How's Married Life?

Everyone's favorite question for me right now is: "So, how's married life?" And I appreciate their genuine interest in my life. Really, I do.

And believe me, I want with all my heart to gush and tell them that it's amazing. That it's fairytale-esque. That my husband and I eat dinner together and talk about our days. That while he does the dishes, I hover in the kitchen regaling him with stories from work or class. That we settle onto the couch and I do homework on the laptop while we watch some tv or just talk. And truthfully, I believe, this is what people want to hear.

But that's simply not how it is. When I left for work this morning, I kissed my husband and told him I would see him on Monday. (It's Friday). I spend the majority of my nights alone, while he works forty-five minutes away. We go for days at a time without seeing each other at all-- because I leave for work or internship or school before he gets back home around 7am. And he leaves again for work by 5pm and most of the time I'm not home again yet. Less than two months of marriage so far and it's far from what people imagine.

I don't mean to complain, but I get tired to telling people how wonderful it is because frankly, if I had to sum up marriage in one word, it would be "lonely."

This is the part where you tell me that I shouldn't bend the truth; that I should open up and tell people the reality of what marriage is like for me, at least. And sometimes, when I think they can stomach it, I do. But 99% of the time I get one of three responses:
1. Well, you should just be glad he has a job at all. (And I am. WE are. So very blessed).
2. It will get better. (Yes, I'm sure it will but right now, it is difficult).
3. One day, you'll wish he was working opposite schedules because you'll always be on each other's nerves OR "absence makes the heart grow fonder" (Thanks, but NO).



And so, I simply leave it at: "I love being married." This is truth. I do. It is hard-- harder than I could have ever imagined. But for the few days that we have spent together, it is remarkable. And if our schedules are like this until we retire, I still wouldn't trade it for the world.

Quirkiness

I was thinking the other day about my quirks...the little things that make me, well, me. Here are some of them.

1. If I wake up during the night or early in the morning and am awake for more than 2 minutes, I have to go brush my teeth. Absolutely must.

2. I am obsessed with Law and Order:SVU and want to be Olivia Benson when I grow up.

3. The money in my wallet has to be in descending order, all bills facing up.

4. I don't like to sit with my legs crossed because I feel (and probably look) awkward.

5. I have to sleep with the window open because Central Air and Heat feels suffocating to me.

6. I eat my pizza crust side first.

7. Exanding on #7, when I eat a meal, I eat all of each food before moving to the next. And subconciously, I choose which taste I want in my mouth when I finish my meal.

8. I hate the feel of chiffon. It makes my skin crawl.

9. I am as obsessed with Jodi Picoult (the author) as I am with SVU. The only difference is, I only get my Jodi Picoult "fix" once a year when her new book comes out. I usually finish it within a day of getting it.

10. I grind my teeth when I'm stressed, anxious, nervous or tense (i.e. all the time).

11. I don't like to talk on the telephone. I'd prefer to text, email or chat in person.

12. I am very punctual. I would rather leave and get somewhere thirty minutes early than be two minutes late.

13. I don't sleep with my engagement ring on. I started taking it off before bed at first because I was afraid it would fall off while I was asleep. Now, it's habit/bedtime ritual.

14. I don't like the number 5. I don't know why. I just don't.

15. I cannot stand to use the "Scan" button on radios. It's confusing and overstimulating.

BIG NEWS!

So, I figured it was appropriate to write a quick post about the fact that Matt proposed to me this past Saturday.

I knew it was coming sometime...I had no idea it would be then, though!

We had gotten back from Raleigh, after a long day, and it was (for all intents and purposes) sleeting in Greensboro. It was also a) freezing cold, b) nearly midnight and c) did I mention it was cold? Well, it was.

Matt asked me if I wanted to go downtown (remember, people, it's quarter 'til twelve) and see the big 50-foot Christmas tree in Center City Park.

"Nah, it's too cold."
"C'mon. It'll be fun. I want to go see it."

"It'll be there for a few more weeks."
"I want to go tonight."

"We've already driven by it twice."
"Yeah, but I want to get out and go up to it."

"No thank you."

"Please?"

"Fine." (I'm exasberated. And by this point most people are wondering why I was so dense as to not have a clue...)

We get there and he parks the car. I tell him I'll wait in the car. (Man, I'm a terrible girlfriend!) He insists and finally coaxes me out into the wet, freezing mess. We make it to the tree, with me shivering and whining most of the way.

We walk around the tree, marveling at the beauty of this magnificent tree.

After we have circled the entire tree and discussed the possibility of climbing it, I look at him, about to ask if I can go. He takes a step away from me, looks at the ground, and gets down on one knee.

I can't breathe.

My heart is racing.

"Lindsay Caroline Widenhouse, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

I just continue to gasp for air. (Although I'd like to say that I responded eloquently in the affirmative).

Eventually, I say yes, and he slides the ring onto my finger.

WE DID IT!!!!

Allow me a moment.

Matt and I trained for and ran an 8k. It was my first 8k, and his too. It was also our first race together. We drove up to the Outer Banks on Friday and ran the race on Saturday morning. The course was an out-and-back course (which, if you're a runner, you probably abhorr), and that means you run out half the distance, and then turn around and run back. It's discouraging because you a) know how long you have left to go; and b) because the faster runners are passing you on their way back. Oh well. All in all, it was an amazing and really fulfilling experience. It definitely won't be our last race.

Here we are before the race.

When we got within sight of the finish line, I looked at Matt and said: "Race ya!" Of course, he won the sprint to the end, but I held my own!

Haha

Today, a RESTRICTED number called my cell phone. I answered. The following ensued:

"Hello?"
"Hi. Can I speak with Roosevelt?"
"Teddy or Franklin?"
"Huh?"
"Nevermind. No one here goes by that name."
"uh...okay. I must have the wrong number."

Sigh. Okay, so that's not really how the conversation went. I left out the funny quip about which Roosevelt they wanted to speak to. But it did take all of my self-control not to say that.

The Longing Conundrum

Do you ever long for something? I feel like one word sums up how I've been feeling for a few months now: longing. But I'm perplexed because I don't know quite what I'm longing for.

I'm at once longing for the future and the past. I'm longing for the comfortable and the uncomfortable; for the old and the new. And sometimes, I'm longing for the in-between spaces.

I've always, no matter what stage I am at in life or what I'm going through, able to relate to Sara Groves' song "Painting Pictures of Egypt"

I've been painting pictures of Egypt
And leaving out what it lacks
The future feels so hard
And I want to go back

But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned...

At one point in the song, she sings: "I am caught between the promised and the things I know." I am altogether frustrated and exhausted and excited and confused as I try to figure out what this stage is exactly in my life. I feel like I am in the in-between, where I have out grown many things but am not quite to the next phase in my life yet.

I don't want to leave too quickly, nor do I want to hestitate too long. But I don't know what exactly I'm supposed to be doing, or where I'm supposed to be headed.

I don't know much of anything right now, it seems.

Team Day at Chic-Fil-A

It was Team Day at Chic-Fil-A, and if you wore a shirt with your favorite team on it, you got a free sandwich.

Tarheels + Chic-Fil-A =Good day!

Neither one of us likes pickles, though, as exhibited in the third picture. :)

Ummm...???

My professor wants me to write a lesson plan. This would be fine if:

-I knew the components of a lesson plan
-I had ever seen a lesson plan
-I even planned to be a teacher in the future


Sigh. I want to be a social worker, people. You know, I want to talk to kids about their problems. I'm not going to give lectures or do state-mandated curriculum lessons with them.


I'll figure it out. I always do.