Saturday morning dawned with clear skies and a crisp chill in the air…and like any other weekend I was up and at ’em at 6:00 AM. By 7 AM I had succesfully created the perfect “pre-game breakfast” and was ready to wake my husband for his basketball tournament. All this while attempting to look like I didn’t try to hard but just woke up perfectly in tact, which never really happens (I cannot defeat morning breath and bedhead without a toothbrush and a hair straightener). I woke Brent up and the day went downhill from there.
Brent- “I think I’ll get sick if I drink this chocolate milk before the game.”
Me- Oh my gosh, Katie you are an idiot. How could you mix this up. Chocolate milk is for post workout. You are the worst wife ever.
One hour later, I’m in the midst of working out with my best pal Jillian Michaels and I recieve a text.
Brent- Where are you? I only have two games left.
Me- You are freaking kidding me. This is why I bugged you for two weeks straight about game times.
I am the worst wife ever. Not only did I try to poison him with pre-game dairy, now I’m missing the game altogether. FAIL FAIL FAIL. And there goes that shower…
The day just went downhill from there. I won’t bore you with the details of me crying and Brent rolling his eyes, all over very petty things. Or the fact that I pulled the I am a brat and will sit here non-responsive until you apolgize act on my very own husband. Or even the threat to skip dinner because I knew it would make him mad.
I am embarrassed to say that I was not on the ball that Saturday, in fact, I think I totally missed the perfect-little-married-couple train. But I would be remiss if I didn’t say that, at the end of it all- the tears shed, the words shared, the obnoxiousness on both our parts, I was refreshed.
We got on each other’s nerves that whole entire day.
And it was ok.
So many things were shared on our wedding day…I couldn’t begin to try and remember them all. But I will never forget an ever-recurring analogy shared by the friend who married us.
You cannot be Ken & Barbie. Nobody even wants that from you.
We all know Ken and Barbie. Unrealisticly fit bodies, painfully white teeth, neon blonde hair and (although I never really watched those Barbie movies), perfect date nights.
Brent is a perfectionist, I am a perfectionist (as established in many posts past). But this message isn’t limited to Brent and I.
These past few months of marriage have shown me so much. Some times, I’m just going to seem annoying and I can’t do anything about it. Sometimes, pretending everything’s ok really just brings lifelessness. Simply going through the hollow motions doesnt bring joy, fulfillment or love to my marriage. It causes resentment, it causes judgment, it causes me to lose myself.
When I feel it, my husband feels it.
Marriage might be the best accountability I’ve ever had.
Unfortunately this post is not a DIY on having a perfect new marriage… or a perfect marriage ever. It is not an outline on what to say or what to do when you mess up, when your husband thinks your acting like a child, or when you know that if you say one more word you have crossed the border from annoying to just plain mean. There’s now “How to Dig Yourself Out of Huge Holes” section and I still struggle with beating myself up over menial things.
This is me saying to you- I’m where you are. If you can relate with me, then I can relate with you. We’re on this ship together and sometimes all we can do is look at each other and say, “I give up. I release control.”
Barbie & Ken make it look so easy…I, however, would argue- It’s not.
I also have yet to master the art of fresh breath and perfect hair upon awakening. So for those of you who’ve got this down to a science, please share your suggestions in the comments below.
This is a lesson to all my newly married friends- from another newly married friend. One day you’re feeling all honey-mooney, and then BAM. Life happens.