During the first weeks following Luke's and my wedding, I felt like a fraud thinking of us as husband and wife; our marriage was too new, too innocent, to be valid. Just like Jello has to sit in the fridge for a few hours before it'll assume its permanent shape, so must our relationship undergo the same process.
While I wait for time to mold our union into something less liquid-y, I think a lot about what it means to be a good wife. As a person, I thought my scorecard was pretty good: close family and friends, good job, nice car, strong belief in God, desire to make babies and improve the state of the universe. As a girlfriend, well, I patted myself on the back for that, too, taking pride in my salary for sustaining our livelihood and my unconventional attitude for letting it happen. I thought bringing home the bacon meant I was an equal contributor to our household. It was as if Ward Cleaver had staked his claim on the new millenium.
Since we've been married, I've been reading a lot of books, including one called Lies at the Altar: The Truth About Great Marriages, written by Oprah's new Dr. Phil, Robin Smith. The book uses a financial checks and balances metaphor to drive home the idea that just like a savings account, a marriage won't survive if you withdraw more than you deposit. It then challenged readers to transcribe one week's worth of their marital credit history.
My deposit? "Stayed up late to view wedding photos." Cuz, you know, I'm the breadwinner and need my beauty sleep. But even that doesn't really count, because a credit is described as something one spouse does for the other without complaint, and there may have been a "But I'm so tiiiiired" whine involved.
My withdrawals? "Didn't cook dinner." "Didn't do laundry." "Asked Luke to run boxes over to Goodwill." "Asked Luke to run to the post office for stamps." "Asked Luke for a foot massage."
Looks like Fifth Third isn't the only one who gets to harp on my @$$ for insufficient funds.
I think about how lucky I am to have Luke in my life and it hurts to breathe. Every morning he gets up to pack up my lunch. He begins his e-mails with "Hi, sweetie," and ends them with "I hope you're having a great day." He'll make a Wal-Mart run at 11:30 on a Thursday night because I forgot to buy contact solution on my way home from work. He never complains that the only dishes I make involve spinach and cheese, and when we go to sleep, he holds me as close as I'll allow, which usually isn't much, as my limbs have a mind of their own and need to be free in the event an urgent head scratch or toe stretch is required. He tells me often how proud he is to be my husband, and then I recall responses to simple requests like rubbing his temples to alleviate a headache and I'm embarassed. I can't rattle off the characteristics that comprise the perfect Eve to Luke's Adam, but I know what he's worth, and I fail to make par. My husband deserves better than eye rolls and sighs that imply my "allowing" him play Nintento DS before bed provides sufficient grounds for sainthood.
It's a good thing we'll be together the rest of our lives. I already have a lot to make up for.
Honey, I already think that you're a great wife, the best I could ever hope for.
By the way, does that earn me anymore interest in the "account"?
Posted by: Luke | June 13, 2006 at 02:06 AM
You're too hard on yourself. You're just natural around Luke, just like you should be! It's okay to ask for Wal-Mart runs and foot massages, you're there for each other. ;) Although I must say, enjoy the foot massages now while they're still coming. Dan stopped answering to my rubbing requests some time ago! ;) Live it up sista.
Posted by: Sambo V. | June 13, 2006 at 12:36 PM
Awww. Luke thinks you're a great wife, and that's all that matters. I usually turn up my nose at relationship advice books, but I like the financial checks and balances metaphor you described. Sometimes I think I'm "overdrawn" too.
Posted by: Fraulein N | June 13, 2006 at 01:09 PM
Frema...what a beautiful post.
And as lucky as we are for having such wonderful husbands, we can't forget that they are lucky to have us.
Marriage = a great thing
(you rock for reading books on marriage.)
Posted by: Isabel | June 13, 2006 at 01:42 PM
FREMA! Don't be so hard on yourself! Luke knew you were going to be a good wife or he wouldn't have married you.
Posted by: Hilary | June 13, 2006 at 03:39 PM
I'm sure that everything will fall into place. Rome wasn't built in a day.
By the way, thanks for reading (and getting through) my last post. You write more engagingly than I do and I take that as a great compliment.
I must remember that it is O.K. to be dull when writing for other nerds, but not when writing for people who have opinions that actually matter.
Posted by: Will Shannon | June 13, 2006 at 04:35 PM
That is the sweetest thing. Also, my husband isn't allowed to even breathe on me in bed. So, you're a pretty great wife yourself! LOL
Posted by: Lena | June 13, 2006 at 05:16 PM
That was so sweet. Marriage is hard and definitly has to be "worked on." You rock for acknowledging that from the jump. Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: lizziep901 | June 13, 2006 at 07:39 PM
I see a solid foundation that is already in place in your relationship. As it builds, it will continue to be strong as long as both of you put the pieces in the right places together.
Posted by: butterflygirl | June 13, 2006 at 08:46 PM
Samantha is right. You are too hard on yourself. If you are half as great a wife as you are a friend, I'm sure you have a very happy husband.
Also, thanks for reminding me to be a little nicer to my great guy as well.
:0)
Posted by: Lost a Sock | June 14, 2006 at 03:52 PM