The Mom War. How do you measure up to your own standards, and whose back do you have?

The mommy wars are a real thing. But the mom war is a personal nightmare and struggle. The sanctimonious mothers of the world do their best to make themselves look better and make you feel worse. You meager mother who is making scrambled eggs for the 4th straight week because it's all you've got in you. Or you, mom who has poured cereal for dinner again. These women...there just aren't words for them, and we could all be better off if they just toned it down a fucking notch. Do you know where the real struggle is though? It's amongst our own friends. We find our tribe, it's true. But sometimes within our own tribe of mothers we find our worst enemies are also our friends.

"I live for my kids." "I never knew what my purpose in life was until I had X." "love getting to stay home with Y and be his mommy." "I am so blessed to be able to work from home and spend more time with my babies."

They mean these things. These aren't sanctimommies. These are real mommies who often appreciate and can relate to the fact that you let your 2 year old eat a stale fry off the car floor that has NEVER been cleaned. They just also happen to be biologically engineered to love being mothers; it feeds their souls. Their social media is a mixture of light hearted mom oops and how much they love being mommy. They do the real damage to a mom's fragile state of mind. The mom that is hiding in the bathroom crying, door locked, kids banging on the door and screaming, baby screaming because the dog won't move out of the hallway so the baby can have a 2 foot clearance on either side. That mom, she might get herself all calmed down and take a moment to skim Facebook before braving the tiny dictators, and that is when she will fall apart all over again. Some friend will have just posted about how amazing being a mom is and how fulfilling it is. And our bathroom hiding mom will be in tears, again. She is not as good a mom as her friend. After all, her friend has similar struggles but she still loves being a mom. Our mom is terrified to get out of bed each morning because she isn't sure she can make it through another day. I'm not talking about all the moms out there that are struggling with mental health issues. Those moms are my heros, and they too fight an uphill battle every day. I mean the moms that are struggling to come to terms with being a mom.

Being a mom does not fulfill her. She is freaking out, why did she think she would be good at this? What was she thinking? She is about to snap her kid in half if he picks on his sister again. How the hell did her kid become such a little shit!? Being a mom is the most important work we do. Raising our kids not to be douchebags is incredibly important, giving them a good moral compass. This shit is hard. And when you don't live up to your own standards, and those of your family, it's even harder. You then have only your tribe to turn to and sometimes they can't even help. You fall apart. Our poor struggling mom is doubting everything in life because she feels like the world's biggest failure as a mom.

Nobody tells her that that feeling is actually what makes her a great mom. That feeling (as long as we aren't talking about clinical depression and/or anxiety) will push her to be better. That feeling will make her review her methods and do "better". I said "better" because that word is subjective. She may already be a kickass mom who is raising the kids on her own because she's a military spouse or single parent (there really isn't much difference-long distance emotional support), but in her mind there is better. As moms, as fellow travelers on this journey, we need to remind ech other that we are good enough. We need to be willing to help each other out and take the kids off each other's plates occasionally. And when it happens that the only thing that will make it better is daddy/husband/tequila-we need to be there extra for her. We need to help her get through until that can happen. Because she is NOT weak, she IS a good mom, and she is WORTHY of support. You can't even imagine how appreciative she will be when you reach out and support her. This is like a life's debt in the mommy world. She will have your back whenever you need her.

Firsts

When you are a parent you look forward to your child's "firsts". First word, first step, first non tar poop (seriously), first tooth (even the breastfeeding moms look forward to this one), first bite of real food etc. My son just had a pretty big first, and I almost ignored it. Let's be real, I didn't ignore it. But I sure as hell didn't cherish it. I didn't look at my son with pride, amazement and wonder (like I should have). I high fived him, used my fake super excited voice, gave him hugs, and told him he was awesome. My son had read his first word, on his own, sounded it out and everything. This is a big deal. He didn't say the word from memory (like kids do with sight words); no, he learned the sounds of those letters and how they sound together, then sounded them out one at a time to READ that word. And I? I made a big deal about it without actually feeling the moment. Why? Why didn't I savor that precious moment? Because I am stressed. And if we are honest, as parents it happens. We get so stressed and focused on the wrong thing (or the right thing at the wrong time) that we sometimes miss the real genuine moments we are supposed to savor.

What could possibly have me that stressed? What I was doing, and the preparation to take that task on full time in just about 2 months. You see, we are moving. The United States military is sending us to Hawaii. This is exciting and stressful. The military has all sorts of regulations and hoops to jump through when moving OCONUS (outside the continental United States). After that, I had to start researching schools to send our kid(s). In my research I discovered that Hawaii has an early birth date cut off line. The line that separates whether a child is a first grader or kindergartener. It's July 31st. My August baby would end up behind in school because in this state the cut off line is so early (seriously, that's super early). After looking into all of our options (very expensive options) I broke down to my husband about the unfair position this puts our son. My son loves to go to preschool. He never wants to leave. He loves it, he loves learning, he loves being active, this is the time to cultivate that and keep challenging him. My husband asked me how can we make sure that he keeps getting challenged while staying in budget for school. The answer is that, even if money were no object, you can't. He would end up with 2 more years of preschool instead of 1, and he is already doing most of what the Hawaiian DOE sets as the standard for entry to kindergarten. After a few moments I said the unthinkable, "I will have to homeschool him." This unthinkable statement is because I had been getting ready to go back to work. I was excited to finally get back to work and use my skills, practice my craft, get on with that part of my life. No. Instead, I will be educating my son while picking up work here and there as I can make it work.  I was looking forward to the alone time. No alone time for me now. I don't know how long I've been actively pursuing homeschool now, but it's been at least 3 weeks. And in those 3 weeks I have had...at least as many break downs. I decided to start somewhere small and "simple" (veteran educators are all laughing at me now): reading. I could start, now, to teach my son to read and keep researching and figuring out this homeschool thing.

I failed. I did not start out teaching my son very well. I got a book, rave reviews from everyone (online, people I know, even teachers), and started. But I misunderstood something crucial and I put too much pressure on my son and not enough understanding. As a result he was not excited to learn to read at first. It took me almost a week to figure it out and get us on the right path. The day he read his first word I was filled with self doubt and worry about the hell we are about to embark on. Realizing that I missed the moment I decided to take a step back. I was making this whole thing too complicated. I had a good solid plan: teach through kindergarten and when finished just move onto 1st grade-no timelines, just keep going forward and when we get back to the mainland in a few years we will decide about placing him in school (and addressing grade placement) or continuing to homeschool. But my good plan got crazy when trying to pick curriculum and teaching aids/resources. I took about 5 steps back and wrote down some subjects: Language Arts, Math, Science, History, PE/Nutrition/Nature, Art/Music and then I decided to fill in the blank spaces beneath those subjects. Language Arts: Reading-Teach Your Child To Read in 100 Easy Lessons, Writing-. That's as far as I had gotten. I did a lot more reading, and thinking about how I wanted my son to learn and how he is as a person. I found a writing program that is good for kinesthetic learners and a math program too. I also found a math program that has great reviews for being applicable to everyday life. Okay, good going. Language Arts and Math are done. Z-Man gets a Koala Crate each month, that comes with 3 different STEM projects to build. So I wrote that under science along with The Magic School Bus (one of his favorite shows). PE/Nutrition/Nature doesn't really require anything beyond coloring a paper plate and helping mom meal prep (maybe even grocery shop). We are an active family and we love to be in nature. So this doesn't require us to do anything different at this age. History? Coloring books about the states and the state birds/flowers should be sufficient and fun. Maybe we'll find a puzzle map, or something like that. Easy, done. Art/Music...we are a house about playing music. Guitar, mountain dulcimer, ocarina, piano, ukele, clarinet-we love our musical instruments. So...how does one teach music to a 4/5 year old? I don't really know. I'm still working on this. For art though, color combinations and continuing to show my son how to take pictures (yes, my preschooler is all about taking photography). I decided to make this less traditional and more us because I was already losing sight of the goal.

I don't want to miss his firsts again. I also want to make sure he's prepared for school (should he go in the next 4-5 years). This is going to be a crazy journey. And I'm going to need to force myself to really take care of myself. I need to be more than a mombie; I need to really savor the firsts and encourage the progress-in the most authentic way possible.

What Does it Mean to Serve

This was on the USCG instagram account the other day. I have a response to this, but it is not for everyone. Many might decide that what I say is offensive/callus/selfish/unsupportive etc. But the truth is, that only those who really know, can really appreciate. For everyone else, it's some sort of heart string or political opinion. This is what it means to serve:

My husband joined the USCG after I told him not to. That hasn't stopped me from standing by him and being the support he needs to succeed in his career. To serve in the USCG means missed anniversaries, birthdays, births, deaths, major illnesses you aren't there to help with, depression, doubt, worry, a lonely bed, an empty pew next to me on Sunday, my son acting out because he misses daddy, my sanity fraying as I try to navigate through all the adjustments and parenting, crying myself to sleep, holding my child while he cries because daddy missed his pinewood derby race, holding and singing to my screaming baby who split her lip open in the shower while I was trying to wash my hair - blood from her lip running down my shoulder, simultaneously my son dumping a bottle of shampoo into his bath tub so that he has bubbles, pillows made of daddy's old shirts, baking cookies, navigating how to homeschool, learning the fire suppression system of the 47' MLB so that I can help him study, late night workouts after both kids are in bed, new friends, Coastie Wife Bestie (I love you), handwritten letters, long distance romance, losing my shit on my husband - and then having to apologize, hating the USCG, loving the USCG, being the proudest wife ever, teaching our son that 'ensign' and 'Vincent' are not the same thing, for that matter it's not the 'National Vincent', the best sweats ever (thanks Cape May), difficult reintegration when daddy gets home, moving-A Lot, movers, isolated coastal communities, beautiful beaches, surf training, 2 boat training, surfmen that don't surf, helo ops, dinner at the station, salty sea air, wind in my hair, long walks on the beach, my husband, honor, being another wife's cheerleader, "are you kidding me!? What the what!?", dog quarantines, Miss "Merlin", military discounts only available to the DoD, Skype/Facetime/Google Hangouts, Sallys, family, devotion to duty, grace, meal trains, 2nd boat, coin op laundromats, sewing on name tapes and crows, pinning ceremonies, sacrificing my career, the list goes on. 

Serving, when you're the spouse, means a whole lot of give and having to be adaptable. This life isn't for everyone, and many of us struggle (not all the times, but it happens), and we are a special breed of spouse. We hate your job and we love it at the same time. People, not in this line of spousehood, will say, "just imagine your service member spouse feels". Yes, my husband felt awful last night while he was on speakerphone singing to our screaming daughter from across the country. He would have rather been here to try to comfort her in person and to lift me up as I was starting to lose it. But I also know that husband would tell anyone who asked that the non service member spouse has it worse and should be recognized for their service. So, this is what service means in our house.

The Important Work

C.S.Lewis is credited with saying that children are not a distraction from the more important work, they are the important work. Or something to that effect. I repeat this to myself daily. Everyday I require this reminder. My kids mean the world to me, but the world doesn't care that my kids need me. The world says, "your kids need you to put food on the table and a roof over their heads". My kids say, "we need mommy and daddy to spend quality time with us".

In this life that we lead there is the very big reality that most of the time one of us is not available to our children, when our children need/want us. I had a moment recently that exposed a very difficult situation for a lot of people, and myself too. Since the hubs has been at school our son has developed a bit of separation anxiety. Preschool is fine, but Awana and church are sticky situations. I now sit in the nursery, for all of first service, so that he can get over the anxiety he initially feels and have fun again before I head into the second service. I don't actually mind this, but it took me a bit to figure out how to handle his anxiety at church. At Awana...I haven't got that entirely figured out. And in this moment it really showed. I raced us to Awana just a little early, in case there was a melt down, and he got out of the car fine but as we walked up to the Cubbies room he lost it. Stopped, sobbing hysterically, in the driving rain...mommy was not pleased. All of my mommy powers engaged to get him under the awning so we could talk and not get soaking wet. However, just as I had gotten us under the awning and I am crouched down to his level and asking him why he doesn't want to go (after listening to him beg to go to Cubbies for HOURS) a volunteer (whom I have never met) interrupts us and asks me (in a short and rude manner) if I got the text message about it being "Father-Son Night". My immediate reaction was...less than graceful. No, I did not get a text message and my husband is in the military and on the other side of the country: right now I'm trying to take care of my son and he is way more important than this conversation.  Ya...I'm winning bitch points here. Two things collided: 1) poor attitude and bad timing on the volunteer's part and 2) exhausted warn out mom. The volunteer took some offense to my comment and went to get the director. Cool beans. In the meantime I have collected my daughter and cell phone and have engaged my husband in a video chat to help get our son over this anxiety. All good, he wants to stay for Cubbies and now I have to address the situation with the Awana director. He was very kind and started to explain that there was no offense intended in the evening and they would love for our son to be involved, even though his dad is not here. I told him that I'm sure my son love to be involved and that I took no offense to the night-the volunteer simply had epically bad timing given the situation. He agreed and we got my son to where he needed to be and a friend's husband took Z-Man for the evening's festivities.

Here is what happened: high school volunteer doesn't understand that she needs to wait before engaging the parent of a child having a meltdown, mom is exhausted and can really only focus on one thing at a time, preschooler is loosing his mind because he misses daddy, and volunteer doesn't know how to ddress the situation once she has the bigger picture. Most people don't know how. There is the inclination to say, "oh those poor military children who's parents are away so much. They are missing out on so much and don't have good relationships with their military parent." These are the messages that military children hear: they are broken, they are missing out, they are not normal. When people are faced with the reality of military separations they don't really know how to help the parent and child(ren) at home thrive in this season. Let me make it clear, I aim to thrive (and misbehave)-NOT survive. 

April is Military Child Month. This is month for celebrate resiliency of military children, scholarships are awarded to this effect as well during this month. I won't lie, someday I hope 1 of my children will win that scholarship. But that is small beans compared to the bigger issue we are faced with. How do civilians interact with military kids and the mentality that we are all broken? The truth is, the military community knows that our kids aren't broken. We know how strong and amazing our kids are. We brag on them left and right. We know how difficult all of this is and we try to help ease the pain but they somehow end up amazing us and helping us instead. But the rest of the community...they could learn a thing or two from the women I have come to call my friends. The rules haven't changed for my son. He still has a nap time, bed time, he still must say please/thank you/excuse me/yes, he must listen or face the consequences for disobedience. The consequences haven't even changed. Though, if something isn't working the hubs and I discuss it and come up with a new tactic. No one pities my son. No one thinks he is broken. At least not in the community of people that are core to our day to day lives. But that day, that high school volunteer? It was all over her face. This child is broken by his absentee father. I didn't immediately let myself process her face; I would have never been able to control my temper if I had. But after I had a moment I did process her face, the body language that immediately changed, the whole picture. This girl thinks my child is broken. He is not broken. He is fierce. And damn it he wants to go to Hawaii, because he knows he gets his daddy back when we move again. He isn't broken. And neither is any other military kid; at least not because their parent(s) in the service. 

So each day, I have to remind myself that I am doing the important work of raising my kids. Some days I am a single mom with long distance emotional support, and some days I am just mom and dad is right there. But every single day I am 1/2 of the parenting team that supports and grows my military children. My husband has been working at carving a pine wood derby car to send our son for this up coming week's race, and the other week the OIC where we are stationed taught my son how to throw a baseball. You see, my son isn't broken because of the military. His life is filled with more role models and a better support team because of the military. So if you're a civilian reading this and you think military kids are broken, please rethink your position. Because they are anything but broken. 

Will you just fucking relax!?

I cannot tell you how many times my husband probably screams in his head that I need to relax. I cannot tell you, not because I don't know, but because I've lost count. I suppose if you counted it 1 for every second that he is awake that would be a general idea of how often he thinks this. I am sure that a lot women feel this way. Or men. Because I tell him to calm the fuck down a lot as well. If he's home, odds are that I have said it to myself every second I'm awake and verbalized it at least twice. It's a mutual theme in our family and marriage: RELAX, CHILL OUT, CALM THE FUCK DOWN, ROLL WITH IT.

We weren't always like this. We were not always uptight stuffy types. Seriously. We weren't. We used to go on camping trips all over the state. Not super structured ones. I remember all of them. I remember when he forgot to pack my tent poles when he was packing for us and we had to sleep in the car. I remember taking him all over the state to see the beautiful and amazing things I love about our state and we went to Pinnacles National Monument and the mosquitoes were so thick we barely made it through dinner before retreating to the car. I remember when he took me and the wonder dog to Dillons Beach and the unexpected cows. I remember when we were on Soda Lake Road out on the Carrizo Plains and he was flipping out that I was driving too fast so I applied the break at the wrong moment and had to keep the suv from flipping. That particular moment stands out as the reason why we don't backseat drive each other. We used to have 2 hours between jobs and run to the local quarry to get some bouldering in, or worked half days and got out for a quick hike. Day off? Grab the snowshoes and hit the snowed over trails with the wonder dog. We used to be laid back and easy going. As long as our bills were paid we were good. And then...we had kids. No joke.

I had this idea that I wanted to be a stay at home mom and home school my kids. I had big big BIG plans for our family. We would still be bohemians that only worried about paying bills and getting to the next adventure. We would drive all over the country and teach our kids all about our natural world and we would have awesome hippy kids that can send a 5.14 by age 9, thru - hiked the JMT with us by the age of 5, and eventually be able to identify trees by their leaves, nuts, bark, or pinecones. I had big, delusional dreams. Then I had my son. My amazing and beautiful son.

He and his little sister are the lights of my world. I want all the same things for them but do you know what happens when you become a mom? Forget the metaphorical monsters and pitfalls in life, the hormonal changes that make you suddenly hyper aware that your child is 3 inches from a ledge of a 4" high step. And then I start to reign in the crazy. I'm not even kidding. I was at a potluck dinner at our church recently. Small thing, just about 10 folks including our pastor. Hubs was at work so I was being super mom with both kids and ghetto paella. We're doing a game and my son is off with some older boys who have repeatedly promised me that they will not let my son walk out the front doors, through the parking lot, across the highway and off the cliff into the ocean, and my daughter is on the stage playing with a friend and some other tinies. While trying to do this game/interactive thing I am also watching my daughter. She is being supervised by my friend, but I am also keeping watch, while our pastor is having a great laugh at me as I am visibly having to calm myself down and not leap across the table and rush the tiny stage to save my daughter from getting too close to the edge. I've become the mom that has to stuff the helicopter back into the hangar every 10 minutes. I've gotten pretty good about it with my son. He took a spill on new year's day and while everyone was freaking out, I was calmly letting them know that he was fine. I was that chill mom that was letting her kid dust himself off. But I am having to learn it all over again with my daughter. Poor hubs is...stressed. Everything about our kids stresses him out. He has yet to figure out how chill out with 1 child, forget 2. So we are 2 wound up tight people who can remember what it was like before we were parents and wound up. We still dream of big granite walls, pine needle covered floors, and the sound of waterfalls. We still dream the dream.

Being a parent doesn't mean that we stopped having a life. It doesn't mean that we aren't the same people. I mean...we aren't the same people, but we want the same things and we are struggling to reconcile who we are and what we want. We need to figure out how to reconcile those two things. And so, as my husband is off doing that military thing across the country for a few months I have been preparing to refind all those beautiful things that I love and that got stuffed away when I started having kids. Not that my life ended, but that I put some things on hold so that I could be with my kids for the first year of their lives. Because while I no longer want to be super stay at home home, I do want to have these memories. I want my kids to get all the mom they want, no work to interfere, in the first year. I know that for my sanity though, I need to have my kids go to school. Maybe I'll be an 80% stay at home mom, take a few clients as I see fit, but also, I want to get back to the things that I love and those things are a part of having my kids. I want to share those things with my kids, but if I walk away permanently from them, then I can't share those things with my kids. I am investing in myself, and my kids, by getting back to what I love. To keep myself from missing my husband too much I am going to get back to hiking, running, photography, I'm going to keep teaching my son to fish (maybe we'll use real bait this year), I'm going to make my daughter's first doll, play my guitar until my fingers bleed, I'm going to invest in myself and the things that I am passionate about. Because that is investing in the 2 people I am most passionate about: my kids.

ps. When hubs get back, we'll have to make sure he is investing in the things that he is passionate about too. Maybe he'll chill out a bit...a girl can dream.

The Tidy Home Myth

First, let me get this out of the way.

If you have a perfectly tidy home or think that everyone should, I am going to invoke the words of Hellen Mirren:

FUCK OFF!!

For the rest of us:

Don't let those people get you down. I read a blog post today about how to have a company ready clean house everyday.

Here's the thing I've learned through my life as a wife and mother and we'll as a human being. This is all crap. I do these things. Almost every single one (I don't make my bed, though I may start because it does look nice), and my house is still a damn wreck.

Baskets/bins? Got it!
Dishes run at night? On it!
Laundry is a daily thing!
Clean as I cook? Do it!
Clean one area every other week? Psh, every week!
The fridge? Ya, hubs has got that covered!

Seriously, we've got these lists covered in spades!

REALITY
I have 2 small children. I put my dishes away most mornings and load the dishwasher throughout the days as needed. But I have 2 small kids. So sometimes, I don't get to it until 10 am or nap time. After I put my babes to bed at night I rotate the laundry, folding whatever is in the dryer and drying whatever is in the washer. The next morning I will start refilling the washer. But at night? Once they are asleep there isn't any laundry to do, because, after bath time I collect all the laundry and start the washer. By the time they are asleep the washer has finished and clothes ready for the dryer.

I love wipes! Clorox, Lysol, Windex, Scrubbing Bubbles etc. They make my life easier. Have a spare 2 minutes? Grab a wipe and get the counters! Grab a wipe and get all the mirrors in the house! This is how a good chunk of my cleaning gets done. I have a spare minute here and there So I grab a wipe and start cleaning something. Toilet seats and tanks, counters, table top, glass stove top, sliding glass door, microwave door, mirrors etc. I wipe down door knobs toos! I meal prep, wipes are good for this too. (Raw poultry sucks). Makes my clean up easier and frees up some time. I don't just meal prep, I plate prep. Each night I set out the serviceware and/or cookware for breakfast. Glasses, bowls, spoons, plates, forks, skillet, waffle iron, whatever it may be. I prep!!

Dude, I use Clorox tabs in my toilet tanks just to make cleaning easier. I have a Roomba, that I love and use multiple times a week. I take every step to keep my home clean. But do you know what happens?

LOVE HAPPENS

A tiny tyrannical three year old whirls through my house like a tornado and BAM! It looks like I was raised in a barn and trying to raise my own kids in one. My husband comes home, and frankly I would rather snuggle up in bed with him than cling to my routine. My infant needs all of me for an entire day and we cloth diaper so that effects our laundry cycles. My beloved canine side kick decides every towel in the house smells so damn good he must roll on all of them. Drag them out into an open space and roll all over dispersing his hair like gold coins to the peasants in Disney's Three Musketeers (redistribute the wealth). Now I must wash more laundry, and vacuum more. And do know how much time for me and for sleep this leaves??

NONE

Absolutely none. That's why, when my husband is home, I don't panic or flip out that the house gets worse, the dishes aren't all cleaned, laundry isn't fully finished, folded, and put away. I don't mind the toothpaste spray on my bathroom mirror. Because for the short periods that he's home, loving him, being loved by him, and loving our kids together...that is so much more important!! That is what keeps me going. That is the gold of life. My husband always wants to leave me with less mess, less to take care of and do. But in doing so he leaves me with less of him. So I continually stress that he doesn't need to. Because loving on him and being loved by him, that's a part of self care. That's the part that feeds into my soul and our marriage. Makes me strives to be a better me.

I told our housing person the other day that I don't keep a clean house, just so that other people can feel good about their homes. I'm considerate like that. She politely laughed, but trust me; should she ever get married and have kids someday she will appreciate my comment more.

Love is like a hurricane..

I might get preachy here. I ask for your indulgence now.

Those of you who know me (like you've stood opposite me sort of know me; not just read this blog), and call me friend know a few things about me. Some of those things:

•I'm sassy. Too much sass at times. My husband really should not have joined the military with a wife this sassy.

•I'm outspoken. Another reason a wife like me is a disadvantage in the military.

•I swear.

•I believe that Jesus is my personal Lord and Savior. He is the Messiah...and I swear.

•I believe in science

•I'm sarcastic

•I'm empathetic

•I love my husband beyond reason and justification

•I LOVE margaritas

Let's leave the list there for now. That's really all we need for the purposes of this entry.

Marriage fucking sucks

Dude, I love the man. My love for him aside I could read you a laundry list of the shit he has done to piss me off, hurt me, damage our relationship, our financial stability, our families...the list could go on for awhile. The list that I could rattle off right now, and any second of any day (because I'm a freaking elephant and am cursed with the inability to forget), includes things that many many people consider deal breakers. My Bible would let me walk away guilt free. You know what wouldn't let me walk away? LOVE.

The list doesn't matter. And some of you have let me sob tears and snot into your shoulders at some really low points. So hear me when I say that the list truly doesn't matter.

What matters?
Humility.
Love.
Grace.
Compassion.
Faith.

People like to say that their marriage is the most important thing. That their kids come second to their marriage. I don't believe in this. Some say that their kids come before their marriage, that their children will always be more important. With the exception of abuse, I don't believe in this. I say that the family matters most. Anyone who has kids knows that what I am about to say is truth. If you and your spouse are fighting, your kids behavior will suffer. If you and your spouse aren't on the same page, your kids will suffer. If you and your spouse aren't having enough sex, your kids will suffer. (Do it for the kids...I'm going to hell). You can't really place kids over marriage or marriage over kids. It doesn't work like that. How does it work? It's a living breathing monster that evolves everyday. Some days there is better clarity, and you can see your own faults better than the days before. Some days it's foggier than Fresno, Ca and you can't see past the next 10 minutes. You hate your spouse, the kids are screaming, you can't hear yourself think, and you just realized that you went out in public with a leaky boob. Some days, the world is perfect and you know with absolute certainty that everything is as it should.

How Am I Still Married?

It's simple. My husband is amazing at forgiving me and I am amazing at loving him. It's a weird thing. Forgiveness is the only way that a marriage makes it in this world. And, if you believe in Jesus, we have the most perfect model of forgiveness. No matter what you've done, Jesus still loves you, still died for you, still got your back man. Who in your life can you say that about? I doubt many marriages can say that about themselves. I don't know that mine can.

There's a second part to this, and it's maybe even more important than the first part. We struggle everyday to learn the others strength. I struggle to learn to be more forgiving...or to at least get there quicker. A cousin of mine once laughed about me being unforgiving. He laughed because he knows that sooner or later (usually later) I will forgive - I'm not an unforgiving person. But my husband is the forgiving guru that I study under. And he struggles everyday to love me in the most awesome way. Believe me, it's not easy to love someone so completely and show them that love in a way that is meaningful to them.

"She's worth more than she's ever dreamed of."

Forgiveness is easy to give in the face of amazing love. My husband is naturally a very forgiving person. He doesn't hold a grudge too often. But think about this: even he can grow angry and bitter. I've seen it. I've seen my husband hurl his phone across a room and shatter it into pieces after an angry call with his mom. A situation so deadlocked in anger and bitterness, my husband lost his Dudeness. How do you forgive? How do we make it easier to be forgiven? Not in a Savior/mortal relationship but in a marriage between 2 measly humans. We love amazingly. We love with our whole hearts. We love from every corner of our being. We push ourselves out of our comfort for them. We learn them. We learn their quirks, facial expressions, body language, sighs, how they hold a pen. We become students of who they are. Each day is another page in the textbook of Them that we study; and each day is the practical application of what we've learned.

When you love like that, it's easier to forgive you when you misstep. When you falter. When you sin against your marriage. And by easy, I mean not as fucking hard. If you were loved like that, couldn't you forgive better. Wouldn't your heart heal quicker? The wounds wouldn't fester and rot causing the need for amputation. They would heal. Some wounds take longer than others; and we're not perfect so our forgiveness isn't either. But you would be more willing to commit to the forgiveness and relationship if you were loved by an all encompassing love.

David Crowder sings this song, and the most telling line about love, and forgiveness in the face of amazing love, is this:

I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way; how He loves us.

If your spouse loved you with an amazing love would you really have time to dwell on the bad stuff? If you loved your spouse like this, would they have time to dwell on the bad stuff?

My husband is worth more to me than he has ever dreamed. I love him deeper than he will ever fully comprehend. We get in fights and we have to work at this shit every fucking day. He pisses me off, I piss him off, we cry...it's marriage and it's fucking hard. But that's what makes it great. We work because he is amazing at forgiving me and I am amazing at loving him. And my love for him, it's worse than Jewish guilt, Catholic guilt, and Irish guilt combined. (Is that a thing?) I will keep making it easier to forgive me. Because Lord knows, we need something to be easier.