Please Believe Me, I Know Not What I Do, Please Believe Me, I Can't Stop Loving You

Dear Barney,

 

This week marks nine years of knowing each other, and this Sunday will mark nine years since our first date.  From this point forward, we will be closing in on our first decade of life together, which is pretty hard to wrap my head around.  We've managed to do pretty well these first nine years, huh?  Three beautiful children, two stable careers, a home we love, and a love for one another that only continues to grow.

 

I have been fighting anxiety for the past couple of weeks, and much of it stems from a fear of losing all of the wonderful blessings that God has gifted to me, though I know I am undeserving.  My heart constricts at the thought of losing you, and last night, I had to quell panic at the idea of learning how to sleep in my bed without you.  Of course, that panic came because it was 1:00am and I was still awake because I cannot sleep without you and you were up playing XBox with Mitchell. Classic Barney.  But, I love that you are still a kid at heart and not some stolid 35 year old man who lost his boyish pleasures about the same time he lost his full head of hair.  I might have gotten a little less sleep than I would have liked for one night, but I am gaining soooooo soooo much more than that in getting to be your wife.

 

This week, my gestures to you have been multiple nights in the den down the street with the guys enjoying the ball games, stogies, beers, and fellowship of other men while I hold down the fort at home.  It's been a long time since you had the opportunity to enjoy the company of a bunch of guys that you love hanging out with, and I am glad that you are finding that here in our new home.  I know that we are a lot of things for one another, but cigar buddies is not one of those things. 

 

I also want you to know that I have loved you so much these past two months in watching you serve as our son's soccer coach.  Wrangling three and four year olds is the opposite of easy, I know.  But, you do it with grace and style, and I know that George absolutely loves that you are the team's coach.  I am not saying it won't be nice for the season to end this week, but that doesn't change how much I've enjoyed seeing you in that new role.

 

As I write this, I want to go wake you up, just so I can see your smile and tell you I love you one more time today, but I will save that for tomorrow.  For now, just know that you are truly my one and only.

 

I love you.

 

--me.

Things I Love About You

Dear Barney,

One of my all-time favorite scenes from a movie is from When Harry Met Sally at the end when Harry tells Sally all of the little idiosyncrasies about her that made him fall in love with her. I've always thought that would be so romantic and had even been so helpful as to pick out a few things you might list about me. Then, when one of the characters in the book I finished tonight did the same thing, I realized that I had it backwards and should be doing the same for you. Of course, I've kind of done it before, but there's more to add, like this: I love how when you get interested in something, you become totally passionate about it. From the trees to plant in our yard to the survival man gear you keep buying and stashing around the house to your love for buying books because you know I love them, your passion inspires me. Please never lose it.

I love you.

--me.

Not So Deliberately Lately

Dear Barney,

It's been almost a month since I last wrote you, and it so clearly shows in our marriage. I'm full of excuses, from the somewhat good--three kids! Starting my EdD! Soccer, supper club, small group, birthday parties! to the rather lame--Words with Friends! My books! Fall TV!

I feel myself falling back into the pattern of getting easily snappish with you, carelessly allowing a harmful tone to creep into our conversation, even when my intention or actual feelings are much calmer than what I voice.

Today I had the privilege of helping my sister-in-law to register, and while fun, it was a tiring day on the heels of an extremely exhausting weekend. When I got home, I was worn out, overwhelmed at what all I needed to accomplish still today, and was feeling physically sick because I was engorged. So, when you came and opened the car door for me, I greeted you with a diatribe on the state of our car's tires rather than with the sweet welcome you had probably envisioned. By the time I made it in the door, I realized how inappropriate my attitude and way of handling that conversation had been.

But the worst part was that I knew how empty the apology would sound since I seem to be making the same apology and promise to be more careful with my attitude at least once every three or four days now.

This time, I not only mean it but plan to hold myself accountable by deliberately writing to you and assessing things at least once a week and preferably twice a week. When I'm putting honesty to paper about our marriage and myself as a wife, I find I'm a much better wife. So my goal for the rest of 2011 is to do just that.

I love you always, and I'm sorry, again.

--me.

My Collection So Far

Dear Barney,

It was so nice of you to start a game for me that combines two of my favorite things: Easter egg hunts and Halloween. Unfortunately hunting for itty bitty fake snakes all over my house isn't my idea of the best time. So far, I've found them in these locales:

--outside the front door
--outside the back door
--in my chair
--on the toilet seat
--in my sink
--in my bed
--on my pump bag
--in my daughter's mouth

I'm hiding them where I hope you won't find them. Sorry sweetie :)

Fantasy Football

Dear Barney,

I have to admit that my topic tonight is less than lovey dovey. It's football season again which means it's fantasy season again. I could write a whole book about the role that this game has played in our marriage, starting with my realization somewhere in the first six months of our marriage that I would either have to embrace fantasy football or resign myself to a miserable fall and winter every year. So I embraced it. It might have been my first major deliberate act of love for you. But, we are now seven years and three kids later. It's much harder to embrace now. The fun has mostly been replaced with frustration. Luckily I barely care about my games because I could not possibly keep track like I used to Sunday is my hardest work day each week, and now that football has started I'm also responsible for 90% of the childcare all day (except during Sunday School of course), and then in some weeks I'm also preparing for Monday night supper club. Now we are also throwing Sunday night small group into the mix.

I get that you love fantasy and that it's been part of your life for over a decade. I'm trying to allow you to indulge. Honestly. Last Sunday wasn't my best effort as my meltdown right before kickoff revealed. You so clearly had no idea why I was so mad that you quit helping me mop up the exploded yogurt from all surfaces of the kitchen to go sit at your computer for your eighth and last line up check. You seriously had no inkling as to why I was upset. My explanations were of no help. So, it's clear, I just have to try to deliberately embrace it again this year. I promise to try . . . Because I really do love you. But that doesn't mean I love fantasy football. I don't, even when I try to pretend otherwise.

Yours,
Me

The Aftermath of the Aftermath

Dear Barney,

I read so much and so often that too little of what I read really sticks with me. But, I remember a passage from The Kite Runner vividly. The narrator's mother had died in childbirth, I believe. Either that, or when he was too little to remember her. As a teen, he meets a man who knew his mother well, and he tells the boy that his mother had a premonition that her life was nearing it's end. She said that she had been gifted with this perfect happiness that could not be maintained in this imperfect and fallen world.

I guess such is my nature that I must have something to worry about. So I worry these days about losing you or the children. Even your recent day trip to a college football game left me awash in pointless worry. I find myself reaching out to touch you more often than normal these days just to assure myself that you are still here and with me. I've always known that the kind of love we share is a rare gift, but I find myself guarding it more and appreciating it more than ever. I feel like a love-struck teen again even as the mirror assures me this is not so.

My gifts to you these days have been nights off, fantasy football, and lots of home-cooked meals. What I want in return is nothing more than your constant love and presence in my life. And, maybe to get to sleep in :)

I love you,
Me.

Let Me Count the Ways

Dear Barney,

 

When I went to sleep last night on your pillow for the third night this week instead of waking you up to ask you to trade me my pillow back, did you know that I was saying I love you?  When I researched recipes to come up with two different unique and home-cooked dinners for you this week, did you know that I was saying I love you?  When I did all of the dishes, emptied the dishwasher yet again, and did the laundry, did you know that I was saying I love you?  When I went outside to look at the snake that you killed rather than staying as far away from it as possible like I wanted to, did you know that I was saying I love you?  When I gave the kids a bath while feeding the baby and got all three into bed while you were working downstairs, did you know that I was saying I love you?  When I watched a movie with you rather than finishing my grading or reading my book, did you know that I was saying I love you?  When I over-react, when I acquiesce with less-than-a-willing heart, when I allow a poor attitude or tired spirit to creep into my engagements with you, please know that my actions and words are not an indication of a lack of love or a lessening of my intense feelings for you.  I know that it is unfair of me to want you to only listen to the messages that I send out through my positive actions rather than my negative ones, but please know that no matter how cranky I might get, no matter how frustrated, angry, upset, or even indifferent I might seem, you are my best friend and my great love.  I wish I could exterminate completely the negative behaviors that might dampen the messages that I try to communicate with my positive and good actions.  Since that will probably never happen, I just wanted to let you know that my heart is in the right place, that is, in your safekeeping.

 

I love you,

me.