Following our beautiful wedding on a crisp November day in 2008, we went to Rome for our honeymoon. Our timeline for dating, engagement and marriage was fairly brief, compared to some, so we hadn't had a real fight yet. Brandon remembers our first year of marriage being very difficult with lots of 'discussions', as he likes to call them. Either he is the groom of gloom or I remember it with rose-colored glasses. In any case, we agree that our first disagreement took place on the first day of our honeymoon.
We were getting ready to go see the sights in beautiful Italy, and I had a beautiful trousseau from which to select my outfit. It included a lovely bag (which a classy-looking lady at the Coliseum complimented me on) and a really great pair of boots. Naturally, I wanted to look fabulous for our first day in Rome, so I chose a denim skirt, a sweater and scarf and my boots. Brandon, sporting his jeans and long-sleeved Under Armor t-shirt (I'm sure) asks me, "Are you going to wear those?" indicating my tall boots with relatively tall heels. I gave him a look, daring him to challenge me on this and simply said "Yes." End of conversation.
We spent a wonderful morning drinking cappuccino and then exploring Vatican City. For those of you who don't know, Brandon is a history buff, and he soaks in every detail of every museum. He's the guy who gets the tour headphones and just gets lost in it all. We are very different. So, we get to St. Peter's Basilica and he is walking around with his headphones, looking at dead popes while I am very discreetly limping behind him. My feet hurt and I'm ready to go back to the hotel, but I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. We go out to get a slice of pizza and SIT in St. Peter's square by the fountain. I don't want to finish eating ever, because that would mean I have to get up and walk some more. He now knows that I'm hurting a little, but being the sweet new husband he is, he doesn't say a word.
Next, we make our way to the Sistine Chapel. It's not just a place that you walk into but instead at the END of a series of rooms in the Vatican Museum that seems to go on for miles. By the time we get to the Sistine Chapel, my boots are in my very cute purse and I'm in my socks. I just pretend it's out of reverence. Then, it's time to go back outside and I have to painfully wiggle my aching feet back into the dreadful boots without crying. It's dusk and we have spent the entire day at Vatican City, so it's time to go back to the hotel. We get to the subway and we walk for at least 45 minutes, only to discover that we've been going in the wrong direction. I casually suggest "Why don't we just get a taxi?" Brandon laughs. Wrong move. We don't get a taxi. We don't talk for quite a while. Then, my feet eventually recuperate and we are over it. Brandon loves to tell this story, so there it is...you all know it. Now, it will not be necessary for him to ever tell it again.
Our next 'fight' happened when we got home from Rome. This is truly the epitome of newlywed moments for those who didn't live together first. It's our first time to share a home and we get home at night, jet-lagged. Brandon fully intends to return to work the next morning. He listens to music as he goes to sleep. He doesn't eat breakfast (which nullified the wonderful breakfast I cooked for him). I can adjust to all of that, and I know there will be more to come. Then, something happens that I don't know how to handle. He goes to work, so I go to my volunteer shift and return home to find that he has done all of his laundry. Only his. I was crushed. It isn't because I wanted to do his laundry or even because I wanted him to do mine. It was because we were now a married couple so shouldn't we combine our laundry like we had just combined our lives? He didn't know how to react to my reaction and probably thought he had just married a crazy person. In the end, it worked out. :) He was trying to be thoughtful and get his done (without attempting to do mine and ruining my trousseau) so I could do mine.
Along with the things that we've both adjusted to over the past five years, there have been some wonderful discoveries, too. One is that he actually enjoys doing laundry, specifically folding it. He finds it therapeutic. It's also a great excuse for him to watch sports all day long while he 'does laundry'. He also likes doing the dishes and keeping the kitchen clean. Ok, that's a lie. He can't stand for there to be dishes in the sink or clutter on the counter. So, if I just leave it, he does it. Dream husband. Sorry, girls, he's taken!
There is so much more I could get into on the subject of love and marriage, and I'm sure I will. This is one of my favorite specialties in counseling. The difficulty in attempting to just be 'wife' in my marriage and not 'counselor', 'mommy' or any of the other hats I wear, is a task in itself. Then, there are the times Brandon accuses me of using my 'counseling voodoo' on him (just because he knows I'm right). For now, I just think it's important in marriage, as in any area of life, to remember where we've been, what we've overcome because it helps us to know where we are and where we are going. Bobby Sanders, our interim pastor at church, said it well on Mother's Day: Taking time to reflect and evaluate how you're doing is a gift to your spouse.
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