On a Role (Or Not).

We've all seen them.  The funny internet pictures (the cool kids tell me these are called "memes") poking fun at dads seeking recognition for tasks moms do everyday.  They're funny, right?  I had two hands raised way up on that one.  Why do dads want so much recognition for things that are just part of our everyday?  Why should I have to offer praise when he loads the dishwasher or does a load of laundry?  Believe me when I say I was totally at the front of the line for finding these memes so true and so funny and relevant to my life.  Then, one day everything came into perspective.

A couple weeks ago, my husband had a small surgical procedure done, and while it was very minor it did leave him with a lifting and activity restriction for sometime.  I am convinced that our lawn realized this and took every ounce of its available energy to grow 9 feet overnight.  Saying it was looking shabby was an understatement.  Thank God we are not in a homeowner's association (maybe we are, frankly we have no idea).  The inevitable was about to happen.  I needed to mow our lawn.

No big deal right?  Wrong. I have never mowed a lawn in my 25 years of life.  Growing up on a dusty ranch with extreme allergies, I was not able to do this as a kid.  Plus also my parents had a ride-on mower and we have my grandma's push mower.  But I knew I could do it and that it was a task that needed done, so I set out one afternoon to do so.  After having to ask my husband how to start it, I had to come inside and have him start it for me.  About 1/4 of the way through the front yard, he also came out to tell me there is a handle for "self-propel"--this made my day so much easier.  I finished the front lawn and ran out of gas.  Apparently I "should have filled it before I began."  Who knew?! The man who mows the lawn all the time, that's who.

Since I am not a person of half-jobs, I set out the next day while both children were miraculously napping and my husband had returned to work to finish our backyard.  After fighting with the gas can for 20 minutes to get the gas to actually pour out (there has to be a better design for fume control, for real) I got the mower refueled and ready.  I drug that SOB outside and was ready to attempt to start it.  I pulled...and pulled...and cussed...and pulled...and paused and looked up and said "JOAN how were you able to get this thing started at 80?! I can't do it now, and I go to BodyPump!!"  It started right up. My grandma was looking down in that moment.  So I began mowing our backyard.  Can I just say that we have a HUGE yard?  Our first post-military life purchase will absolutely be a riding lawn mower. Zero turn radius preferred.

As I was pushing that SOB around and cutting the grass, I kept thinking how I couldn't wait to show my husband that I did it all by myself! I had mowed the lawn and it looked (almost) as good as when he mows! Then it dawned on me; I was doing the same thing I had rolled my eyes at him for a few times in the past. I was wanting him to praise me for a task that was part of his norm. I wanted praise for doing something our of my "role" as a housewife and mother. I wanted him to be proud of and happy and thankful that I did something that was in his "role" as a husband. In that moment more than ever I realized that there are no roles in a successful marriage relationship. If we both would give a little praise and grace for the other helping us, we would both thrive further in our relationship. Why should I expect him to not roll his eyes at me or criticize me for my poor (ok, pretty shitty really) mowing job just because I did it? The truth is, I should not have expected praise and thanks for doing a task that is part of living in our own (sort of own, we rent so whatever that is) place. I think it's true for all walks of life, but especially so for military families when I say that it is not only beneficial but in many cases crucial that we each understand the roles of the other. If (by if, I mean when) deployment rolls around for us, I will now know that I have the ability to mow our lawn. It sounds silly, really. But any skill known is beneficial during times of shifting and change. Plus, I can do it if I want to have a sporadic yard party so win-win. The point is this; I have learned that while I may be the main dish washer and laundress and he the lawn mower and wall hanging person it is ok to thank each other when one does something that may normally be on the other's "to-do" list. Even further, it is ok to see that when someone does something that may be in your norm, it is an act of love. Doing the laundry while I was recovering from womb emancipation (child birth) was an act of love from him, even if my clothes were not folded just how I would do it. Mowing the lawn while he was recovering from surgerywas an act of love from me, even if our lawn looked like our son mowed it. There are no roles, there is balance.

Dear Childhood Best Friend, Thank You.

The day we met, saying we were wild, hyper little girls would be a complete understatement. In fact, before I go further, I want to apologize to our sweet mothers who somehow kept their sanity that day!  Nerves were running high and we were both excited and nervous for our very first 4-H Fashion Review judging.  For those unfamiliar with this wonderful program (seriously, enroll your kids it is so beneficial!) the fashion review is the culminating event for the girls and boys who chose to sew an item,. outfit, or do some "smart shopping" to chose an appropriate outfit for an event, stick to a budget, etc.  I knew that I would sit in front of a judge and relive all the blood, sweat, and tears that went into creating my very first sewn garment; a lime green floral printed shorts and tank top set.  I was ready!  I loved to talk (ask my mom) and I was pretty proud of the set I had completed all by myself (with the help, exasperation, and pleading of my sweet mother, she's a saint, folks). 

What I didn't know was that when I walked through the doors of the Newcastle High School band room where we all waited to have our items judged, I would see a little girl with the curliest hair sitting on the floor playing with her horse toys, with a mother whose look spoke the same relief and exasperation as my own mother's that day.  I am not sure who was more drawn to each other, us or our moms who probably needed a good laugh and talk with someone who had been in the same boat. I mean, teaching a wild, playful, short-attention-spanned eight year old girl to sew has to be a trying task to say the least!  I didn't know it that day, but when I asked my mom if I could please go play with her we would be beginning what would be one of the best, most heartfelt friendships I have known.  Thanks, 4-H!



Let me just say, everyone needs that childhood best friend to go on adventures with.  She taught me more than she knows.  Well, she'll know now!  As a mother, there are so many people whose life lessons I have looked to when raising my own children--and those I learned from my great friend are right up there.  To name a few; it's ok to laugh at yourself--especially if you just fell off a big round hay bale into a snow drift.  Who cares what you look like, it was funny--LAUGH!, or if you want to dance, just go do it, if you don't have a partner it doesn't matter make it as you go, what is popular is not always what is right--don't confuse the two, if you want something (like a set of dual walkie-talkies to be super spies) save up your money, and most of all, be you and be silly; there is enough seriousness in this life.  If you can be silly and laugh about something, anything (like dressing up a sheep to walk about in a winter wool outfit in 100 degree weather or getting run over by pigs at the Wyoming State Fair, there is always something to laugh and be silly about).

Fast forward to the present.  We have very different lives, but one thing that hasn't changed is our relationship.  Thank you, friend.  Thank you for your unconditional love. Thank you for the adventures--I mean, we have been to Europe together! Thank you for never giving up on us.  Thank you for your sweet, fun, fierce love for my babies.  I may never have had a biological sister, but my kiddos have an aunt in you and they love you like one.  Thank you for the memories.  Thank you for our wild childhood days.  Thank you for our not so wild adult days.  On behalf of the wildlings, thank you for the tickles and snuggles and silliness. Thanks for being you.  I could write for days, but truthfully so many of my memories with you are those "had to be there" moments--you're thinking of them, I know you are!  You are the only person I would push in an 80s Nissan pickup in a KFC parking lot to pop a clutch to get moving.  Like, I wouldn't even do that for my husband, only person. So, in nutshell, thank you for being you; I don't know where I would be had our paths not crossed that fateful August morning.