Okay, so he's not so little, but here's to 14 years of putting up with my cooking, finishing each meal with a "thanks, Babe, that was great," whether it was frozen fish sticks or a crispy pot roast. Of course, he knew when he married me that Rice Krispy treats were my forte, so he was at least mildly prepared.
Here's to walking me through becoming a real football fan, not just a professional tailgater. To turning this what-a-great-catch girl into a bonafide fan who sees holding when the refs don't and notices the awesome block by the "what's his name lineman" that everyone else missed because they were watching the hot shot running back.
Here's to lots and lots of Saturday mornings on baby and boy duty while I met my friend for a long training run. Here's to hauling those same boys and babies to every finish line so that no matter when I crossed the finish line, ALL my boys were cheering for me. Especially the St Jude race when it was still only 35 degrees by the time we finished. Oh, and that Saturday that the Georgia-Auburn game happened to be at the Exact. Same. Time. as the race.
Here's to solo movie watching for more than a decade. Because if there's one thing I'm not (next to a cook), it's a movie watcher. Someone has to come up with a pretty good plot to keep me up past midnight, and so far Bruce Willis and the Diehard crew just haven't done it. And he's Ok with that. Now.
Here's to moving five times and loading and unloading and driving that U-haul pretty much on your own, cause Lord knows, public schools don't pay for a coach's moving expenses. Along those same lines, here's to house hunting, choosing the best, and signing papers for three houses ALL BY YOURSELF in different states, praying the whole time that by the time I saw it and it was ours, I'd love it!
Here's to the teacher and the coach you are. Here's to the grown boys who still call you Coach. Here's to the nights you come home so tired, so late. Here's to the boys at home who wait, soaking up every ounce of you that's left after 15 hours in the classroom and on the field.
Here's to you my Love, for 14 years of living with me, loving me, laughing with me, and listening to me. Here's to 50 more years of baseball, football, and basketball games and practices; of Vacation Bible School and summer football camps; of new houses and new schools; of new babies and grand babies; of more education and bigger jobs; of big trips to celebrate milestones and small weekends just to relax; to starting kindergarten and graduating high school; to all the things that God puts in our future.
Here's to you, and to me, and to the boys who complete our family.
Here's to you, Coach, and today and 14 years of countless good and those all-but-forgotten bad (sorry Tanner--17 weeks in the NICU is hard to forget) moments that have made the days since July 31, 1999, the best years of my life.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
Happy Wife, Happy Life
A few days ago, as I was prepping the Silver Sneakers CD and getting ready to hit the mic, one of my sweet members ambled over to me and announced with a 16 year old girl's grin, "Today is our 59th wedding anniversary!" I immediately congratulated them and asked my usual question of all the sage folks in my group: "What's the secret?" Her answer was God, and I couldn't agree more. But as I thought about my handsome groom and our upcoming 14 year anniversary, I started thinking of some of the other little secrets that help to make a marriage work. Now I realize 14 years is a far cry from 59 years of material, but Coach and I must be doing something right. So here goes . . .
Why I Still LOVE Coach Kirk, or how to have a happy marriage:
1. He makes me laugh. Seriously, even if it means watching awful, horrible, terrible episodes of The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, or even Bachelor Pad, he's right there holding the remote, fast forwarding, rewinding through the questionable parts, and calling people douche bags so I don't have to do it.
2. He works hard. Like really hard. He gets a lot of slack sometimes from people who don't understand that because he works hard for our family, I want to fix his lunch, type his papers, and wait up for him after a long game or work night. I've seen too many episodes dating all the way back to Donahue and now Dr. Phil of women who want respect from their men and men who want to be served by their women to know that too many people don't understand that love means doing for others, but we do.
3. He feeds the homeless. No I'm not talking about working at a food bank or a soup kitchen. He actually stops at intersections and gives either money or food to those down-on-their-luck folks whose situations have come to roadside begging. How can you not love someone who loves the "unlovable?"
4. It's not his money, it's not my money. It's our money. Which is perhaps scary to some people, but to me it says, "we're in this together. I sink, we sink. You swim, we swim." I wouldn't have it any other way.
5. He dreams big and encourages me to do the same. Were he not a dreamer, we would never have moved to all the great places we have lived, and never would we have met the people who are now lifelong friends. I probably would never have run a marathon, finished a triathlon, started a blog, or dared apply for a college job. In his eyes, I can do anything. In my eyes, he is my hero.
6. He forgives. Yes, I do things that require asking forgiveness, and sometimes he even forgives me without my asking. That Bible in the front seat of his car isn't just for looks. Every morning he invests a little time to continue becoming the man of God he strives to be, and I am just one of those people lucky enough to benefit from what he reads.
7. He knows how to change a diaper, warm a bottle, and run the vacuum. I know how to mow the lawn, trim the hedges, and kill any spiders, wasps,or snakes who threaten our domain. Point is, nothing is entirely his job or entirely my job. We are a TEAM.
8.He LOVES his kids. He also isn't afraid to discipline them and expect big things from them. He practices tough love, but I've seen him "go to bat" for his kids in a way that puts this Mama Bear to shame. Tag-Team Parenting, we call it.
9. I LOVE to run. He LOVES to bench press the equivalent of a defensive lineman. I LOVE to read books in bed at night; he DVR's Wicked Tuna and pushes play just as I'm removing my bookmark. He does his thing; I do my thing. We don't have to love the same things and be together all the time. It still works. We still work.
And for that I am thankful. I am thankful for the fourteen years, three houses, three (almost four) children, multiple jobs, various cars, snow days, beach days, pool time, sports time, family time we have had. I wouldn't change anything, wouldn't add anything, wouldn't take any do-overs.
And I pity the young, aerobics instructor who asks me in 45 years what the secret to a successful marriage is. Maybe I should go ahead and just print this now and save her the trouble of an old woman bragging on her still-sexy 80 year old stud. She'll probably thank me:-)
Why I Still LOVE Coach Kirk, or how to have a happy marriage:
1. He makes me laugh. Seriously, even if it means watching awful, horrible, terrible episodes of The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, or even Bachelor Pad, he's right there holding the remote, fast forwarding, rewinding through the questionable parts, and calling people douche bags so I don't have to do it.
2. He works hard. Like really hard. He gets a lot of slack sometimes from people who don't understand that because he works hard for our family, I want to fix his lunch, type his papers, and wait up for him after a long game or work night. I've seen too many episodes dating all the way back to Donahue and now Dr. Phil of women who want respect from their men and men who want to be served by their women to know that too many people don't understand that love means doing for others, but we do.
3. He feeds the homeless. No I'm not talking about working at a food bank or a soup kitchen. He actually stops at intersections and gives either money or food to those down-on-their-luck folks whose situations have come to roadside begging. How can you not love someone who loves the "unlovable?"
4. It's not his money, it's not my money. It's our money. Which is perhaps scary to some people, but to me it says, "we're in this together. I sink, we sink. You swim, we swim." I wouldn't have it any other way.
5. He dreams big and encourages me to do the same. Were he not a dreamer, we would never have moved to all the great places we have lived, and never would we have met the people who are now lifelong friends. I probably would never have run a marathon, finished a triathlon, started a blog, or dared apply for a college job. In his eyes, I can do anything. In my eyes, he is my hero.
6. He forgives. Yes, I do things that require asking forgiveness, and sometimes he even forgives me without my asking. That Bible in the front seat of his car isn't just for looks. Every morning he invests a little time to continue becoming the man of God he strives to be, and I am just one of those people lucky enough to benefit from what he reads.
7. He knows how to change a diaper, warm a bottle, and run the vacuum. I know how to mow the lawn, trim the hedges, and kill any spiders, wasps,or snakes who threaten our domain. Point is, nothing is entirely his job or entirely my job. We are a TEAM.
8.He LOVES his kids. He also isn't afraid to discipline them and expect big things from them. He practices tough love, but I've seen him "go to bat" for his kids in a way that puts this Mama Bear to shame. Tag-Team Parenting, we call it.
9. I LOVE to run. He LOVES to bench press the equivalent of a defensive lineman. I LOVE to read books in bed at night; he DVR's Wicked Tuna and pushes play just as I'm removing my bookmark. He does his thing; I do my thing. We don't have to love the same things and be together all the time. It still works. We still work.
And for that I am thankful. I am thankful for the fourteen years, three houses, three (almost four) children, multiple jobs, various cars, snow days, beach days, pool time, sports time, family time we have had. I wouldn't change anything, wouldn't add anything, wouldn't take any do-overs.
And I pity the young, aerobics instructor who asks me in 45 years what the secret to a successful marriage is. Maybe I should go ahead and just print this now and save her the trouble of an old woman bragging on her still-sexy 80 year old stud. She'll probably thank me:-)
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