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How to Stay Married for 15 Years…Part Last

Continued from Part 2

  • Find a Mentor, be a Mentor

As I mentioned in Part 2, a more experienced couple came alongside us during a difficult time in our marriage. They recognized our struggle, having experienced dark times of their own. Without them, we might not be together now. (And insanely happy, I might add.)

In the last few years, we’ve been able to “pay it forward” by helping several other young couples through difficulties. We don’t spout wisdom or platitudes. We don’t give advice unless it’s welcomed. You might be surprised, though, how often people just want to know they’re not alone.

Reach out. You’re not alone. 

  • Do EVERYTHING Together

I’m totally kidding. Mutual hobbies are fun, as is time snuggling up for a movie, but everyone needs a little time to themselves.

When we were first married, I used to hang out with Hubby’s car-restoration buddies. I migrated from sitting on a greasy office chair in a big garage, to reading in the friend’s house and finally to waving goodbye as he headed off for some guy time.

Don’t get me wrong; we love to be together, but he needs time with the guys and I need time with the girls. We each need time alone without kids.

This weekend, Hubby took the kids to an event by himself because I was invited to a friend’s house. Another weekend, I took the kids to my aunt’s house.

Plan time for what YOU love. You’ll enjoy “together” time even more. 

  • Do the Taxes

Do you remember Full House?

In my favorite episode, toddler Michelle is upset because her best buddy, Uncle Jesse, wants to spend more time with his new wife. When Michelle asks her Uncle Joey why Uncle Jesse and Aunt Becky are unavailable, Joey says the newlyweds are doing their taxes.

Michelle asks, “Will they be doing taxes every night?”

Joey answers, “For the first couple of months…”

Several of the cards we received at our wedding referenced “doing taxes.” I love our friends.

Intimacy—in all its forms—is crucial for marriage survival. This article on ForeverFamilies should be required reading. (Read it.) Physical intimacy—SEX—(oh my gosh she said that) within marriage is important.

And yes, I said within marriage. Sure, the “fun” doesn’t disappear if you don’t have a ring on your finger, but the absolute trust and bonding that should happen is missing. Can you really give yourself completely to someone if they might walk away tomorrow? Great sex makes a healthy, happy marriage healthier, happier and more fulfilling. And it’s fun.

If you’re not regularly “doing taxes”…try it. Trust me. 

  • Guard Your Health

Taking care of ourselves while we have some ability to sway the balance in our favor is paramount. Of course, we don’t have real control over what happens in the end.

My uncle, in his 80’s, told me,

If I’d had any idea I’d live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.

In early marriage, we were in pretty good shape. In 2005, a doctor informed me I have Lupus. I freaked out for a while, took medication as prescribed, wore SPFLatexPaint and stayed out of the sun.

Our jobs required more time. Eating habits suffered. Gym time became obsolete. We both gained weight, a little at a time. The kids came to live with us and suddenly we ate more fast food in a month than we’d eaten in previous whole years. Pounds of candy and chocolate appeared for the children at every holiday, and we helped them eat it.

Then we had a bit of a scare as Hubby was diagnosed with Diabetes. In the last two weeks we’ve done everything we have been “planning to do” for the last several years…eat right, join (and go to) a gym, get better sleep.

We feel better, smile more and feel less stressed.

Don’t wait until you have a reason. Take care of yourself NOW.

  • Don’t Die

Sort of a no-brainer, I know.

We’ve had a couple near-death scares this year. First, our unintentional stunt-driving incident.

The last two years, we’ve remodeled most of the house; taking out walls, repairing bathrooms and completely restoring the kitchen. Most of these tasks were precipitated by leaks. The previous owner—let’s just say he made some…mistakes…while building the house. Like using less-than-stellar pipe connectors. And wiring the house in unexpected ways.

The second near-death scare happened last week. Hubby turned off the appropriate breakers to install new receptacles in the kitchen, bringing us to project completion. I turned away for a moment.

*FLASH* *POW*

The kitchen exploded in light and noise. I turned back to see Hubby, fingers blackened, holding the receptacle piece and panting.

Also, he was grinning. What a weirdo.

“Did you see that? I almost DIED!” he laughed.

I was not amused. If I ever see the previous owner again, I will kick him where it hurts. The receptacle was wired into another breaker marked for upstairs.

We start getting the diabetes under control, and he gets electrocuted. Super.

So yes, this may seem elementary, but here’s my final piece of advice: if you want to stay married for 15 years, try not to die. 

If you missed the earlier advice, you can find it here: Part 1 and Part 2.

Ok, your turn! Give us the best advice you’ve got.

 

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How to Stay Married for 15 Years…Part 2

Continued from Part 1

  • Don’t Speak

Needless to say, we broke up.

Seven years later, I saw him. We chatted (in real life, not online) for a few minutes and exchanged addresses. I was attending college out of state. For two years, we made casual connection via letters (yes, on paper, written in pen). I tried to explain what I’d meant, all those years ago. He said I did a better job this time.

We were both dating other people.

Life happened. We lost contact again.

During that time, our respective relationships ended. I decided not to date anyone seriously for a year; at the end of the year, I prayed.

“God, if you could send me someone exactly like him, but a Christian…that would be perfect.”

God did one better.

Him.

A year later, we were dating, doing our best to follow God. Together.

 

  • Speak

I wanted to marry him when I was thirteen. I wanted to marry him nine years later. When he asked me, on Christmas Day, I couldn’t speak.

We’d discussed engagement and even picked out a ring but he fooled me. “Let’s wait to get engaged until you finish your Master’s degree.” Next year.

Then he bought the ring, created an elaborate, beautiful scavenger hunt and asked me to marry him. I was so shocked and overcome, I stood with my mouth open, gasping like a landed bass.

When he’d waited long enough to be concerned, he asked, “Are you going to answer me?” With one word, I gave him my whole heart, forever.

A year later we tied the knot. Jumped the broom. Got hitched. Smashed the glass.

Best. Decision. Ever.

  • Feed Him before Midnight

Learning the rules of cohabitation is one of the most important lessons in marriage. Food guidelines are especially important to communicate.

A mentor during my college days informed me that “healthy dinner together” is key for family togetherness. Research from Cornell University shows she was correct.

Determined to get it right, I cooked elaborate meals upon arriving home each evening.

Two problems:

  1. we both worked long hours (7 pm or after) and
  2. Hubby had hypoglycemia; he needed to eat frequently to maintain sugar levels.

We rarely dined before 8:30 pm, and often ate much later. When Hubby breezed through the door around 7 pm and made himself a PB&J, I took offense. My homemade chunky pasta sauce wasn’t worth the wait?

Hindsight, and all that. I should have prepped meals to pop in the microwave, enabling us to eat earlier.

As it was, we had a daily tiff about the sandwich because I saw it as a personal affront to my culinary skills. He just needed to eat something. Anything. For a while, he acquiesced to my inane request and waited for dinner. During which time I made the acquaintance of Mr. Hyde (also known as Hungry Hubby).

Have you seen the candy bar commercials “for when you’re hangry” (angry because hungry)? It’s a thing.

I learned we could both be happier if I had a PB&J waiting for him. We still ate dinner together. Win-win.

 

  • Don’t Fight

Argument. Screaming match. Fight. Spat. Tiff. Row. Scrap. Knock-down-and-drag-out. Rumpus. Squabble. Brannigan.

Doesn’t really matter what you call it. Our first years were peppered with provocation. We both grew up in…vocally demonstrative…families. Angry? Yell. Mad? Yell. Annoyed? Yell.

The greater our passion surrounding a topic, the higher the decibel level.

I once heard a preacher say, “Church is the only place people shoot their own wounded.” He was wrong.

In the art of war, Hubby and I were Picasso and Van Gogh. We tossed barbed words, insinuations, blame and comparisons like grenades. We wounded each other with abandon.

Sometime around year five (during a lull in the storm), Hubby asked, “Have you ever noticed? We only yell about stupid stuff we blow out of proportion. If an issue is important, we work together to solve the problem.” He suggested we decide to stop screaming. We agreed.

Other than a stint in year seven when we were both acting like idiots (and I’ll admit freely that I was being the bigger idiot), we’ve managed to uphold our arrangement.

One of my proudest moments: last year, a counselor asked our children how they feel when “mom and dad have a big fight.” The kids looked at each other, confused, then said, “Daddy and Mama don’t fight.”

With a condescending grin, the counselor said, “Sure. So…how do you feel when they yell at each other?” The kids shook their heads.

“When they argue,” he tried.

“Daddy and Mama just work together on everything. They never fight,” the kids told him.

Since then, we’ve had a couple arguments (mostly stemming from occasional hormone fluctuations during which time I may become…unreasonable), but overall, we hold to our agreement.

Feel free to steal this idea; eliminating fights is great for the blood pressure.

  • Fight

As I mentioned above, Year 7 was not our best.

We almost broke up for good. Hubby had a bag packed in the trunk of his car. We discussed logistics. He said I could keep the house. I said I’d probably move out of state. We thought we had no options.

It’s easy to feel alone in the midst of a struggle. Even more so when it involves marriage; you’re separated from the person who should be your best friend.

If you’re smart, you don’t involve mutual friends, family members or work colleagues (they’ll take sides, hold lifelong grudges and give bad advice since they have no vested interest, respectively). That means, though, that you experience solitude in the grief.

Thankfully, a slightly older couple befriended us with the intent to mentor us. They could see our struggles; they’d been in similar straits and recognized the signs. Thanks to their care and committed support, we survived.

Help came from two other odd sources:

  1. Recognizing that a large percentage of our troubles stemmed from my issues, I went to a counselor who looked and sounded like Elmer Fudd, but everything he said made sense. 
  2. Our good buddy freaked out, telling Hubby, “You can’t leave. You’re the only normal married people I know!”

Fight, but not each other.

Another friend told us to be like mules.

“When horses are threatened, they freak out and run around, accidentally kicking each other. Predators can take them down. Mules put their heads together and kick out at the danger. Keep your heads together. Your spouse is not the enemy.”

Here’s what we learned: Love is a choice, not a feeling. Fight for your relationship. Anything worth having comes at a price. We fought—against our own selfishness and desire for an easy out—and won.

If you’re thinking about divorce, this guy has some good advice.

Fight FOR each other.

Continued…

How to Know if She’s Cheating

Cheating causes heartbreak, anger and car vandalism.

According to the eHarmony advice page, cheating is never okay.

I beg to differ.

Sometimes cheating can cause the other person in whom you have an interest to become more…clingy interested.

And if that’s what you’re after, the end justifies the means. Right?

WordPressBlogConfessionTime: I’ve been cheating. With panache and impunity.

I exhibit none of the signs of cheating listed in the link above. You need a cheater mentor? I’m your gal.

Now, I admit, I’m just in it for the cuddle time. And hugs. And occasional kisses, but only on the cheek.

The reasons women cheat are varied, but remaining in the top few justifications: we just wanna be loved. Attention and affection, per Daily Mail. My motivation is no different. And if getting some affection means going outside the relationship, well, is that so wrong?

I didn’t actually mean to cheat. It crept up on me. I swear.

Just minding my business, drawn in sure and slow by the warmth of unadulterated devotion.

Hubby looked me in the eye and spat, “You’re cheating! And it’s OBVIOUS.”

I stared at him, stunned.

And then he grinned at the little blonde girl wrapped around my middle.

Not our kid. 

My friend’s daughter adores me (and I return the love with wholehearted joy). There’s nothing quite as heady as the pure devotion of a three year old.

However, concerned that it would strain the already difficult relationship (click for info about Reactive Attachment Disorder) with our daughter, I used to limit playing with my little friend with our girl present.

A couple months ago, Hubby encouraged me to stop worrying and just have a good time being the Fun Adopted Auntie.

I’ve followed his advice with unexpected consequences.

Our girl’s jealous. 

A second little friend has made recent advances into Niecedom, doubling the likelihood my girl will see another child hugging me.

The morning Hubby made his laughing accusation of “cheating” on our daughter, my friend’s little sprite climbed all over me, snuggled on my shoulder and dragged me across the crowded Cub Scout gathering by my pinkie.

Five minutes later, our daughter was glued to my side, playing with my hair, rubbing my back. Hubby looked over the heads of our friends and winked as she draped her arms around my neck.

In the past month, she’s snuggled up to me on the couch of her own accord at least five times. And yes, I’m counting. Prior to my little cheating spree, we’ve had about five snuggles in the last six months.

Reactive Attachment Disorder kids tend to save their affection for “safe” individuals. Acquaintances, friends’ mothers, Sunday School teachers, counselors, aunts, grandmothers. People present for the moment, but not for the long term.

If you’re the long term caregiver (especially the mother figure), you’re dangerous to a RAD child. You might worm your way past defenses, convince her to care and then abandon her, just like birth mom (or other original offender). You can’t be allowed to infiltrate. You must be pushed away to prevent more heartache.

I grasp the concept. Understand the impetus behind the behavior. Most of the time, I don’t take it to heart. Much.

Having her take an interest in being my daughter has been refreshing. I’m not banking on it continuing forever, especially since we’re coming up fast on teenagerhood. But it gives me a glimpse of hope.

Just maybe, after she’s done with seventh grade snappiness, eighth grade animosity, ninth grade nastiness and tenth grade tantrums, we can be friends.

They say cheaters never win…but even if it’s temporary, I’ll celebrate this.

Right after I lock up all our spray paint.

 

 

 

 

 

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