The start of the adventure.
Posted: August 26, 2010 Filed under: memories, Spouse 2.0 Leave a comment »
This photo was taken 6,538 days ago.
In Maui.
Andrew and I had been dating about a year. I knew he was the man I was going to marry. Of course, that was assuming we could travel together. Some people just can’t.
Travel together, that is.
We had some of the most wonderful meals. We went to a kitchy luau. We snorkled.
And, as you can see by the photo here, we went sea kayaking.
I remember the hotel, The Plantation Inn. It was small. Really nice. Not pretentious. The restaurant had the most amazing fish. It was a kind I’d never heard of before. Something local. The best fish I’d ever had.
The trip was an adventure full of unknowns and new experiences.
I don’t think I ever told Andrew it was my first time snorkeling (outside a swimming pool) and I was really scared. The kayaking was a major effort in the waves but I didn’t want him to see how hard it was for me. It’s not that I wasn’t in good shape; I worked out regularly. It was just hard. A lot harder than I thought it’d be.
I was still putting my best foot forward; hoping that he wouldn’t change his mind about me. Feeling insecure, but all romantic and lovey, just the same.
We talked about marriage as the trip neared the end. We considered just getting married right then and there.
But we didn’t.
We did decide that he’d give up his rental and move into my house. And we decided that we’d be engaged by the following June. Looking back, what an odd decision, but hey, here we are.
The next big adventure after getting used to each other’s living habits? Moving halfway across the country. (We’d gotten married just weeks before the move.)
Then new jobs.
Baby #1. Baby #2. Baby #3. All within 3-1/2 years.
I’ve told stories of the years in between and I’ll continue to tell the ones I haven’t. But, not today.
Today, I am just thinking.
Thinking about the journey. So here we are on a kayak together. We’ve committed to stay on that kayak.
Forever.
Until death do us part.
But let’s be honest. Sometimes, I don’t paddle as hard as I should. Or just on one side. Sometimes, I’m busy playing with my iPhone and don’t notice that we’re headed for a rock.
Or he’s aiming for that beautiful lagoon and I’m dreaming of open water.
And sometimes, we’re just not in sync. Or we’re unable to keep a straight path.
Sometimes, we need to stop paddling and just be. Because those can be the nicest times of all.
The adventure continues.
Together.
(note: I edited this post from its original form to better reflect what I meant. 8/29/10)
What a long, strange trip it’s been.
Posted: August 12, 2010 Filed under: Spouse 2.0, the boys, travel 2 Comments »Yesterday, we traveled from Jeffersonville, Vermont all the way home. Along the way, we made a few stops. This one is at The World’s Largest Kaleidoscope – a 60′ silo converted into a… you guessed it… a kaleidoscope. So my hub, the boys and I laid on the floor, listened to the music and watched the show. I couldn’t resist capturing a bit for your enjoyment….
Sportin’ a ‘stache
Posted: August 3, 2010 Filed under: mood, Spouse 2.0 9 Comments »
I’ve been seeing and hearing a lot about moustaches lately. My #2 son is obsessed; his favorite online store is Fuzzy Ink. He just bought a belt buckle from them. I have to admit…it’s odd. But he’s an odd kid. And I mean that lovingly.
Cracked.com ran an article the other day, 10 Mustache Styles That Must Be Stopped. It’s a must read. There are some great photos here. I don’t want to spoil the fun. Check it out if facial hair amuses you. Or even if it doesn’t.
I don’t think all men should have facial hair. But I sure do love it on Andrew. And there are other men that I think look oh, so sexy with a nicely maintained moustache and tightly trimmed goatee or scruffy beard.
Yes, that’s just how I roll.
I do admit that some men should be clean shaven. I believe this wholeheartedly.
And, I believe that most women should be, too.
I do not want to sit in judgement. That is not the point of this post. If you are a hirsute woman and like sporting a ‘stache, you go girl.
For me? It’s never been an aspiration.
And for 48 years and 9 months, that has been the case. Okay, maybe that’s not true. Let me back up a little.
Today, I went for a pedicure. I know, right? I have a meeting tomorrow and want to wear a nice sandal. So I splurged. Top that with the fact that I love that magic fingers chair so much I can hardly describe it. (Hint, hint. This would make a great present one day.) Okay, I’m off track again. Must be all that relaxation.
So Yuna (name changed to protect the innocent) said as she put the finishing touches on my pearl polish… “Wendy, you should let me wax your eyebrows.”
This lead to a discussion about how I just had them waxed. She kindly pointed out that I was not wearing my glasses and she was fairly certain that they needed attention. Fine. I trust her.
So as Yuna was waxing my eyebrows, she said as she pointed to the right and left side of the top of my lip, you know, just inside the big smile lines I’ve developed, “Wendy, you should let me wax you here, too.”
What?
She said it wouldn’t hurt. Much. But that she STRONGLY suggested that I listen.
Sigh. I did.
I have no idea if it looks better, I haven’t looked with glasses on yet. I’m still a little mortified. Mortified that I had no idea that I needed a ‘stache wax and mortified that, as far as I know, I’ve needed one for a long, long time.
Well Yuna? Thanks for crushing my dream of having a young, smooth upperlip. Well, I guess I have a smooth one now. I just hope I know when I need to come back. Clearly, I don’t see as well as I used to.
But that’s a story for another day.
Not now.
Posted: July 13, 2010 Filed under: mood, Spouse 2.0, the boys, work Leave a comment »As usual, I have a lot going on. Work is hopping. That’s good.
I want to spend time with Davis before his brothers get home. So today, we took a library run and hung out a little. Nice.
But that doesn’t stop the worry.
Worry that my iMac still isn’t connecting properly to the Internet. Or that my email is having trouble (separate issue). Or that I just am not in the loveliest mood. (Just ask Andrew. He’ll probably deny it because otherwise, it could actually get worse for him. Trust me.)
I accidentally opened my iPhoto on my laptop. And I found this:
Isn’t it beautiful!? It’s from when I went to Liberty Hill Farm for a meeting earlier this year. It was heaven.
Peaceful, right?
AHHHHH.
And then, I uncovered this one:
This is from the Grand Caymans earlier this year. I was lucky enough to go on the Cabot Celebrity Cruise. Such great memories. There were amazing people there – people who do incredible and selfless things for others and their communities. Very inspiring. Very.
So maybe this little trip outside myself for a minute put it all in perspective.
Or maybe it was the email I got from a new-ish friend that spoke to the importance of women friends in life. For health and happiness.
Or maybe it was the undying support that Andrew gives me despite my (possible) grumpiness.
Or it could be the wine.
Or the pajamas.
Or the cat cuddled up by my feet.
I suppose I can deal with my technology nightmares tomorrow.
Because I’m finished with them now. And I’m turning this thing off.
‘Night.
Another day, another city.
Posted: June 24, 2010 Filed under: Spouse 2.0, travel, work 1 Comment »I’ve been doing a lot of business travel lately.
Part of me hates leaving town. I love being home. I miss kissing the kids goodnight. (Yes, they still let me kiss them goodnight!) And I love the quiet time with Andrew when the house is still after everyone is asleep.
The other part of me cherishes climbing into fresh hotel linens at the end of a long, productive day with the air conditioning set at exactly the temperature that I like. And as long as they’re not too perfumy, I love having new soaps to try. I know, silly, right?
It’s an adventure to be alone in a different city, to move to the pace of it.
But I hate eating dinner alone in restaurants.
Tonight, I get to have dinner with Shelly, who incidentally, has a very cool twitter necklace. (I might have to get me one)
But I digress.
Traveling has its downsides. Like the woman on the plane who coughed the entire flight. And its upsides like the fact that I read half a book on the way here and plan to finish it on the flight home tomorrow.
I had a great meeting today and am excited for the one scheduled tomorrow. So that’s all good.
But being away reminds me (not that I forgot) – there is no place like home.
I used to wish.
Posted: June 10, 2010 Filed under: kids, parenting, Spouse 2.0, work 4 Comments »I used to wish I had more time with my husband and kids. Now, I’m just making more time.
I used to wish I could just finish this one thing before shutting down for the day. Now, I (sometimes) just shut down and make notes for the morning. (Very early morning, to be honest, but still, worth it.)
I used to wish I had time to make my kid a cake instead of buying one. Today, I did.
I used to wish.
Now, I do.
Note: Clearly this is more poetic than 100% true. I’m trying, I swear! It’s a process. If you ask my kids if I’m more ‘present’ lately, they’ll say yes. Well, at least I hope they will.
It’s a forgery!
Posted: May 29, 2010 Filed under: home, memories, Spouse 2.0 1 Comment »
Are you familiar with the artist, Maurice Utrillo? I wasn’t but read with great interest about him. He was French, with an artist father but there are debates as to which painter might be his father. From the New York Times article quoting the collector, Ruth Bakwin about Utrillo’s paternity:
“After Maurice was born to Suzanne Valadon, she went to Renoir, for whom she had modeled nine months previously. Renoir looked at the baby and said, ‘He can’t be mine, the color is terrible!’ Next she went to Degas, for whom she had also modeled. He said, ‘He can’t be mine, the form is terrible!’ At a cafe, Valadon saw an artist she knew named Miguel Utrillo, to whom she spilled her woes. The man told her to call the baby Utrillo: ‘I would be glad to put my name to the work of either Renoir or Degas!’”
But I digress.
I recently moved into a new home. What that means is that I over the past couple weeks and months, I’ve seen
every
single
thing
that I own. I can’t help it. I read every letter, looked at every photo.
It’s just who I am.
When Andrew and I combined households 18+ years ago, we both brought a lot of art and decor. If I was forced to guess, I’d say we each liked about 2.7% of what the other brought in.
We hung up what we both liked. We bought a couple things together. But mostly, we have kept a lot of it in the basement.
Forced to see it all again, we decided to re-evaluate. Turns out, we had (from Andrew’s pile, I admit) a lovely, small painting by William Tolliver which has grown on me and which, incidentally, has increased in value nicely since Andrew bought it in the early 1980′s. We’d never had it hanging in our home before. Now we do.
In fact, I gave it quite the honor spot.
What makes me smile is that that larger frame was in the garage rafters when we bought the house. It was filthy and gross, but sure cleaned up pretty!
So back to Utrillo.
So there’s this painting. It’s the one at the top of this post. It’s signed: “W. Sheck After Maurice, Utrillo V. 1931″ and on the back, hidden a bit by the materials that hold the frame together, it says ” To Arthur and Betsy . Happy New Year 9-20-52, Bill & Gert Sheck.”
So here’s why I love this.
- Arthur and Betsy were my grandparents. I never met Arthur, but I was crazy about Betsy. She died in 1985. I miss her.
- So really? People copied paintings and overtly gave credit in the signature that they copied it? Does that seem as odd to you as it does to me?
- The Shecks gave my grandparents a Rosh Hashanah gift of a painting? How lovely!
- This is 58 years old. Wow.
- I imagine The Shecks are no longer with us. But a I wonder if someone who knows me might know who they were? This had to be Baltimore.
So I hung the Sheck painting of the Utrillo painting in my office. I really like it. I know my grandmother liked it too, because seriously, she would not have kept it if she didn’t. You’d have had to know her. I am speaking the truth.
Bedtime stories.
Posted: December 28, 2009 Filed under: kids, memories, Spouse 2.0, the boys 6 Comments »
From the time our boys were teensy little boys, Andrew and I read them bedtime stories. We loved reading to them so much that we took turns so that neither missed the opportunity. (Though when Andrew was traveling, I got the honor to myself.)
Depending on the stages of the boys, we read to them separately or together. If they wanted the same book, we’d cuddle in all together but when they had different desires, we’d comply.
It was the highlight of the day.
Nothing made me happier than cuddling with my little guys and some books.
Some days, we’d read 10 or more. They never got enough. (If you know us IRL, I know you believe me.)
As they got older, the books got longer and more complex.
Until we got to some serious chapter books.
That is not so fun to read out loud – at least for me. While I love I Love You the Purplest and Seven Silly Eaters and Welcome to Dinsmore, The World’s Greatest Store and other sing-songy books, I’m not much of an out-loud reader of novels.
Just makes my throat dry.
But Andrew loves that stuff.
He read the whole Alex Rider series while the boys sat by silently listening. But we finished the series.
Fast forward to today.
And he’s on the third Clive Cussler novel. Corsair. It’s the third book we’ve heard about the Oregon, the ship sent out to save mankind from terrible people and…
Well, I don’t want to spoil it for you.
All I can say is that if you’d asked me when the kids were little if we’d still be cuddling in together reading outloud when the boys were 11, 12-1/2, and 14-1/2, I’d have told you ‘no way.’
But then again, I remember when Davis was in kindergarten. He’d hold a book that I’d never read him and go through it apparently as if reading. When I’d ask him about it, he told me that he couldn’t read it. He needed me to read it. Long story short, I figured out that he could, indeed, read quite well. He was just afraid I wouldn’t read to him anymore once I knew he could read for himself.
I promised him that I, that we, would read to him as long as he’d let us.
And here we are.
Dream until your dreams come true.
Posted: October 29, 2009 Filed under: kids, parenting, Spouse 2.0 5 Comments »
(photo from iphone backgrounds app. not sure who to credit. obviously common license of some sort.)
I’ve been having really strange dreams lately. The good news is that it means I’ve gotten some sleep. The bad news is that vivid, odd dreams make me wonder. And when I start wondering… well did you ever read the book about the mouse and the cookie?
I’ve always been a dreamer. And I’ve always been an optimist. So does that mean all my dreams are happy? Well, actually, yes it does.
In my personal life, I dreamed of a happy loving family. I dreamed that my sons grew to be responsible and amazing. So far, so good.
My dreams change sometimes though.
Recently, I thought I wanted a different house. We found a piece of property and even talked to the county and an architect to see if what we wanted to build – a more eco-friendly, responsible home – was feasible with our financial and personal resources.
I could see it.
I could walk through it.
I could see myself in it.
And so, I was sure it was going to happen and that it was what I wanted.
But I was wrong. I realized the resources needed were more than we would choose to spend – in sweat, time, and dollars. And more significantly, I realized that I did not want a different home. I love the home we’ve made.
Sure, we’re a little cozy here. But I like being with my guys.
And yes, it’s on a tiny piece of land in suburbia. But I hate yard work.
True, my office is in public space so it gets a little noisy after school. But I’m here for my kids if they need me.
We’ve decided that we’re putting our resources into creating more memories. We want to have some amazing experiences with our boys before they leave us for the big, scary world. I am beyond excited – reading travel sites, looking at maps, and…
I have a new dream.
Old man look at my life, I’m a lot like you were.
Posted: October 26, 2009 Filed under: Spouse 2.0 8 Comments »
I took this photo of Neil Young sometime between 1980 and 1982 – I think it was at The Mosque, but can find no proof of that right now. Where are those ticket stubs? They’re around here somewhere. I bet I paid over $10 to go to that show….
Anyway, the photo is not great; I got a mediocre grade on it for photography class. But I remember thinking he was amazing.
All this a long way from the impetus for this post.
We like to do some of our grocery shopping at Harris Teeter. And when I say we, I mean Andrew.
So he was shopping last week – Thursday I think it was. And as he walked out reading his receipt (as he always does), he noticed that the young whippersnapper who checked him out gave him the 5% Senior Discount.
Poor guy.
I don’t think he looks SIXTY for goodness sakes. But, in the kid’s defense, it’s hard to judge when you’re 18 or 20. Remember?
But still.
