Quick Thoughts on a Friday

Just some shit that’s been making the rounds in my head recently:

My husband’s been gone for a few days and I genuinely miss him. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?

On a related note, I had two mornings alone with the kids and didn’t even make a big deal about it! Look at me! All grown up!

I’ve been driving a friend to sub jobs on the peninsula when she works at this one school that’s on my way. It’s fun to have someone to talk to in the morning and after work. I also like helping out my friends.

My daughter will be six in three weeks. She’s has grown up so much this year and is a lot of fun right now. I’m looking forward to this summer.

My son is a handful but so incredibly sweet. He frequently stops me in mid sentence to announce that I’m his best friend. When I tell him I love him he says, “I wuv you to mommy.” His favorite form of showing affection right now is the “hi-ya hug,” where gets a running start, jumps at me yelling (a-la-karate/kung fu) HI YA and wraps me in a giant bear hug.

I recently finished No-Drama Discipline (by The Whole-Brain Child folks)–on Ana’s recommendation–and it’s hands down the best parenting book I’ve ever read. I wish I had saved myself the time and energy of reading any other parenting book ever and had just read this one. So, so good. I hope to write more about it soon.

While my husband was gone I let my daughter sleep in my bed. Last night I decided to just go to bed with her and was asleep by 9:30pm. I didn’t sleep straight through the night, but it was still amazeballs.

My two-year-old is a shit sleeper. It’s starting to wear on me. (And yet at my mom’s house he sleeps straight through the night and doesn’t wake up until 8:45am. What the actual fuck!?)

On a related note, I wish my son’s room didn’t share a wall with the kitchen. Worst. Idea. Ever.

I’m so done trying to sell and buy shit on Craigslist. Unless I’m making $100 or saving $100 it’s just not worth it, and sometimes it’s still not worth it even if I am making or saving a ton of money. From now no I’m just going to donate my stuff to the Young Families Resource Center. At least there I know it’s going to a really good cause, and I can feel good about that.

Having said that, I’d love to find a site where I could get some decent money for my cloth diapers, because I know those resale well in the right circles, and I’m not 100% sure they’d go to good use at the YFRC.

(I wish I were thinking about selling my cloth diapers because we didn’t need them anymore. Sadly that is not the case. My son is 2.5 years old and not the least bit interested in using the potty. After almost six years of cloth diapering I am SO DONE! But I’m trying hard to be patient and not push it.)

My allergies are SO FUCKING BAD RIGHT NOW. They are really messing with my quality of life.

I’m finding it hard to motivate to work out these days, probably because I have so much going on in the afternoons and evenings. Not wanting to work out is uncommon for me. I hope I shake this feeling soon, because I’m about to embark on a half-marathon training regimen.

I sent out the invitations for my daughter’s birthday party so I’m feeling a lot better about that. Now I just need to figure out what to put in the party favors and make sure I don’t need to order that shit ASAP.

For my daughter’s last party we put “No Presents Please” on the invitation. This time I did not write that, because my daughter has been having meltdowns about the presents other kids get at their birthday parties for months now. Presents are basically the whole reason she wants to have a party. And yet, I don’t want all those fucking presents at my house! I’m seriously considering offering to buy some of them off her for cash, and then donating the ones she sells me (or just regifting them at subsequent birthday parties). Somehow I doubt she’ll be okay with that. I will be instituting a one in, one out rule with her presents though, so we won’t just be adding to her stuff. Maybe that will help persuade her to get rid of some of her new stuff, along with the old.

It’s Friday! There are five more weeks of school left! Woot!

Nice Things

Our house is not what one would call nice. It’s old. It’s run down. The quality of pretty much everything inside it is shoddy. The pipes are loud. There is one electrical outlet in each room (and some of them don’t work). The garage is a glorified cement hole. The garage door has to be opened manually and one of its windows is covered by a wooden board.

We do not own one quality piece of furniture. The few pieces that weren’t purchased at IKEA were donated by our parents or bought used. Our computers are old and shitty. Our iPads are hand-me downs. Our car is the most common, boring utilitarian vehicle you can get (silver, four-door Honda Accord) and can only be distinguished by its myriad dents, dings and scrapes.

Everything in our walls was created by me and framed for the lowest possible price.

I don’t own one piece of jewelry priced in the four figures. Our wedding rings cost just under a grand each. I don’t even have an engagement ring. My jewelry collection consists of two necklaces my husband got me as gifts and some cheap pieces my mom has gifted me over the years.

Most of my clothes are purchased at Old Navy, H&M or Uniqlo. Some at the more expensive stores like Gap. I have a few pieces bought on clearance at Anthropologie and two pairs of designer jeans (though I just discovered one has a whole in the ass!) Most of my shoes are (warehouse sale) Toms or were purchased on sale at Macy’s.

The point is, I don’t have Nice Things. I have useful things, comfortable things, maybe even some interesting things, but no Nice Things. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about that, the lack of Nice Things in my life.

I notice it most when I visit someone’s nice house. A house with a stylish exterior, an interesting, antique piece of furniture, a recently remodeled kitchen. I notice it when someone gives me a ride in their nice car, or when they hand me something and my eye catches on their beautiful diamond ring. I don’t have anything of these things, and sometimes it kind of bothers me. I have no idea why.

I’m trying to figure out why it vexes me. I mean, I could have Nice Things, if I wanted to, right? I could make Nice Things a part of my life. Clearly it’s not a priority for me. And yet, sometimes the absence of their nice-ness (exacerbated by the not nice-ness of everything I own) feels so glaring, I can’t see past it.

What do Nice Things means to me? Do they signal something? Success? Style? Something more subtle? I’m honestly not sure. It’s almost as if nice things validate the person who owns them, an assurance that they have arrived, that they are legit. But arrived where? Are legitimately what? It’s all so slippery, so hard to pin down. It dances in my periphery, a glimpse here or there, but never the whole idea still and unwavering, so I can study it.

I do know that when I’m with someone who has nice things than me I feel different. I feel like something separates us, like I’m not quite at their level. Like maybe adults have Nice Things, and evidently I’m not an adult, not really, because I don’t.

I tried to have a conversation about this with my husband but he absolutely could not relate. He’s not interested in material things. He never has been and never will be. Nice Things don’t mean anything to him.

The thing is, I don’t want them to mean anything to me either. I don’t want to be interested in material things. I don’t want to be dazzled by the shiny allure of Nice Things. And yet, I clearly am. The idea has been there, vague and half-formed but a shadowy presence none the less: maybe if I have fewer things, some of them can be Nice Things. Maybe if I spend less money on dumb, unnecessary things, I can finally prioritize Nice Things.

But are Nice Things what I really want to prioritize? Is resurfacing my kitchen really my ultimate dream? When it comes down to it, are Nice Things that important to me? Or do I just like to admire them from afar, allowing jealousy and envy bestow vague and misunderstood significance to them because it’s easy and I’m human and our consumer culture is so convincing. Is my desire to have Nice Things nothing more than me falling for the siren song of consumerism? Are a quality set of cultural ear plugs all I need?

I guess I’m not going to tie this one up in a neat little bow, but I wanted to put it out there, because it’s something I’ve been thinking about here and there. I’d love to figure this out so that the Nice Things in other people’s lives don’t keep me in a comparison loop that siphons my appreciation, gratitude and joy.

I wish I could really believe, once and for all, that Nice Things aren’t necessarily Important Things, and that I have all the really Important Things that I need.

Wow, I really have come far! {Or: An ode to glaciers}

I wrote that post last night and then something compelled me to read some of my original posts on this blog.

I don’t think I’ve ever visited my archives in this space. I’m not sure why, but it just hasn’t happened. It’s been almost a two years since I started writing here, and there is a lot of me on these “pages.” It can be a compelling exercise to go back and revisit the person I once was.

I did that last night, and I was struck by how far I’ve come. Truly. I honestly didn’t remember how bad it was, how far into the hole I was before I started pursuing minimalism and getting rid of stuff. But it was bad. Really bad. This post was especially eye opening. I don’t remember it being that untenable in our new house, but clearly it was.

Change can be so gradual that sometimes we don’t appreciate how incredible it really is. I so appreciate having this space so I can go back and remember, so I can see how far I’ve actually come, and be proud of what I’ve accomplished. Because you know what, I’m not that person who wrote that post about her disgusting house. My house IS NOT like that now. If I had known then, that I would be here now, I would have cried great big tears of relief. I would have been so grateful to know there really was a light at the end of that dark, dirty, overwhelming tunnel.

But I didn’t know, and I tried to change anyway. And that is brave. And I’m proud of myself for this undertaking. I’m proud of myself for following through, for keeping on the path even when it was difficult and I felt I was moving backward, for sticking with it despite what felt like glacially slow progress.

I’m starting to realize that glacially slow is okay. Because glaciers may move slowly, but they cut incredible, dramatic valleys in their wake. They fundamentally and forever alter the landscape. They are enormous forces of change.

Minimalism is my glacier: slow, steady, landscape-altering and unstoppable.

How Far I’ve Come

With things so crazy and hectic right now, it’s hard not to day dream about this summer, and all the amazing things I hope to get done. My biggest goal this summer? To complete a conclusive purge and to actually get rid of all the stuff we’re not keeping.

I subscribe to a lot of blogs about minimalism and since most of the personal blogs I follow aren’t updated as often, minimalism can be the main topic of my reader a lot of the time. That means I end up reading a lot about minimalism, which in turn means I end up thinking a lot about minimalism. And then I go home and see all our shit and think, I still have such a long way to go.

And I do have a long way to go, but only because I want to go that long way. I don’t subscribe to some definition of minimalism, some description of how a minimalist lives. I believe minimalism means different things to different people. I’m not even sure my idea of minimalism would even qualify for anyone else. All I know is that embracing the concept (in whatever way I might embrace it) helps me to make hard choices I wouldn’t push myself to make otherwise. So while I doubt that my brand of minimalism is anyone else’s, it means to me what I need it to mean.

And surprisingly, most of what I read about minimalism jives with my mindset. I have yet to come across a post that inadvertently calls me out as a fake or a fraud. Minimalism is what people want it to be. It’s a journey, not a destination. It’s a tool to build with, not an assembled product.

So when I look around and see how far I still have to go, I’m not deeming myself a failure, I’m simply acknowledging that I haven’t yet discovered the life I want under all our stuff.

But I’m getting closer. The positive effects of my efforts are obvious, and they are everywhere. My life has fundamentally changed since I embraced minimalism, and that change has absolutely been for the better.

I was appreciating how far I’ve come this past weekend as my husband and I picked up for the house cleaner. There was a time when the pick up necessary for someone to be able to clean was a terrifying proposition. The sheer time and effort involved was overwhelming. It would take hours to sort through the shit of just one room, let alone get them all to a reasonable state simultaneously. We lived in constant chaos, there was crap every where.

Now it takes a few hours to get the house where it needs to be for a cleaner to come. Even when the house is a disaster, I never look around and see a mess I can’t manage. I know I can get it picked up, if I just take the time to do it. That alone has been life changing.

We’ve gotten rid of so much stuff: an entire bookcase and all its contents; my daughter’s toy and book shelves (the ones we replaced them with, which came with her loft bed, are not even 1/5 the size of the originals); two giant toy boxes and dozens of stuffed animals; a 300 DVD capacity rack and all its DVDs; a stereo cabinet; tons of crap in the kitchen. Our house is only 1200 sq ft, so the absence of these big pieces of furniture is very noticeable. Our house feels lighter now, less cluttered, more inviting.

And there is still so much stuff that we have and don’t need. And there are so many things I’ve removed from the house but left in the garage as I await an opportunity to donate them. This summer I plan on executing the ultimate purge, a culmination of this two year effort, a final attempt to get our stuff where we want it to be.

I know I’ll keep needing to purge, that shit will come in and I’ll need to work hard at continuing to move it out. But I also know that despite so many attempts, I’ve never arrived at that sweet spot, where I truly feel like we have what we need, and nothing more. I’ve gotten close, and I’ve come so far; I know now that this is how I want to live. I feel my mindset has finally shifted enough that I’m ready to really embrace this choice fully, to live this life with fewer things. I’m excited to get to that space, to have a genuine starting point for this journey.

This summer I intend to make it happen. This summer I will finally achieve my own personal interpretation of minimalism–a jumping off point, for our unique attempt at living with less.

Thank you for accompanying me this far–I hope you’ll join me for the rest of this journey.

Improvement

So, things in my marriage are looking up. We definitely hit bottom for a few days after my husband refused to go to the couples weekend. But then I wrote my husband an email (there never seems to be a good time to talk) and I explained how frustrated I was, and how disappointed I would be if he didn’t read the book and plan our DIY couples retreat weekend. I talked about why I was suspicious it would happen, bringing up his past refusals to read ANY self-help or parenting book I’d ever recommended, and how frustrating it was that he avoided using resources when he was clearly struggling. This is part of what I wrote:

I am realizing that I feel a lot of resentment about that–your refusal to try to learn new skills to better cope with challenges. Parenting Isa has been so hard, and I’ve spent so much time trying to learn new ways of managing her behavior–and my own–and it feels like you’ve never taken one concrete action to feel more capable as a parent. That wouldn’t bother me if we both weren’t struggling so much just to get by, if it weren’t such a common occurrence to get a frustrated, venting text or call in the morning, before or during my work day, if I didn’t feel I had to take the kids out most weekends to give you a break. There have been times when I’ve felt like I needed more support, but didn’t feel I could ask for it because you were already so overwhelmed. And so we created this dynamic where I’m the primary parental figure, and I’m the one who shoulders the burden of managing all of that entails, of orchestrating things behind the scenes, of learning how to best help our children through their unique challenges. That means it’s fallen to me to learn how to best manage all of this stuff, and it’s been a lot of pressure and it’s been really hard for me.

So I sent that. And then I heard nothing, and things between us remained tense. Then, that Sunday night, I was strangely “in the mood,” (this almost never happens, especially not when we’re not getting along) and I decided I would suggest some intimacy before bed. And I did. And he was happy to oblige. And we had some amazing sex. And evidently, it was just what we needed. After that, everything changed.

I still think it’s odd that we never talked specifically about the email (actually at one point we did, and he said he’d respond in writing, but that never happened), but I’ve noticed his attitude and behavior have changed a little bit since he read it. He offers to help me more. He even insisted on coming to a birthday party one weekend afternoon, something he never does. When I’ve said I was overwhelmed at work he offered two concrete times I could get away and grade papers, instead of just mentioning that I should “take a night” like he used to. When I came home from a meeting on Thursday and was clearly stressed and on the verge of losing my shit, he stepped in and took over part of the bedtime routine (even though the night before had been one of my paper grading nights) and when I emerged super late from our daughter’s room after passing out while we snuggled, he just told me he’d make her lunch for the next morning, instead of vaguely suggesting that he could.

Something I wrote clearly struck a cord with him in some way, because he obviously is trying to change. And I’m trying to meet him half way. I ask for help more, and when he offers, I take it. I show gratitude for what he does, but I don’t assume he can’t handle more. I’m sure his attitude change has helped, because he doesn’t seem as overwhelmed as he once was, and when he starts to fall back into that routine, he apologizes and soldiers on.

We’ve mentioned the DIY couples retreat with the resigned humor I was hoping we’d embrace if we went on the real retreat, which makes me hopeful that it will actually happen and might even be productive. The book I wanted him to read was available to listen on Hoopla and he downloaded it. And when I mentioned that I really thought he could benefit from the parenting book I’m reading right now (and loving) he actually asked me what it was called. I suggested he read it this summer when I’m in St. Louis with the kids, I hope he takes me up on it.

This weekend we had some frustrating moments, but we were able to talk about what was bothering us and ended up having some productive conversations. My parents had the kids on Sunday morning and we went to brunch before seeing Capitan America Civil War (so freaking amazing!) and that was fun.

And that’s where we are right now. We haven’t really talked but the way we interact with each other is changing, and I always say that actions speak louder than words, so I’m taking it as a win. I REALLY hope that we keep up this momentum, and that we’re in a good place for our “couples retreat.” My husband has said multiple times that he just can’t understand where I’m coming from on a lot of issues; I’m hoping the book will help him see things in a new light, or at least prompt him to do some exploring of his attitude and assumptions. I know that when I read the book I recognized that I was doing most of the things that pretty much guarantee your marriage will end up in jeopardy. I’ve tried really hard to break those habits and I think it has made a difference. If my husband could do the same we’d really be getting somewhere.

In the meantime, our kids still cycle through trying and less trying attitudes, but over all are not as challenging as they were two months ago. That’s probably helping things as well. In six weeks it will be summer, which is generally a good times for us as a couple, as my break from work (and now our daughter’s break from school) gives us all a break, in a lot of ways.

Thing are improving, and once again, I have hope.

How is your marriage doing these days?

The Home Stretch

May and June are always really stressful months for me. Now that I have a kid in school that stress is compounded three fold.

There are just so many events, so many celebrations, so many expectations on parents to bring food to this or that thing. This week was Teacher Appreciation Week and it’s important to me that we show my daughter’s teachers that we hold them and what they do in high esteem. I have to take my last day off to attend my daughter’s Kindergarten Promotion and then that night it’s my school’s Open House. My husband (and his parents, who are my back-up child care providers) are out of town next week when we’re testing on a block schedule so I have to take an hour off (that I don’t actually have) because I can’t be at work until 9am, but have to be here at 8am. There are three or four special celebrations at my daughter’s school in the evenings between now and the end of May. Then there are special celebrations at my school the three weeks after that. My daughter’s birthday party is the first weekend in June, and I haven’t even really started planning it yet (though we did reserve a spot at the park, so at least that’s done).

There is just so much to do and I’m not really sure when I’m supposed to do it all. I’m also worried I’m going to forget about it half of it entirely.

Ugh. I hate this time of year.

Six weeks to go.

Close It Down

Yesterday I used half of our tax return to pay off the remaining $2,606.66 of my student loans.

It felt amazing.

I know I’m very lucky that my parents paid for my public undergraduate education, and that I only had graduate school debt to pay back. I’m sad I probably won’t be able to afford my children that same luxury. (Even the California State schools and UCs are becoming prohibitively expensive.)

I’m so glad I paid more every month than was required and closed out my account three years early. That is one of the few sound financial choices I’ve made in my adult life.

We still have so far to go to reach the financial security we are hoping to achieve, but paying off my student loans is definitely a step in the right direction.

Missing Mojo

I’ve totally lost mojo at work and I’ve become a completely mediocre teacher. I just can’t seem to pull it together enough to give a fuck. Most of the day I get by, but my last class is a tough mixture of kids and they need me to  be stalwart in my consistency which requires lots of energy and attention. Instead I end up following them on their random tangents and losing 10 minutes waxing philosophical or meandering down memory lane. We are falling severely behind and I’m panicking about what to cut, because there is no way we can finish it all. I feel like such a failure walking away from work every day. It’s really starting to get me down.

There are other things about work that suck right now. My VP is basically gaslighting me, which is infuriating. I don’t think it’s personal, or even purposeful, it’s just that denying that things she said or did actually happened is her way of avoiding taking personal responsibility. I’m really hoping our new principal can come in and deal with this, because I basically said I won’t teach English Language Development (or administer the CELDT test, or be involved in the RFEPing processes, or have anything else to do with ELD unless she can provide me with a formal description of what that position entails (I know, my expectations are so high!) They will be FUCKED if I step down from the position next year, so I’m confident the new principal will step up and be a professional about it. It’s not his style to play mind games and hide behind the district office like my current VP. Still, it has been infuriating to deal with.

There are also a lot of long time staff leaving at the end of this year. It’s going to be weird without them, and hearing about their new plans is a reminder that I abandoned my own plans to look for a new job. Three of them are leaving the area, not just our school, because things have become so untenable in this area for people making a teacher’s salary. (This actually brings up a whole other hosts of feelings for me about how I don’t feel the negatives of living here outweigh the positives, but that is for another post). The other, my good friend, is leaving to teach at a high school. We talked a lot about positions at the high school level earlier this year, when I was still on that trajectory. I knew this was probably coming, and I am very happy for her, but it’s hard not to see her so excited for a new opportunity when I didn’t even end up really looking for one. I don’t regret my decision (I could still apply for jobs if I changed my mind), but I am sad that I need to take at least one more year to get my shit together at home and at work. I just wish I weren’t always struggling so much. And honestly, I feel so shitty about myself as a teacher right now I could NEVER sell myself to someone effectively, let alone have the self-confidence to even apply. It’s definitely not the year for me to be looking for another job.

I know that things are hard right now at home and that is probably why I’m struggling so much at school. I get it. But it’s still hard. And there are so many days left, so many afternoons where I have to walk away feeling like the most ineffectual teaching on the planet, wondering how I could still suck this much at classroom management after 12 FUCKING YEARS of teaching.

31 teaching days left.

25+ years to go.

 

In Search of Spirituality

{I wrote this the Friday before I found out my aunt died; it felt disingenuous to put it up that following week. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since then, especially in the context of my marriage. My husband does not have any need or desire for spirituality in his life, and he doesn’t really understand my interest in it. I wonder if the more fundamental shifts in our foundation are what most bother him. I don’t think divergent perspectives on spirituality need to drive a wedge between two people, but perhaps my pursuit of a more meaningful life signals a deeper change within me, one that might be harder for my husband to embrace.}

If there is one deeply necessary thing lacking from my life, it is spirituality. I don’t believe there is a god, but I do believe their are forces at work in this world that I can’t comprehend and I recognize the need to cultivate a practice that incorporates reverence and gratitude into my daily life.

I feel fortunate that I know where to start, that there is a spiritual tradition that speaks to me and that I believe I can mold to meet my needs. While I would not call myself a follower, I do consider myself a student of Buddhism, and I hope to commit myself more fully to its precepts and teachings in the years to come.

Right now I am focusing on my own values, and trying to practice mindfulness  so as to better embody my values in my every day life.

Three of the values I’m focusing on right now are kindness (toward self and others), gratitude, and understanding (of people’s experiences and the workings of the universe). I can embrace these values on my own, through study, reflection, meditation, and my every day actions, and I am attempting just that. It’s hard, and I have a long way to go, but I know that something needs to change, that something is missing, and I can’t hope to find it if I’m not embracing the qualities that I am drawn to most in other people.

I’m reading a book called It’s a Meaningful Life, If Just Takes Practice (by Bo Lozoff). It’s a wonderful book that address common questions about pursuing a spiritual life with specific practices meant to help you discover and walk your own path. The book is brutally honest in its critique of mainstream American society and I find myself cringing with shame or even bristling defensively at some of what he says. When I react negatively, I stop reading for a day or two and ruminate on the point that was made and how it triggered me. Almost always I conclude that I agree with his opinion, even if I recognize that I’m not ready to make the sacrifices he suggests.

I’m very much aware that I consider some of his suggestions sacrifices (like severely limiting screen time, or abstaining completely from alcohol), even when I can recognize their value. I think a lot about the fact that I have everything I’ve ever wanted and yet I’m still plagued by dissatisfaction–clearly the changes I need to make are not superficial, and yet I conjure excuses for all the reasons I can’t change the things that probably most need changing.

When I first started reading about Buddhism I thought a lot about the monks who had devoted their life to reaching enlightenment, giving up all worldly possessions in the pursuit of spiritual fulfillment. Even at the very beginning of my journey, when I had yet to understand the depth of my need for spirituality, I suspected that I’d choose my own life, with all its creature comforts and crippling depression, over the life of those monks, even though I believed, deep in my heart, that they are happier. Even then I recognized that I didn’t have the courage to let go of the familiar, even when it was making me miserable.

I’m still not sure I have the courage to tear down the foundation of who I am and how I see the world and build something better. It’s hard to go against the status quo, especially when you’re as plagued with uncertainty and self-doubt as I am. It’s also hard to accept the status quo when it’s clearly failing.

I’m not sure where this search for spirituality will lead me, but I know I need to keeping looking. I owe myself that much.

Plan B

We’re not going to the couples retreat. My husband was vehemently opposed and I didn’t try to convince him.

He recognizes that being the one who won’t go, he has to come up with some other plan of action. I appreciated that much.

At one point, when I was trying to sell the couples retreat, I mentioned that if we didn’t go we could always make our own couples retreat, and work through some of the exercises in Gottman’s The Seven Principals for Making Marriage Work. Or we could see a therapist on a regular basis. Last night my husband proposed Plan B.

I was surprised at how vehemently opposed to that I ended up being.

The thing is, I tried to do that years ago, to work through the exercises in that book in an attempt to help us be closer. My husband’s reaction was so negative and ugly–Why would we need to do that? There is literally nothing I’d rather do less. You may like that self-help garbage, but I can’t think of a way I’d less like to spend my time.— and felt like such a vicious personal attack, that I vowed never to suggest it again. That exchange has sullied my feelings for my husband, and our relationship, in lasting ways. I don’t think I realized how much it all hurt me until he suggested it as an alternative to the retreat weekend, at which point I struggled not to break down sobbing.

I said I would participate, willingly, but I refused to execute that plan in any way. I reminded him that I’d tried to work through those exercises with him–I’d even photocopied parts of the book I thought would benefit us–and he threw it all back in my face, without ever reading a word. I told him how hurt I had been by that–perhaps it was the first time he was hearing about the pain he inflicted–and that I couldn’t bring myself to be so vulnerable to his scorn toward this kind of thing again.

He understood, or he understood well enough to concede and accept the responsibility for planning the weekend moving forward.

We talked more about why we need to do this, about how distant we’ve grown. He feels a certain amount of resentment that we have to work so hard to be happy together. He believes that couples shouldn’t have to work so hard, that if we were meant to be together, the being together part should be more effortless. I tried to explain that a lot of couples work hard at marriage, but we don’t hear about it. I suggested that as a man, he probably never heard about it, because when would it even come up? Did he even ask his friends how their marriages were doing? And what of the high divorce rates? Honestly, I still don’t think he believes me. He chalks my insistence that something must be done up to my penchant for embracing self-help and trying to better myself. I told him my own desire to be a better person had nothing to do with what I know about other people’s relationships and my certainty that other couples struggle in the ways we are.

We’re looking at the weekend after the retreat would have been: mid-June. It’s better for me at least, so that’s something. I told him I wouldn’t participate unless he’d read the entire book–no choosing exercises without any context to their purpose or importance. He grudgingly agreed. He also conceded that if he failed to follow through on this I would get to pick the next course of action.

I honestly don’t know if he’s going to pull his shit together and do this, or just unceremoniously lob the ball back to me. I suspect the latter. He has never followed through on this kind of thing before, at least not in our marriage, so my hopes aren’t high, but I’m willing to wait until he’s determined that for himself. And I’ll read the book again, just in case.