Before I begin, let me say that this is kind of an embarrassing blog for me to write. I usually pride myself on being as honest and transparent as possible in what I write. As a result, I am compelled to write this blog. I hope that, by the end, you may be able to tell why this was therapeutic for me.
It's been a tough week or so around here. After wrapping up a great weekend (a bit over a week ago now) with the oldest 3 of our 5 children and some friends at a Wisconsin Dells water park, we came home to pick up the youngest 2 children (ages 4 and 3). The 4 year old had spent the night before with a stomach virus and fever, and I could feel the impending doom that would spread to the rest of us. That was my first failure. I did feel very sorry for my little guy, because I could tell that he was miserable. However, just as present (or maybe even more so) in the forefront of my mind was trepidation and frustration with the fact that the rest of us were all doomed to get sick too. That being said, I must qualify this by saying that I have an intense hatred for vomiting. I have often said, "I would rather give birth than vomit," and that is really saying something, considering that my shortest and easiest labors were over 27 hours of straight back-to-back contractions. I cannot say emphatically enough how I dread stomach viruses. My selfishness caused me to feel more sorry for myself than I felt for my boy.
What has followed for that past week has been five of the seven of us coming down with some sort of illness. Of those of us who've been sick, some of us have had stomach symptoms, and all of us have had fevers, sore throats, and chest/nasal congestion. We have the flu.
The Ghost of Valentine's Days Past
I have always been a romantic - passionate, spirited, and a lover of gifts and gift-giving. Therefore, my expectations have always been high when it comes to obligatory gift holidays. My former husband (Brett) was a bad gift buyer. I only say that, because he would admit it himself. I recall that the first Valentine's Day we spent together (dating) he gave me a Vick's humidifier. I was almost 17, still under my parents' roof, and they had a humidifier should I be in need of one. He ecstatically pointed out that it was glow-in-the-dark. I was less enthusiastic, but I played it cool, not wanting to seem ungrateful. Fast forward to our first married Valentine's Day. I had spent weeks planning the special day. I had purchased him a gift and a card and had a special meal planned, and he had purchased me this ____. That's right. Nothing. You know he heard about it. I was almost 20, and possibly still a little bitter about the humidifier. I was mad. I didn't mind seeming ungrateful, because I was his wife now. He knew he was in the dog house, which prompted an emergency trip to Hallmark for one of the last cards on the shelf (which was not even specified for a wife) and a movie. What movie you may rightly wonder? Air... Force... One. I had never seen, neither did I wish to own, Air Force One. When I informed him of this, he was incredulous, stating that he had always wanted to see it. So what he had basically done was buy me (under duress) a gift for himself. The few years after that, he made annual trips with his brother to buy "the wives" gifts for Valentine's Day. This was done on Valentine's Day evening and resulted in my sister-in-law and I receiving identical glass plaques or something of the sort whenever they came home Valentine's Day night. This is just a very short list of his gift-giving misses throughout the 7 years we were married. [Aside: Please understand at this point that I am not trying to be negative toward Brett. I am not angry for the "bad gifts" (if there is such a thing), and it's very important to point out that these things had nothing to do with why our marriage ended.] I look back on these things as truly funny moments of our marriage. We were both so young and so immature - it's easy for me to see today all the goofy things that we did and to laugh at what I thought was so important at the time (and the fact that I thought those things were so important). I willingly admit that my expectations of the day were so high that they could not possibly have been met. Had Brett secretly built a helipad in our back yard and flown in (with his own secretly earned pilot's license), had two dozen roses awaiting me in the cockpit, taken me to Europe (having had unlimited gas installed in our magical helicopter) and landed us at the top of the Eiffel Tower where a candlelit dinner complete with all of my favorite foods was awaiting our arrival to be served by a French waiter while a violinist serenaded us with all of my favorite music, I would secretly have wondered why he had not planned an entire orchestra and packed me a personalized wind breaker with my name in hearts on the back (after all, it's chilly in Paris in February).
These past Valentine's Days taught me a few things when it comes to a "romantic" personality. 1) If either party forgets or neglects to "find time" to purchase a thoughtful gift for the other, it is a "lose/lose" situation for both parties. 2) The only possible good excuse for not purchasing a thoughtful gift on Valentine's Day for your beloved is extended hospitalization and/or death. 3) No matter how hard a person tries not to have expectations on Valentine's Day, it is truly impossible. 4) If even one word is uttered by either party to the effect of expecting/hoping/wanting a gift, the potential gift giver has missed their opportunity for the gift to be perceived as voluntary, treasured, and/or thoughtful. It has now become obligatory and tainted. 5) The only cards left to purchase Valentine's Day evening might possibly include the words, "Happy Valentine's Day, Grandma!"
The Ghost of Valentine's Day Present
About two weeks ago when I was at Walmart getting groceries, I bought a few things for them and a card for Mark. I already had in mind what I would buy for him as a gift, but I knew that would need to be purchased on line or at a specialty store, and I did that later. I bought the kids a few Valentine trinkets (as they don't have class parties like so many other kids do).
This past weekend, Mark and Austin (our teenager) went to the International Motorcycle Show in Chicago. They had a great time with some other guys and with each other. However, being a "home body", Mark was anxious to get back home to me and the kids as the day wore on, and he tried to hurry home to help me with all of the sick kids, which I appreciated so much. Violet had developed an ear infection on top of her other illness, and she was hysterically screaming in pain for almost the entire afternoon and evening of that Saturday. Mark helped so much with her - taking up with her where I left off - holding and rocking and lying in bed with her... trying anything he could to help soothe her pain. In addition to this, he prepared his Sunday School lesson (as he teaches 5th and 6th graders at our church). As we sat at the table for supper (Violet still wailing on my lap), Sadie looked at me and said, "Mom, I bet you're glad Mark and you are going on vacation in August!" I laughed at that, because I realized how utterly frustrated and exhausted we must both seem and how sweet it was that she wanted to remind us of an upcoming chance for relaxation - however remote it seemed to us at the time.
Mark took Austin to a men's study for guys at our church last night, and they barely arrived home in time for him to shower and get ready for work. As I put his card in his lunch box, he hurriedly (and worriedly) looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, I just haven't had time to buy you anything for Valentine's Day. I feel so bad." He rushed off to work, and said he might try to do an e-card or something like that. I said, "Well, I bought your gift on line, so you could always do it that way." That was the last of our conversation, but I really tried to determine within myself that whatever he did or didn't do for me would be fine. I have become much less needy when it comes to gifts in the past few years, preferring practical gifts mostly, because the lifestyles of married people with five children have necessitated it. He is often gone on my birthday and sometimes on our anniversary too because of his work schedule, and I have often told him that a hand-written note of encouragement is plenty good enough for me these days.
He arrived home this morning letting me sleep in, and printed off cards for me and the kids. When I awoke, he was handing the kids their cards along with a package of Starburst for each that he must have obtained at a gas station on the way home from work. I was disappointed that he had not hand-written anything or given me any sentiment. He commented, "Well, it would have been nice to have dinner out together tonight, but Austin has practice, and everyone is sick." I truly tried to hide my disappointment, but he detected it and pressed me for a reason. I (more willingly than I should have) expressed my frustration at our situation and lamented that, despite my attempt at low expectations, I was disappointed.
The advent of the Internet, especially Facebook, makes it so much easier to be discontented with my circumstances. I opened it this morning to no less than 2 dozen posts about what people have received for Valentine's Day or about Valentine's Day plans, and if I had something to brag about, I would be the first one to post it too. That's the way it works, right? Facebook is the "way to go, me and my fabulous lifestyle" outlet. [Aside: In fact, Facebook has made me a little afraid to start working out regularly, and I'll tell you why: I have friends who seem to have disappeared and been replaced by Billy Blanks. One day, they're posting about a regular, everyday stuff, and the next day, they're seeing a personal trainer, doing P90X 8 days a week, and doing triathlons 12 times a year. I totally admire these people (in a slightly annoyed kind of way), but I am loath to read their status updates. I know they are proud of their lifestyles, and I am proud for them, and I am the first to post when I've dropped 5 pounds, but I fear that were I to start spending an hour a day exercising, I might get carried away and become Denise Austen too. I wouldn't be able to go to dinner with a friend without telling them how fattening their dinner selection is. I once posted to my Facebook status something to the effect of, "I have way too many friends who post their workouts. I wish that just once someone would post, 'I ate half a pizza and a quart of ice cream by myself and spent the rest of the day on the couch watching TV,' that way I could live vicariously through your status and actually enjoy it." I think I accidentally hurt some feelings with that post, but I just think that human nature is funny. That being said, if you are one of my friends who works out and talks about it a lot on Facebook, I love and admire you and what you do, and I'm just jealous of your ambition. Let's go out for a cheeseburger and some tofu sometime soon.]
You may have noticed above the things I wrote in bold face type. Those are the things I forgot in my selfishness this morning. My hubby works hard. He loves being home with his family. He spends quality time teaching our kids to love me and love God. He serves others at our church. He snuggles his kids. He treats me so well. (Oh, and he's taking me on a vacation to Hawaii that he's spent a couple years of overtime money saving up for.) He IS my blessed Valentine. He already is. He doesn't have to buy me a gift. He is my gift. In case you didn't notice, I bought his card when I was already out at the store. I did my other shopping on line. I didn't go out of my way to make his day special either. As a married couple, we just can't sometimes. Life gets in the way of love sometimes. You'd think I would know that by now. Then again, love is only that... a compilation of life's craziness and the choice to love each other despite its imperfections. My shortcomings are many, and I hope it's clear that the title of today's blog is referring to my own Valentine's day failures and no one else's.
The Ghost of Valentine's Days Future
It's my sincere hope that in the future I remember the concept of this blog. I don't need gifts. I need to recognize the gifts that are all around me.
I once asked myself, in an effort to determine exactly what my expectations are, what would really make me happy on Valentine's Day (or any other gift holiday). The truth is, I couldn't define it at all. It couldn't be flowers or candy, because they are perishable and impractical. It couldn't be a vacuum cleaner or a food processor, because those things are "job-related". It couldn't be just dinner out, because I wouldn't have something to remember from the day. Bottom line? NOTHING met my criteria or expectations. My heart wants something that doesn't exist in the physical realm. True LOVE - untained, strong, passionate, lasting, and... supernatural. Putting expectations on a person will always end in disappointment, because we were created with an eternal longing that cannot (and was never meant to) be met in the temporal realm. God created me empty in order that I seek Him for true fulfillment.
A few things that I saw on Facebook today that were a blessing:
It's been a tough week or so around here. After wrapping up a great weekend (a bit over a week ago now) with the oldest 3 of our 5 children and some friends at a Wisconsin Dells water park, we came home to pick up the youngest 2 children (ages 4 and 3). The 4 year old had spent the night before with a stomach virus and fever, and I could feel the impending doom that would spread to the rest of us. That was my first failure. I did feel very sorry for my little guy, because I could tell that he was miserable. However, just as present (or maybe even more so) in the forefront of my mind was trepidation and frustration with the fact that the rest of us were all doomed to get sick too. That being said, I must qualify this by saying that I have an intense hatred for vomiting. I have often said, "I would rather give birth than vomit," and that is really saying something, considering that my shortest and easiest labors were over 27 hours of straight back-to-back contractions. I cannot say emphatically enough how I dread stomach viruses. My selfishness caused me to feel more sorry for myself than I felt for my boy.
What has followed for that past week has been five of the seven of us coming down with some sort of illness. Of those of us who've been sick, some of us have had stomach symptoms, and all of us have had fevers, sore throats, and chest/nasal congestion. We have the flu.
Fast Forward to Valentine's Day Issues
The Ghost of Valentine's Days Past
I have always been a romantic - passionate, spirited, and a lover of gifts and gift-giving. Therefore, my expectations have always been high when it comes to obligatory gift holidays. My former husband (Brett) was a bad gift buyer. I only say that, because he would admit it himself. I recall that the first Valentine's Day we spent together (dating) he gave me a Vick's humidifier. I was almost 17, still under my parents' roof, and they had a humidifier should I be in need of one. He ecstatically pointed out that it was glow-in-the-dark. I was less enthusiastic, but I played it cool, not wanting to seem ungrateful. Fast forward to our first married Valentine's Day. I had spent weeks planning the special day. I had purchased him a gift and a card and had a special meal planned, and he had purchased me this ____. That's right. Nothing. You know he heard about it. I was almost 20, and possibly still a little bitter about the humidifier. I was mad. I didn't mind seeming ungrateful, because I was his wife now. He knew he was in the dog house, which prompted an emergency trip to Hallmark for one of the last cards on the shelf (which was not even specified for a wife) and a movie. What movie you may rightly wonder? Air... Force... One. I had never seen, neither did I wish to own, Air Force One. When I informed him of this, he was incredulous, stating that he had always wanted to see it. So what he had basically done was buy me (under duress) a gift for himself. The few years after that, he made annual trips with his brother to buy "the wives" gifts for Valentine's Day. This was done on Valentine's Day evening and resulted in my sister-in-law and I receiving identical glass plaques or something of the sort whenever they came home Valentine's Day night. This is just a very short list of his gift-giving misses throughout the 7 years we were married. [Aside: Please understand at this point that I am not trying to be negative toward Brett. I am not angry for the "bad gifts" (if there is such a thing), and it's very important to point out that these things had nothing to do with why our marriage ended.] I look back on these things as truly funny moments of our marriage. We were both so young and so immature - it's easy for me to see today all the goofy things that we did and to laugh at what I thought was so important at the time (and the fact that I thought those things were so important). I willingly admit that my expectations of the day were so high that they could not possibly have been met. Had Brett secretly built a helipad in our back yard and flown in (with his own secretly earned pilot's license), had two dozen roses awaiting me in the cockpit, taken me to Europe (having had unlimited gas installed in our magical helicopter) and landed us at the top of the Eiffel Tower where a candlelit dinner complete with all of my favorite foods was awaiting our arrival to be served by a French waiter while a violinist serenaded us with all of my favorite music, I would secretly have wondered why he had not planned an entire orchestra and packed me a personalized wind breaker with my name in hearts on the back (after all, it's chilly in Paris in February).
These past Valentine's Days taught me a few things when it comes to a "romantic" personality. 1) If either party forgets or neglects to "find time" to purchase a thoughtful gift for the other, it is a "lose/lose" situation for both parties. 2) The only possible good excuse for not purchasing a thoughtful gift on Valentine's Day for your beloved is extended hospitalization and/or death. 3) No matter how hard a person tries not to have expectations on Valentine's Day, it is truly impossible. 4) If even one word is uttered by either party to the effect of expecting/hoping/wanting a gift, the potential gift giver has missed their opportunity for the gift to be perceived as voluntary, treasured, and/or thoughtful. It has now become obligatory and tainted. 5) The only cards left to purchase Valentine's Day evening might possibly include the words, "Happy Valentine's Day, Grandma!"
The Ghost of Valentine's Day Present
About two weeks ago when I was at Walmart getting groceries, I bought a few things for them and a card for Mark. I already had in mind what I would buy for him as a gift, but I knew that would need to be purchased on line or at a specialty store, and I did that later. I bought the kids a few Valentine trinkets (as they don't have class parties like so many other kids do).
This past weekend, Mark and Austin (our teenager) went to the International Motorcycle Show in Chicago. They had a great time with some other guys and with each other. However, being a "home body", Mark was anxious to get back home to me and the kids as the day wore on, and he tried to hurry home to help me with all of the sick kids, which I appreciated so much. Violet had developed an ear infection on top of her other illness, and she was hysterically screaming in pain for almost the entire afternoon and evening of that Saturday. Mark helped so much with her - taking up with her where I left off - holding and rocking and lying in bed with her... trying anything he could to help soothe her pain. In addition to this, he prepared his Sunday School lesson (as he teaches 5th and 6th graders at our church). As we sat at the table for supper (Violet still wailing on my lap), Sadie looked at me and said, "Mom, I bet you're glad Mark and you are going on vacation in August!" I laughed at that, because I realized how utterly frustrated and exhausted we must both seem and how sweet it was that she wanted to remind us of an upcoming chance for relaxation - however remote it seemed to us at the time.
Mark took Austin to a men's study for guys at our church last night, and they barely arrived home in time for him to shower and get ready for work. As I put his card in his lunch box, he hurriedly (and worriedly) looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, I just haven't had time to buy you anything for Valentine's Day. I feel so bad." He rushed off to work, and said he might try to do an e-card or something like that. I said, "Well, I bought your gift on line, so you could always do it that way." That was the last of our conversation, but I really tried to determine within myself that whatever he did or didn't do for me would be fine. I have become much less needy when it comes to gifts in the past few years, preferring practical gifts mostly, because the lifestyles of married people with five children have necessitated it. He is often gone on my birthday and sometimes on our anniversary too because of his work schedule, and I have often told him that a hand-written note of encouragement is plenty good enough for me these days.
He arrived home this morning letting me sleep in, and printed off cards for me and the kids. When I awoke, he was handing the kids their cards along with a package of Starburst for each that he must have obtained at a gas station on the way home from work. I was disappointed that he had not hand-written anything or given me any sentiment. He commented, "Well, it would have been nice to have dinner out together tonight, but Austin has practice, and everyone is sick." I truly tried to hide my disappointment, but he detected it and pressed me for a reason. I (more willingly than I should have) expressed my frustration at our situation and lamented that, despite my attempt at low expectations, I was disappointed.
The advent of the Internet, especially Facebook, makes it so much easier to be discontented with my circumstances. I opened it this morning to no less than 2 dozen posts about what people have received for Valentine's Day or about Valentine's Day plans, and if I had something to brag about, I would be the first one to post it too. That's the way it works, right? Facebook is the "way to go, me and my fabulous lifestyle" outlet. [Aside: In fact, Facebook has made me a little afraid to start working out regularly, and I'll tell you why: I have friends who seem to have disappeared and been replaced by Billy Blanks. One day, they're posting about a regular, everyday stuff, and the next day, they're seeing a personal trainer, doing P90X 8 days a week, and doing triathlons 12 times a year. I totally admire these people (in a slightly annoyed kind of way), but I am loath to read their status updates. I know they are proud of their lifestyles, and I am proud for them, and I am the first to post when I've dropped 5 pounds, but I fear that were I to start spending an hour a day exercising, I might get carried away and become Denise Austen too. I wouldn't be able to go to dinner with a friend without telling them how fattening their dinner selection is. I once posted to my Facebook status something to the effect of, "I have way too many friends who post their workouts. I wish that just once someone would post, 'I ate half a pizza and a quart of ice cream by myself and spent the rest of the day on the couch watching TV,' that way I could live vicariously through your status and actually enjoy it." I think I accidentally hurt some feelings with that post, but I just think that human nature is funny. That being said, if you are one of my friends who works out and talks about it a lot on Facebook, I love and admire you and what you do, and I'm just jealous of your ambition. Let's go out for a cheeseburger and some tofu sometime soon.]
You may have noticed above the things I wrote in bold face type. Those are the things I forgot in my selfishness this morning. My hubby works hard. He loves being home with his family. He spends quality time teaching our kids to love me and love God. He serves others at our church. He snuggles his kids. He treats me so well. (Oh, and he's taking me on a vacation to Hawaii that he's spent a couple years of overtime money saving up for.) He IS my blessed Valentine. He already is. He doesn't have to buy me a gift. He is my gift. In case you didn't notice, I bought his card when I was already out at the store. I did my other shopping on line. I didn't go out of my way to make his day special either. As a married couple, we just can't sometimes. Life gets in the way of love sometimes. You'd think I would know that by now. Then again, love is only that... a compilation of life's craziness and the choice to love each other despite its imperfections. My shortcomings are many, and I hope it's clear that the title of today's blog is referring to my own Valentine's day failures and no one else's.
The Ghost of Valentine's Days Future
It's my sincere hope that in the future I remember the concept of this blog. I don't need gifts. I need to recognize the gifts that are all around me.
I once asked myself, in an effort to determine exactly what my expectations are, what would really make me happy on Valentine's Day (or any other gift holiday). The truth is, I couldn't define it at all. It couldn't be flowers or candy, because they are perishable and impractical. It couldn't be a vacuum cleaner or a food processor, because those things are "job-related". It couldn't be just dinner out, because I wouldn't have something to remember from the day. Bottom line? NOTHING met my criteria or expectations. My heart wants something that doesn't exist in the physical realm. True LOVE - untained, strong, passionate, lasting, and... supernatural. Putting expectations on a person will always end in disappointment, because we were created with an eternal longing that cannot (and was never meant to) be met in the temporal realm. God created me empty in order that I seek Him for true fulfillment.
A few things that I saw on Facebook today that were a blessing:
