Do I Ask Too Much of a Husband?

Am I asking too much of the husband that I don’t have?

Maybe you never did this, but when I was a teen it was popular among girls of my stripe to write ‘wish lists’ of what we wanted in our future husbands.  Since I was a goody-goody nice Christian girl, I wrote a lengthly list containing things like ‘must be passionately chasing after Jesus’ and ‘must serve in a church’ and eschewed shallow things like ‘tall, dark, and handsome’.

Mmm… tall, dark, and handsome.

As I age (yeah, the ripe age of 24, ha ha) my lists have taken on a pragmatic edge.  At fourteen I could barely look a guy in the face.  Now I’ve had the joy and pain of working with heaps of them, including a couple of tall, dark, gorgeous jerkfaces.  The more I know what I definitely don’t want, the more the good comes into sharp relief.

But I’m beginning to think even this new list may be too idealistic.  Let me list off a few items, and you can give me some feedback.

1. Must Not Live With His Mother

I don’t condemn the guys who live in their mom’s basement… exactly.  I know there are good reasons, and given the chance for a do over, I’d stay there a little longer too.  But I moved out of my childhood home at eighteen, and have been autonomous ever since.  I’ve forgotten what it was like to have a self-replenishing fridge, and self-washing dishes, and to get home from work and have dinner waiting for me.

I figure, if I would enter a relationship with a young man who has not lived independently, I will just replace his Mom as the fridge-replenisher and become the bad guy who reminds him to pay the rent bill and pick up eggs after work.  I want to be on equal footing with him.  I’d rather duke it out over HOW to run the home than have to teach him how to use a washing machine.

Is that horrible of me?  It sounds horrible when I read it.

2. Spends Very Little Time on Video Games

It’s not that I’m against video games, but the idea of a grown man spending hours in front of a TV, fighting imaginary battles, playing imaginary sports games and racing imaginary cars is unsettling and borderline on ridiculous.  I’m sorry.

Some might say the same about writing fiction, I don’t know.

Is life so boring that he must escape into an imaginary world?  Does he have no real battle to fight–no passionate pursuit?  Is he just lazy?  I can understand a bit of TV or gaming to unwind.  But hours upon hours of valuable time that can never be replaced?

3. Has Basic Financial Competency

If he can’t make a monthly budget, I don’t care if he looks like a GQ model.  I have worked VERY hard to learn financial skills.  I’m no accounting whiz, but I respect my money and do my best to be fiscally responsible.  Does he have to be wealthy?  Heck no!  Gainfully employed with a realistic picture of his cashflow?  Absolutely.

Now, how does one ask about this without sounding like a nosy gold digger?

4. A Desire to Do Better, Be Better

In a word: ambition.  He may not know what his life’s work will be yet, but he isn’t content to coast through life.  Whatever job he has, he does his best at.  He reads and learns constantly.  He examines himself and when he sees something he doesn’t like, he works on it.  He wants to leave a legacy, not just a grave marker, when he dies.

Turns out, this is a tall order.  I have met very few young men who pursue excellence.  But because excellence is so important to me, I know that if he does not, I will not be able to respect him as he deserves.  It is very important to me that I can respect my husband.  I ask no more of him than I ask of myself.  Not perfection, but a hunger for growth.

5. A Man of Courage and Character

I’ve worked with men who lie when the truth is inconvenient, cut corners to save effort, and would rather ignore (or rant about) a problem then fix it.  I doubt they realize how detrimental this is to relationships.  They lie to save my feelings, or cut a corner rather than correct me.  They want to be liked–I get that.  But I don’t trust them, so their amiable personality means little.

Over the years I’ve learned that truth isn’t as black and white as I thought, and honesty is much more difficult than just not telling a untruth.  But I need to know that he isn’t a coward.  He tries his best to do what is right. He’s not going to lie to get himself out of a hard place.  He’s not going to cheat on something because it’s little and ‘doesn’t matter.’

If he cheats at a card game, he’ll cheat on anything.  It’s just a matter of time.

6. A Man Who Loves Jesus

Honestly, the other four don’t mean anything without this one.

The passionate pursuit thing?  Life experience tells me that the burning flame of enthusiasm waxes and wanes, but love stays the course no matter what.  I have a passion to write. Sometimes writing is fun, even euphoric.  Sometimes writing is drudgery.  But I never give up.  Same deal here.

To love and to be loved by Jesus is transformative, and this man’s life will bear evidence of that transformation.

So How Am I Doing?

Are any of these unrealistic?

I said it already: I don’t ask of him any more than I ask of myself.  And I don’t want him to BE me.  I’d probably kill him.  One of me is enough, trust me!  But could there possibly be a man who lives life as intently as I do?  Or am I expecting too much of the poor sap?

What would you add to the list?

 

 

 

The Top 10: Swapping Heads, Swapping Stories

How many stupid things can one person do in a year?  And write about them?

Yes, I’ve been blogging for a year now, and as I look back over what I’ve written, I realized that much more has happened than I thought.  I’ve lost weight, I’ve written a book–and I’ve had my foot run over by a truck.

I began writing while unemployed, and now, doubly employed, I’m still going strong.  This is post 101, and to celebrate, I’m listing off my top 10 posts.

1. For Trade: One Head

Have you ever wished you could escape from your own head?  In a moment of silliness and disillusionment, I wrote an ad, trying to sell my head.  Read through the comments section to see other’s ads for their heads.  Some are hilarious, others are heart-breaking.

2. I Don’t Plan on Getting Married

Single gals can get pretty desperate around Valentines day.  I decided that this time, I wouldn’t be the one saying “I’m okay with being single,” because I wasn’t.  The response to this article was amazing.

3. The Funny Version 

Tragedy plus time equals humour, I was told.  So when my foot was run over by a truck, I tried to reframe it as a comedy.  By the way, if you want to meet cute medics, put your foot in front of a truck.

4. Why I Left Christian Music

If I love Jesus, why don’t I love Jesus music?  Btw, few things will bring out the therapist in your Christian friends more than admitting you don’t like Christian music.

5. Fat Girl’s Guide to Fashion Freedom

Do you ever look at pictures and say “I can’t believe I wore that?”  When I was little I was fearless about my fashion choices, but when I grew into a chunky, acne riddled teen, my confidence evaporated.  How could I get it back?

6. The Great Pizza Failure

After an epic quest for low-carb pizza produced disgusting results, I had a small existential crisis.  In hindsight it was pretty funny.

7. Trim Healthy What?

After enough people asked me ‘aren’t you doing some diet thing,’ I decided to own up to it and explain what Trim Healthy Mama is about.  Update: I am indeed still on that ‘diet’, and have dropped two pant-sizes.

8. 5 Ways to Name Your Baby (Or Not)

I don’t have a baby, but I think this is how to name one–if the baby names I’ve been hearing are any indication.  Did that Mom just call her kid ‘Satan’?

9. I Caught the Bouquet. Now What?

I caught the bouquet at my friends wedding.  I know that’s supposed to mean that I’m next to get married, but I’m not holding my breath.

And I still maintain that I did NOT knock that girl over.

10. Comment Section Wars: 3 Ways to Rise Above

Some people truly enjoy a good fight.  If you want to attend one, pick a YouTube video at random and scroll down to the comment section.  After reading through a comment section debate, I offered these three tips on how to succeed in this blood sport.

I’ve gained a bit more experience in this topic now, but I still stand by these three points.

Well, those are my ten–to a degree, in no particular order.  Now that I pick them I can think of others, but there we are.  Friends, it’s been a good year. Thanks for meeting me in the coffee shop and saying, ‘hey, I read your blog’.  It still gives me a thrill.  Thanks for  your ‘therapeutic’ advice.  Thanks for offering up your head when I needed to swap mine.

Here’s to a new year.

 

 

I Don’t Plan on Getting Married

I think wedding season and Valentines day must put all chocolate and girly-drink companies in the black for the year. I mean, those days can be pretty damn depressing for a single gal.

About this time, all the single ladies start posting things to Facebook like “I’m single, but I’m happy and I don’t need a man to define me and…”

Yeah, I don’t buy it. There are some fantastic single ladies out there, but deep down, I don’t believe they’re okay with their relationship status.

I’m not.

If I’m okay, why do I feel like I’ve been gut-punched every time a friend gets engaged?

My mom was married at 19, and as a girl I thought I’d do about the same. Nineteen came and went without so much as a date and I began to go through what every girl goes through–is there something wrong with me? It it because I’m fat? Have acne?

When I graduated from college (a conservative Christian school), somewhere between seven and ten of my classmates were getting married because that’s where Christian kids find spouses–Bible College.

Not me.

I didn’t want a career. I wanted to get married, have kids, and stay home with them. But I began to realize that things weren’t panning out the way I’d hoped. About that time, I stopped planning on getting married.

I want to get married, don’t get me wrong. But I can’t plan my life around something that might never happen. I can’t wait for my life to start, because it has already started. What will I make of it? All I can control is my own actions.

What I have to go on, so far, are my passions. I have a passion to learn, to teach, to write and to create. So I teach eight rambunctious kiddies and find happiness and in the way they clamour to tell me what’s up in their lives. I plan a long-term career as a writer, working every day to make it a reality. I create with my imagination, and I learn constantly.

I learn about relationships, and how to make them strong. If I never marry, this knowledge won’t be wasted. I strengthen my beliefs, hoping one day to teach them to my kids, but knowing that a strong faith will serve others regardless. I’m a good cook, and I can keep a house, and i’m trying to be good with money.

It’s actually fulfilling in itself.

I don’t want to come off as the smarmy type who has it all together. I know I’m not because of the crying fit I had when writing this. I’m lonely sometimes, and feel a bit like the last pair of shoes on the bargain rack. But it is what it is. How will I deal with it?

I’ll be okay with not being okay, but never, ever let that stop me from having a great life.

Aunt Win’s Last Lesson for Me: a Tribute

She lives in my memory as a tiny lady with bright eyes behind her glasses, and lines around her mouth that said she spent more time smiling than frowning. Her body was slight to gauntness, but spry and active, as was her mind. She never married or had children, but I, along with dozens across Manitoba, am ‘her kid’—through her teaching, her love, and her giving.

Her life was one of courage and adventure from the beginning. In 1913, Aunt Win’s parents struck out from Staffordshire, England, to Canada in hopes of getting a good start to their family. Her dad had heard that the Canadian government wanted to bring settlers into northern Manitoba. They found themselves in the rocky, bush country of Grahamdale, near Lake Winnipeg. They had nothing of their own, except for the things provided by the government—a couple horses and cattle, and a bit of money.

With those small resources, they hewed a farmstead out of the trees, and coaxed wheat out of the stony soil. It took ingenuity to get by. To make a bit of cash, her mother took up baking for the large population of bachelors in the area, and baked bread every day but Sunday.

Aunt Win was born in the sixth year of their life in Canada.

But in 1921, life took a heartbreaking turn. Her father became very sick with Typhoid fever. Though his wife and a friend managed to convince the weekly train to take him to Winnipeg in the unheated baggage car, he succumbed to his illness. Seven months later, their second child, Sam, was born.

In 1924, Win’s mother took her two small children and moved south to Dugald. There she married a man who was renting a farm there. They all worked hard to make ends meet. Young Win fed the hens, gathered eggs and carried firewood. She was very young when she learned how to knit socks and scarves for the family.

She recounted the story to me of the first cake she baked—a white cake in a round pan. She served it at mealtime. When her brother, Will, tasted it he fell off his chair! When everyone rushed to see what was the matter, he pretended it was because the cake was so awful.

She told me about having no winter coat to wear to school until a neighbor lady altered a large coat and gave it to her. Win was very pleased to get to wear this new coat, with its fur collar and side-belt.

In Win’s teen years the family lived at a farm near My hometown. She went to school at the Beatrice school until she began taking correspondence courses in the latter grades. She loved her studies (except for history), and she loved the idea of being a teacher. She even turned the side of an old car radiator into a blackboard, and used it to teach her little sister, Sylvia, numbers, letter and arithmetic.

In her teens, Win was working to support her family. This made her studies difficult. But she was determined to be a teacher. So she saved up her money, got a job as a housekeeper in Winnipeg, and enrolled in a business course. Tenacity paid off. When the business college needed a teacher, she was ready and jumped at the chance.

Win taught at the business college for six years before becoming a teacher under the regular Department of Education. She then began teaching High School in Morris. That first day at Morris school—meeting the teachers and her new students–was a highlight. She was finally where she wanted to be.

Aunt Win loved to help her students learn. At the end of the year, when she saw those who had struggled hard to get their grades succeed, it was worth the time and energy. It pleased her to hand out report cards and think about how much she was able to teach them. She emphasized that “those were great days.”

She really missed her students when she retired in 1984. Win wasn’t ready to retire, but the school told her that she was getting to that age, so she would just have to get used to it. Instead of teaching school, she began teaching Sunday school.

Aunt Win was my Sunday school teacher. I confess I don’t remember much of what she taught, but I do remember how we got to do crafts. We would make things of wood, paper, cloth, bottles, paint, paper mache—pretty much anything. I learned a lot about painting, gluing, and woodwork from her.

I also remember her generosity. She loved to give gifts to ‘her kids’—the many children she got to teach over the years. She would buy ice cream for all the kids at church. If she came over to our place, it was often with a treat. She would give us Easter and Christmas cards (with a five-dollar bill for each of us). She would go out of her way to come to our place to hear us recite our Bible memory verses. She helped me with my writing in my junior high years—reading my essays and giving me editing feedback. If we biked over, she was ready to give us cookies and tell stories.

Aunt Win died this winter. I traveled over skating-rink roads back to my hometown so I could sing at her funeral. The picture at the front of the church was Aunt Win in middle age. It struck me as odd, because all my twenty-two years I had known her as an elderly woman. But the stories that were told were quintessentially her: adventure, fun with her nieces, nephews (like letting them drive her big, old car up and down the driveway until it overheated), great-nieces and great-nephews, generosity, love for people and her God.

Recently I was telling someone about being afraid to not get married—I didn’t want to be alone in my old age. Soon after I found the “Memoirs of Aunt Win”, which I wrote when I was fifteen, and from which the details of this article are taken. Many lessons can be drawn from her life-story, but I will point out one: she was unmarried, but she wasn’t alone. She had a family of brothers and sister, nephews and nieces, and their children who loved her dearly. They told stories about how they loved to visit her because it always meant fun adventures and good cookies, and how she cared about what was happening in their lives.

I see great possibility for myself in this, ‘cause I’d love to be the crazy, fun Aunty! Seriously, though, there will always be a demand for someone who cares, who pours themselves into others. Aunt Win was such a person.