My [Seemingly Under-Appreciated] Husband

NOTE: This post may seem a bit rambling, as my mind is wandering a bit. It does not mean that my feelings on the subject are any less diminished.
 
I have known my husband longer than my daughter. (I'm pretty sure that in 99% of cases one tends to know the father of one's child longer than one knows the child.) Yet, I rarely mention him in this blog. I am not ungrateful to him. I don't set him out of my mind. I know it may seem that way, especially to people to know me, but part of that is just my typically solitary nature. Nonetheless, it's past time for me to include him amongst my list of gratitude-inducing phenomena.

I met him within my first month at Florida Tech, at a FITSSFF (FIT Society of Science Fiction and Fantasy) open game day. Honestly, I don't think he even took notice of me until our second semester there. We started to interact a little more, especially when I moved into the same dorm because a single room became available. I prefer my own room to sharing with a roommate, especially as I really never meshed well with roommates. He was pretty sweet, even though we were more casual acquaintances at the time. How many people would drive a girl they barely knew and her friend out to a job interview, about 1.5 hours each way? He did. And if he hadn't, then I would never have been able to work at Universal Studios the summer between my junior and senior years. I probably might not have ended up on the school paper, either. He told us all about working on the paper on our way back to campus. Initially I was sold on the idea of getting to move back into the dorms a week before everyone else so that I could avoid the chaos that is freshman orientation (for reference, this is in 1999, right after ending my junior year at FIT and before coming back for my senior year). No, before you start judging me, I did not befriend my future husband just because he had a car. True, I was without my own vehicle, but I did not see him as a resource to be used. He has always been a person to me. I saw him as a friendly acquaintance, then as a friend the more I got to know him. He introduced me to a few people who became friends as well, most of them through either FITSSFF or from The Crimson (FIT school paper) staff.

Throughout college I was always ahead of my [future] husband. I transferred in with two years of credits at the time that he was starting out as a freshman. We were both the same age, though, so I felt more advanced. I liked that thought. I even managed to stay ahead of him until we made our move to our current home. I graduated with my first master's degree when he got his bachelor's degree. And I finished my second master's degree a year before he finished his master's degree. I even got a semi-professional job, something that looked like the start of a potential career, while he was finishing up his degree. It felt great to be ahead of the game for a while. Things have turned around quite a bit, but that's to be expected with the natural progression of maturity. Before I get ahead of myself, I suppose the curious might be interested in how we moved from casual acquaintances to dating, etc. It's not a fantastic story filled with drama and redemption and moving moments, but it's mine to tell.

We started dating after a series of late-night Kubrick movie watching sessions. I would not necessarily recommend this method for attracting girls, by the way. I remember falling asleep during 2001: A Space Odyssey. I also remember missing the "plot" of most of the Kubrick movies because I couldn't keep my focus; it was usually after 1 a.m. when we watched them. I'll be honest, I can't even remember which movie we were watching when we shared our first kiss, but I do remember that it was afterwards we decided that our friendship was growing. Many of our friends at the paper wondered what took us so long to become a couple, as we spent so much time together. To be fair, a lot of that time was spent working on the paper itself. I guess I just didn't realize how much time we hung out beyond that, especially since we never had any classes together. I was studying psychology and he was working on ocean engineering.

Time moved forward. Details will not be filled in here. We became engaged in his junior year, my first year of grad school. A little over a year later we were married and our daughter was born. My parents loved him from the get-go. My dad said "I was wondering when you two would get together" after I told my parents about our dating. My in-laws took quite a few years to get used to me. I think they have since warmed up to me. For the record, I never saw my in-laws as the stereotypical evil people who hate anyone who steals their children away. They are people. They may think and do some things differently from what I was used to, but this provides me many opportunities to expand my horizons.

My husband's career has moved forward, while mine managed to stall [see "I Am Adjunct" post]. He has expanded my horizons. He took me on my first cruise, introduced me to Dragon*Con, helped me find and accept my inner geek. I know I can be annoying and frustrating to him. I know I test his patience with my lack of home-making skills. I know I seem to pour too much focus elsewhere. I know I don't always show my husband of 10 years all the love and attention he may need. Not showing the feelings does not preclude them from existing. He is a good father and a wonderful provider. There are times when our daughter feels like she doesn't get enough time with her daddy and times when I feel overwhelmed by my expected contributions to our family. Yet, he is always there to take some of the stress off my shoulders when I absolutely need it (like at the end of a semester when I go into hyper-grading mode and just need to be left alone to work). He is valued at work and even more valued at home. I thank God that he sent me a man who is sweet and understanding and still has the ability to bring me back down into the depths of reality when I need it. I love my husband. I can see myself with no one else. I may appreciate other men's attractive facades, but I will always come back to my husband. I'm pretty sure he loves me too, or he's at least comfortable enough with me to keep us together as a family.

My Faithful Car, Sam

Yes, I am one of "those" people who name inanimate objects. Usually it happens when I am frustrated with said object or extremely grateful for the object. In the case of Sam, however, I was on my way to work (very different job from what I'm doing now) before 7am and it just struck me that my car felt like its name was Sam. Sometimes Sam is female in nature, sometimes it's male. It doesn't really matter, truth be told. Sam seems to fit it very well.

The main reason I am posting this second entry for the week [don't expect it, as I'm surprised I can keep up with one post a week at the moment] is that it is time to say "Good bye" to Sam. We are trading him/her in for a new car for my husband. I get his current car, which my daughter and I have finally dubbed Joe (another unisex name, of course). It's a little hard on my daughter right now. She has known Sam literally all her life. We got him [please forgive me if I switch gender terms; I get tired of "it" and Sam is androgynous] less than 2 months before our daughter was born. While Sam did not get nearly as much wear and tear as the average car my mom drove--Mom does not like flying and she has kids on both coasts now, so she tends to drive A LOT--he has certainly been there for us in many situations. The farthest we've driven her is to New York (Long Island area) from Melbourne (Orlando area) and back. She's also taken a few trips from one end of Florida (the panhandle) to the other (down by West Palm). She's never broken down and I've only had 2 (maybe 3) flats with her, as far as I can remember. There was one instance in which I drove Sam on worn brakes to the point that they literally fell off, but he was back with us within 24 hours. When my husband was in his car accident in 2007 (that was a hand-me-down mini van we did not have long enough to name), Sam faithfully chauffeured everyone to work and school and everywhere in between until we procured Joe. I have pushed Sam many times, sometimes out of ignorance or a busy schedule, sometimes because I needed to wait another week (or another month) before my paycheck was enough to get his oil changed and/or rotate his tires. Any time gas prices rose more than 7 cents I would wonder how long I could run Sam with the windows down and no A/C in order to stretch my gas budget for the month. And Sam kept chugging along. As I said, she never broke down on me. She always seemed to have at least enough fuel to make it to a preferred gas station. I was only in 1.5 fender benders with her. The first one was reported, but the other guy's vehicle suffered damage while Sam was untouched because he bumped into the spare tire on the back. The 1/2 was a quick incident in which a mom behind me wasn't paying attention as we were driving out of the drop-off lane at my daughter's school and didn't hit her brakes in time after I stopped at the stop sign. That was a no-harm-no-foul incident that didn't get reported because I didn't see the need to do so.

Just some of the many things that rode in Sam

When we lived in Melbourne, Florida, Sam was the only car we had. I was working two jobs (at 3 sites), eventually three (at 4 sites), while my husband finished up his master's degree. Since our apartment was across the street from the college and my jobs were 45 to 90 minutes away, depending on the campus at which I was teaching on any given day, Sam became "my" car. He was originally purchased with my husband in mind. My husband is a full foot taller than me, so the car had to have plenty of leg and head room. However, I found that I didn't need to adjust too much for me to fit in Sam. The more I drove her, the more we tended to synch together. She suffered through my temper tantrums--my road rage never got to the homicidal level, but it did lead to a lot of "colorful" language--and my lead foot. She handled my impulsive turns and my quick braking. There were times when minor things malfunctioned. I went a week or two without air conditioning and power windows & door locks because of some weird electrical issue. The inside light in the middle of the roof has been out for at least 6 years. The CD player didn't always work, but that's what my tape (yes, Sam has a cassette deck!) adapter for the iPod is for. Yet, nothing major ever let us down--no engine or transmission failure and IF we ever had a dead battery, it was only once, though there were some close calls.

Sam, our 2002 silver Honda CR-V EX, has seen numerous soccer and softball games and practices. She's brought gifts to many birthday parties and visited friends. She's brought home many gifts and hauled home many purchases. She's carried countless donations and even a few unexpected passengers, inside and out (a lot of frogs and lizards have taken short rides over the years). She's held our daughter in safety and sleeping comfort after a long day of school, work and activities or a long trip to visit friends a couple hours away. Sam has heard hours of singing--good and bad--and absorbed years of memories. He has witnessed many temper tantrums, suffered slammed doors and over-stuffed spaces. He's provided a quiet place for mother-daughter after school talks. He's given me a great place to catch a nap (while parked, of course) during dance classes or practices. Sam has seen my daughter grow from a baby into a young girl who can no longer stand up in his trunk space, even though she still enjoys climbing in back there.

On one level, I know that Sam is "just a machine" and it was inevitable that we should trade her in. I am glad that we can trade her in before she does fall apart. However, on the other hand, Sam has been with us for a very long time. He is one of only a few things that we have had since our daughter was a baby. Sam was (and still is) a very reliable part of our quirky family. We will miss him and I pray that whoever owns her next will come to appreciate Sam as much as we have.

Goodbye, faithful & reliable Sam! You were much appreciated and you will be missed.

Gifts from My Daughter

Today--and every day--I am very grateful for my daughter. She is most likely a miracle in a myriad of ways. She will soon be turning 10 years old, and yet her character reflects many more years of experience than her actual existence in this reality on this planet.

I know it is a parent's job to enrich the lives of your children and teach them all that you know in order to prepare them for the real world. I am smart enough to know that I do not have all the knowledge she will need for every contingency, but I do try to give her what I can. However, in the 10 years I have had the privilege to know her, my daughter has taught me many life lessons that I have either forgotten or never had the opportunity to think about.

She has certainly helped me on my way to learning true patience. Nothing is more frustrating for me than trying to teach someone something that I find second nature. It is too easy to forget how long it took me to learn a skill set or come to understand a concept. I know it now, I use the knowledge on a regular basis. I don't remember, or don't want to remember, how hard it was to gain that knowledge. And yet, when I look at my daughter and see that she doesn't instantly "get it" when I try to explain something to her or show her how to do something, I realize that we all have a learning curve. Very rarely is that learning curve steep (instantaneous grasping of the concept or skill). Learning tends to be more gradual with a few leaps and bounds thrown in for fun. Any time I see her struggle, any time I see the pain and frustration on her face when I start to get frustrated by what I initially interpret as lack of progress, I am reminded to step back and put myself back in her shoes. I am reminded that I love her too much to hurt her that much. Yes, I do want her to gain the knowledge and experience, but I don't want her to suffer too much on her journey to enlightenment. This patience sometimes even leaks into other aspects of my life. While I am not the kindest or most benevolent teacher, any time I remember my daughter's lessons in patience I tend to be more understanding of my students--to a certain extent; I still want my students to take the majority of responsibility for their own education in my college courses.

She has also encouraged me to think before I act (or react, as the case often becomes). We very seldom stop to think about the consequences of our actions. We very seldom think about the impact of our words or method of communication on other people. As a species we seem to be rather self-centered. It's not easy to see the world through some one else's eyes. I believe this is the first important lesson that God was trying to drill into my thick skull, but I never fully understood it until I noticed how my daughter reacted when I raised my voice, used "the look" or smiled at the "right" moment. She has brought me closer to self-actualization by opening my eyes to the ways in which my actions, thoughts, behaviors, words, etc. affect her (and consequently others). Don't get me wrong, I have generally been sensitive to the ways others' perceptions of me are shaped by my behaviors. However, it was always in a selfish light--how they see me, what they think of me, whether their interactions toward me would be positive or negative. My daughter has taught me that the other side of the coin is not only how others react to me, but how those reactions actually affect them and their psychology. I spent so much time looking down upon the hypocritical selfish people, never realizing that I had slipped into the same trap. My daughter brought me back from that black hole, back to the path of personal growth.

My daughter reminded me how to enjoy life, in big ways and small ways. She showed me that there are simple pleasures in cute fuzzy things and innocence. She showed me what it is like to feel true unselfish pride in someone else's accomplishments, how to really feel happy for someone else's happiness. She reminds me that at the end of the day it's how much we love the person that is more important than why we love them. She reminds me that even though there are things that need to get done, there are seldom things the MUST be done right that second. There are times to stop and hug or laugh or tickle or stare. There are times to hold back the anger and there are ways to turn seemingly bad days into rays of sunshine. My daughter has taught me that sometimes putting work aside for family will not cost me many more hours to catch-up later (although, interestingly enough, I DO end up with extra hours of catch-up work when I goof off for selfish reasons; go figure). She has reminded me how to look at old ideas in new ways and she has inspired me with her creativity. She has also shown me better ways to give feedback, criticisms (I use this term in the technical manner, not with the negative connotations), comments, etc. in a way that will enrich the individual and give them an opportunity to grow without tearing down their self-esteem. She has also helped me understand that teaching someone is not the same as expecting them to do things the exact way you think is correct. I have learned through her personality that it is possible to learn something from someone and find a way to adapt it to make it your own. She has also taught me how to let go--grudges, expectations, anger, hurt, negativity, and many more things that can pull me down.

My daughter is only 9 (almost 10) at the time of this post, and yet I have discovered that she has been her own separate entity since the day she was born. She has a powerful (not overwhelming take-over-the-world powerful, but strong and confident) personality, a strong character, and a heart bigger than most people can handle. She is my guiding light, my inspiration, my anchor, my miracle when I need it most. I may not tell her every day, but I thank God for every moment He allows me to have her in my life and I thank Him for the chance to learn what real unselfish LOVE really is. Perhaps God doesn't give children to those who need to learn patience, but He does send them to people when they need to be reminded of His love and the endless possibilities that it can bring. I used to bemoan the fact that I may never have another child, that my daughter will grow up lonely as an only child. Then I realized that if I never do give her a sibling then she will be an even bigger miracle, an even greater gift, for having her in my life.

Birthdays

I don't particularly care for my birthday. I don't have a rational explanation as to why, I suppose I simply do not enjoy the thought of empty well-wishes from near strangers. I have removed my birthday from Facebook so that I do not get those fake sentiments from others. Let's face it, of the 103 "friends" I have on Facebook (a mere pittance by social networking standards), I only speak to a handful on a semi-regular basis and I rarely comment on other people's status posts. That's just me.

So, when my birthday rolled around recently (I'm not revealing the date), only my family contacted me with well wishes. My husband and daughter treated me to dinner and Lego Pirates. I treated myself to Pirates 4, courtesy of my parents. My older brother called and my sister-in-law (brother's wife) sent me a text. That's it. That was enough. I know where I stand with them and I know who my "friends" are (not many, by the birthday rule, but then again, I'm an extreme introvert, so I'm not really hurt). It's something like the "It's a Wonderful Life" phenomenon. Just about everyone at one point in their life wonders if they have made an impact on others and if they will be missed or remembered. One way to do that is to simply not remind anyone of your birthday and see if you're important enough for them to remember when it rolls around. You only tell them your birthday once, then leave the rest up to them.

Do I remember other people's birthdays? Yes, I keep track of the important ones. I don't wish a Facebook "friend" Happy Birthday unless I mean it. This does not mean that I wish them harm, it just means that I take the definition of a relationship bond seriously and I don't want to demean it with an empty gesture.

The other reason to be grateful for birthdays is a reminder of another year of gifts and graces from God. They represent the beginning of another year in which to make your mark on this world, to do good for others, to learn and grow in your personal journey. Another year older truly is a celebration. Perhaps that is why I am particular about with whom I celebrate it.

My Mother

There are times when dejection and depression set in, primarily due to stress. There are times when I question my sanity and purpose in life. There are times when I wonder if I'm doing any good on this earth. There are times when there seems to be no reason to keep working, when I have a desire to quit fighting, when I think I should stop persevering day to day, when I just want to give up.

At times like these, all I really need is a talk with someone who really cares about me. That's when I'm grateful for my mother. She's not a perfect woman and I didn't have an idyllic childhood. Neither did I have a disastrous, chaotic childhood. I do know that she loves me, though. Just hearing her voice, when all the other voices in my life seem to be ignoring me, lifts my spirits. I'll admit that I don't always listen to her advice. I don't know of any child who doesn't believe that they know what's best for them. But I do understand that the fact that she's giving me advice means that she is listening to my woes and that she cares enough to help me.

Moms are all too often taken for granted. Too often do we doubt their intelligence or their sanity. Too often do we undervalue their worth, their contributions to our health and well-being. I thank God for my mother, for just one person who can bring me back from the brink, letting me know that there is always a reason to keep plodding along.