedule is the same.  He is comfortable to fall asleep, as long as I am sitting next to him, and when we are not acting like an old couple dozing on the couch, I am running around trying to catch up with friends. 

I knew it was going to be like this.  It is like this every summer.  The twenty-hour work days are still the twenty-hour work days and when I look in my rear view mirror, there are still three little faces who depend on me to feed them and keep them busy.

I'm not sure why I feel so differently this year.  The romantic buzz about this summer business is no longer all that romantic.  It is wearing on both of us, and I just know that something is going to give. Part of me is terrified to put a stick in the spokes of these out-of-control wheels, but I know the crazy ride has to end. I fear we'll all get up from the fall with scrapes and bruises that may take a while to heal. 

Dealing with bandages in a full-family transitional recovery still sounds better than what I am trying to do now.  I don't want to be the fork in the bed.  I can feel my body posture tightening when the couch sleeping moves to the bed for sleep, and I cringe at the idea of spooning like we usually do.  I am not in a spooning state of mind.  I have some typical women tendencies I guess:  when I am not in a good emotional state I guard my  physical self too.  It is not how I feel about my husband, our marriage, or our life, but I am finding it difficult to soften the prongs into a spoon, and it may take something drastic to balance us out again. 

Family Reunion...A Celebration of Marriage

 There was a migration of hundreds of McGuires last weekend, and all because of Richard P. McGuire and his wife Margaret.  Every five years, the family descends upon the small farming community of Wisner, Nebraska.  The weekend is spent  connecting with immediate and extended family, relearning or being introduced to the history that defines us, and feeling genuinely connected to something much bigger than any of us.

At the Sunday Mass, a couple from another branch of our family celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary.  We were all witness to the renewal of their vows, and for me, it was one of the more touching moments of the day.  Sixty years!!  Are you kidding?  It reminded me that no one in that room would have been sitting there had it not been for the decision by Richard P. McGuire to marry Margaret McMahon.  In six short generations, there are enough people to fill an auditorium every five years.

The family operates on a constantly changing bell curve.  The older generations are smaller each time while the younger generations often grow with marriages and children.  The generation pictured below is the fourth generation.  This is the group that should include my dad, but he was not there and, barring a miracle,  he will likely never be able to attend another one of the McGuire reunions.  For me, my closer connections are my dad's four brothers.  It is through them I feel woven into this group.  It is through them that my son learned about who his grandfather used to be, and it is though them that I will forever have pride in my Irish family.

I don't imagine that R.P. and Margaret were perfect, nor that their children led lives free of mistake, but I took several minutes over the weekend to look around at the room they had created, and I couldn't help but to think that they had done something right.  They loved well enough, they passed down a strong pride in heritage and the people in that room had an air of open generosity that is well-worth celebrating.

My brother, (pictured below) and his wife are expecting their first child, and he/she will be the only "McGuire" baby in my immediate family.  As my brother stood and contemplated the headstone of his great-great grandfather, I said a short prayer in thanks for all that marriage can do.

The marriage of my great-great- grandparents is ultimately responsible for my children.  How could I ignore what that means?  I am so grateful for the willingness of this family to continue to gather.  How else could I foster in my kids the kind of pride that encourages Big Sprout to sport an "I'm proud to be Irish" button while embracing his second-cousin-once-removed (or however he's related to the son of my dad's first cousin)?

It was a wonderful reunion and I think we all feel a bit more grounded after the McGuire reunion weekends.  I recognize the miracle of those who remain and continue to want to organize, but I celebrate the power of marriage to do wondrously miraculous things too.

Seventh Inning Stretch

Soccer and hockey rule this house, so I am biased, I know, about the sports we play.  I find it interesting that my husband and I played such similar sports:  the flow, the objective and the energy of both hockey and soccer are the same.  Successful teams are seamless, and victories are won with guts and miraculous endurance.  I have my theories about the positions played by people, and whether the chicken or the egg comes first,  I think personalities fit those positions.  My husband is a goalie and I am a midfielder ( playmaker and goal-scorer).  He spent the better part of his life in a defensive mindset: stoic,  under control and curbing emotion.  I played driven by emotion; riding the waves of passion to do what needed to be done.

Don't get me wrong, he was, and still is, incredibly passionate about hockey.  What I mean is that he has found that magic formula to internalize and dissipate any emotion he may have. Because of the demands of his position, he had to find a zone of calm.  He still behaves a lot like that.  Maybe he should take up poker?

The interesting thing that has happened since we got married, and most certainly since we had kids, is that we have had to start playing baseball instead.  Not literally...we don't have a baseball player in the house...but figuratively.  We have given up our skates and shin guards to find a spot on the baseball diamond. This time of year, when my husband works nearly twelve-hour days in one part of the country, and I manage things here at home, I am the catcher and he is running around in the outfield.  The kids are staggered at positions in the infield, and as a family, we play defense constantly.  Life is the opposition...working to get hits off of us.  It is us against life, and with only two adults in the house right now, the best way to guard our diamond is to have one of us in the outfield and another at home plate.

Our roles shift in the fall when I am coaching full time and he is home more.  I chase down the long balls, and he stays closer to home plate.  Then we switch back again when hockey season rolls around and he does coaching of his own.  The reason the baseball analogy works well for our family scenario is because I have never played baseball, and my husband played on a limited basis in high school, so we are learning how to do this as we go.  We are trying to anticipate the bunts, the pop-flies and the line drives.  I can't have him flake out on his job out there in the outfield any more than he can have me lose interest at home plate.  We are a team.  When life really throws us a curve ball, the kids have stepped up to be more prominent players in our game.  The older they get, the better fielders they have become.

I love this picture of the ripped baseball, but the quote that goes with it, says it all:  "The harder you work the luckier you get."  At this rate, we are going to be the luckiest family in the world!

Father's Day Flowers

I found this flower blooming near our front porch this morning.  For the first time in my life, I am in Minnesota for Father's Day, and I discovered  beautiful potential in a plant I obviously know nothing about.  We have never been here this late in June, and I had no idea that what looked like tall grass to me would bloom into this startling eye-catcher.  Throughout the last week, I could tell that the plant was preparing itself to flower, and I anticipated a subtle yellow flower.  I was pleasantly shocked at the vibrant color of a flower I have never been here to experience.

It is a gift of Father's Day for us. We can only share it with my husband via the internet, but it is a symbol of hope for me, and a reminder that only because of him, am I here to witness this. He is the Minnesotan, I am not...not yet anyway.  I still feel like a tourist here.  I drive from place to place with my GPS and I frequently navigate informational websites.  I learn something new about this place, and about my husband, with each passing day.

This flower has impressed more upon me than its vibrant display.  It represents for me all it is I strive for in life and in my marriage.  In the spot where this flower popped this morning, snow and ice sit for nearly five months.  The pile of snow was above my hip this year.   In the middle of winter, it is impossible to imagine that fragile beauty like this could exist.  Nothing is more hopeful than knowing that life can survive and eventually thrive after the harshest of conditions.

It is not the first time the kids and I have spent Father's Day without their father, but it is the first time we will not see him at all.  My husband has worked twelve-hour days EVERY Father's Day since I have known him.  Usually we track him down at the festival where he works, but we are allowed only fifteen minutes or so as we follow him from one place to another.  We have managed to stay optimistic about the fact that the beauty of our family togetherness is simply laying dormant.  Just like this flower, it will bloom again...even from ground that seems impossibly frozen.

Where are You Right Now? and What are You Doing?

The Sprout household is wilting.  Pappa Sprout has been gone from home for most of the last month and a half.  Our leaves are drooping. He'll be back to visit on Monday, but my heart knows we won't really have him back until October.

Of all of us in the house, Little Sprout wears her sadness most publicly these days.  She cries and stomps and throws something across the room declaring, "I miss Daddy!"

"I know, honey.  We all do." I console.

Then when she gets her dad on the phone she consistently and predictably asks him, "Where are you right now?"

Every single time she talks to him she asks him where he is.  I want to ease the phone from her and tell her, no one really knows where he is right now.  The daddy you are missing won't be back for a while.

He has been in that "working" place, increasingly since April.  It's the place that deadens his smile and changes his posture.  With the approach of opening weekend, he has been pulled further and further from us, and Little Sprout knows it.  Saturday marks the opening of the Renaissance Festival, and although I know the difficult preparatory work will be done, I know too well that my husband's focused work will only barely fade after the last cannon fires. 

It's not that he doesn't want to be with us...or there for us...he does.  He just has so many responsibilities and demands that his emotional energy cannot be on us.  I'm seasoned.  We've navigated this ridiculous schedule for fourteen years, and even though the spiral is predictable, it doesn't mean I have to like it.  I can hardly expect the smaller sprouts in this house to like it either.

I don't ask him where he is, but I do ask, "What are you doing right now?" I try to conceal my increasing worry about his welfare. He does too much, in my opinion. His answers this week have been, "I'm moving hay bales." , "I'm raking sand.", "I'm shopping for food.", "I'm rebuilding a game.", "I'm scrubbing a fryer.", "I'm doing contracts in my office." "I'm running orientation.",  "I'm meeting with the fire inspectors."

"Did you eat lunch today?" I ask at 2:00 his time.  "How much sleep did you get?" I ask each morning because he sounds more and more tired each time he calls the kids before school.

The phone conversations have gotten shorter (three minutes tonight) because I hope he'll actually get more sleep and I don't really want to know the answers to my questions this time of year.  He's so tired, he'll barely remember whether I asked him or not.

I'm missing his side of the conversation.  So, I'll pretend he has time to ask me the burning questions, "Where are you?"  he  would ask. "Oh, I'm sitting at my computer," I would answer.  "What are You Doing?" he would wonder. "I'm missing my husband," I'd sadly reply.

REALLY?!? Phone Company to Blame for Divorce!!!!

I am not sure what appalls me more...the fact that a woman cheated on her husband OR the fact that she is suing the cell phone company for the fact that her marriage is done.

Toronto resident Gabriella Nagy is suing Rogers Wireless Inc. for $600,000

 Nagy claims her husband left her after seeing several phone calls to the same number, calling it and confirming her affair.  She blames the phone company for the break-up of her marriage.  Plus, she has the gall to think that someone owes her money for it.  Their marriage is done...officially...now that her husband knows of her affair, but her loyalty to their marriage was obviously over well before the cell phone bill mix up.

My approach to marriage is incredibly different than this woman's.  I don't want you to think that I am high and mighty and that I have never made terrible decisions when it comes to my marriage, but I have ALWAYS taken responsibility for my own behavior.  If, by some off chance, this woman wins her lawsuit, I hope her ex then civilly sues her for minimally half of the money she wins.  His argument would be that if they had not been together so that she could cheat on him, she would never have made any money from the cell phone bill mistake.  Real news never ceases to amaze me!

Appreciating the Wedding Tent

We opened our last wedding present this weekend. In August we will have been married for twelve years, and we finally got around to using one of the gifts.  The two-bedroom, six-person tent that we have lugged through eight moves, came out of its packaging on Saturday.  Big Sprout and Papa Sprout spent about forty-five minutes putting up the poles, setting in the stakes and prepping for a night of campfires and tent-talking.  Talk about delayed gratification! There was something so magical about sharing the initial use of this gift with our kids.

The tent was a present from a group of our college friends.  It was likely intended for our use as a newly-married couple, and they probably had no idea that we would be too scattered during the first part of our marriage to use it.  I can hardly believe that it has taken us twelve years to feel settled enough to set down those stakes, but we finally are.  The tent is now safely housed at our cabin, and I anticipate years of memories, but the tent stories will primarily belong to our children.

I think I've always known that this was going to be the way.  It never bothered me that we moved the tent box without opening it, because I knew we would, and I knew we would open it with our kids. 


It  makes me pause when our kids ask questions about our wedding.  It feels like they were there.  It's still strange to me that they weren't.  We talked this weekend that we should renew our vows at our twentieth anniversary, so that the kids can be a part of the celebration.  They have earned their time in our wedding tent.

It is so symbolic for me that we opened the tent on this particular weekend.  I had an epiphany of sorts about wedding miracles.  We went to a beautiful wedding on Friday, and the shift in my mentality was clear.  I used to cry watching the ceremonies because of what emotions I remembered from my own wedding, but the tears fell at this ceremony in remembrance of our wedding but also in anticipation of the weddings for our kids.  I was crying from the perspective of a mother, and I admittedly had  more tears.  Mothers have the emotional perspective of going through their own days, and the overwhelming reactions of letting go.

I am starting to understand the possible tension that happens with mothers and daughters and mothers-in law and daughters-in-law.  It is part of a chapter I've been formulating for the Choosing to Grow book, and it all came together for me this weekend. My understanding mimics the popping of the tent.  As a bride I saw weddings in one dimension, much like the flattened out version.  Through my research I realized that in order to fully appreciate the complexity of the full-family wedding experience there is some building that needs to be done first.  The husband and the wife each bring their own parts of the tent, and they are uniquely equipped with their own tools, handed down from families and established through experiences.  Recognizing the uniqueness of this union opens someone up to appreciation.  When the tent is completely assembled, it is a three-dimensional reality of wedding bliss, complete with past, present and future. I am beginning to look at weddings from the perspective of a previous bride, as a newlywed, and now as the mother of children who will eventually lay out their own wedding experience.  It is three-dimensional and I am grateful to have my 3-D glasses.

The mother of the bride commented as we were leaving the Friday wedding, "It is amazing to see the layering of their lives manifested here in one day."  It is most definitely layering that happens.  We are building the base layer for what our kids will take to their wedding tent, and there will be countless layers added in the years to come.  My greatest hope for them is that they can appreciate the three-dimensions of the wedding tent much earlier than twelve years after it happens....but it's really never too late to put up the tent, right?!?

He's Baa-aack! and I'm Adjusting

My space has been invaded.  Glad he's home. Extra dishes. Glad he's home. Bed unmade. Eyes closed...glad he's home. Clothes strewn. Deep breath... glad he's home. Bathroom's crowded. Move through quickly...glad he's home. Vibrating phone alarm clock. Sun's up anyway...glad he's home. Typing elsewhere so I don't wake him...cathartic...yes, I'm glad he's home.

I'll have someone with whom to share my coffee.  Little Sprout will have a playmate when I am off running games for field day, yardwork will get done faster at the cabin with two more hands.  That elusive campfire will be built because I am not the one building it.  Fish hooks will be properly set,and  caught fish will be handled less squeamishly.I'll have someone to marvel at fireflies with me...when the kids have all faded to sleep. Laughter will be louder, hugs will feel tighter, conversation will grow to its normal length after being stunted by telephone awkwardness. Children will settle...life will feel full...Absolutely...I'm glad he's home.

The real kick in the pants is that just when we have all adjusted to the newness of his presence here, and yes, after three weeks of life in his absence, it feels new for a few days, he will leave us again.  Back to work...for both of us. One more long stretch before we come to invade his space, and we all adjust to a different kind of newness. 

So yes, the space feels crowded, and slipping right back in to the habits I abandon when he is gone, well, that's okay with me for a weekend.  Letting myself quickly drop my guard so that I can feel all the joy the next few days...that makes the time he's home better, but it makes the adjustment when he leaves that much harder. I could sabotage. I could spend time pointing out and embracing the discomfort of an extra body in the house. The weekend will happen at weekend pace whether I am joy-filled or frustrated.  So, I choose joy-filled.  I am going to leave this on my computer screen, pick up the strewn clothes, make the bed, do the dishes and wrap my head around living joyfully in the moment.