Like a rock

When Mark told me about the opportunity to become a rock climbing guide with Becknology, a great rock climbing company in Nashville, so many questions ran through my head…

You want to climb a rock?

You can get paid for climbing rocks?

Like real money?

You’re going to get paid real money doing something you love?

None of it made lots of sense in my head.  Work is supposed to just be work.  No one ever really enjoys it, right?  Ok, there are some weirdos out there, but for the most part we’re all supposed to hate our jobs.

After processing the confusion (Seriously, you’re going to get paid in real money?  You’re sure?  Because we can’t pay for McDonald’s with pebbles. But I guess we could try…).

And the jealousy (So your ‘job’ is going to be going outside taking people on exciting excursions? I hate you.).

I was thrilled (Matthew McConaughey.  Will you look like him soon? Pleasesayyes, pleasesayyes.).

Ok, that’s not what I was the most excited about.  I was really excited because my husband has one of the most fearless and courageous spirits I’ve ever encountered.  There is nothing he won’t try, nothing he isn’t curious to learn more about.  It’s this trait that won my heart.  And all of a sudden that spirit inside of him was being valued by others.

I’m just so proud of him.  I’m proud of the kind of people he has chosen to surround himself with.  I’m proud that every single day he gets to simply be who he is and that we get to pay bills because of it.  I’m proud that I’m married to a man.  A man that isn’t afraid to “look” different.  Who isn’t afraid to take risks.  Who isn’t afraid to be himself.  Who isn’t afraid to listen to the God we pray to every morning.

On Monday I took the day off for what I called “Take Your Wife To Work Day”.  The idea was that I’d possibly try this rock climbing thing.  But I didn’t, but that’s because I’m morally opposed to objectifying rocks for my entertainment.  Rocks are people too, you know.

But that’s a story for tomorrow another day.  Today I just want to celebrate how grateful I am to be married to a man that is fully engaged with life.
And, for your viewing pleasure, here is Mark at the top…

of this…

which is like 80 feet above sanity.

I hope my heart can handle this.

Perfection is never an option

I am not a perfectionist. At all. If I was I wouldn’t leave my clothes on the floor. Or wait until the last minute to write papers. Or eat McDonald’s every day.

I am the queen of Good Enough.

Even when I started The Shred, my standard of good enough shone through. I made Mark take “before” pics (can you have before without an after? wouldn’t this just be an “is” pic?) of me in my bathing suit so that I would be motivated to change. Except that when I saw the “before” pic I was all “Dude, check this out, I’m hot.” Sure, I have love handles and bulges and cankles, but other than that? Shoot, I am ready for the cover of Maxim in my opinion.

Perfection just isn’t in my vocabulary.

For most of my life I’ve wished I was a perfectionist. Because perfectionists care. Perfectionists make sure the words are straight on poster board presentations. Perfectionists take showers. Daily.

And then last week I realized something. I put together a premarital education workshop that was FAR from perfect. It was thrown together. Lots of great information, sure. But it didn’t flow the way I wanted it to. I didn’t have all the handouts I wish I had. The setting wasn’t exactly how I want it to be. But it served its purpose and couples are, hopefully, going to be a little bit better prepared for marriage.

I’m learning that my inability to care about perfection may just be the luxury that so few people have, especially perfectionists. I have the luxury of falling forward. I’ve given myself complete permission to be average, so-so, decent in exchange for the promise of always making each workshop better than the last. Going ahead and getting something out there means that I have something to work with.

So for as long as I’m trying to build this thing I call the Nashville Marriage Studio, I’m going to count my lack of perfectionism as a strength. Now, if I decide to become a tattoo artist that’s a whole other story…

UPDATE: Ok. So it’s come to my attention that I didn’t make some important things clear.

First, I was not unprepared for this workshop. I’ve been sitting on tons of great information for months simply waiting to get motivated to share it with my tiny portion of the world. There is no doubt that I know what I am talking about and that I shared it in an easy to digest way.

Second, here are some specific ways that I intend to improve the workshop. I originally wrote the handouts the way I like handouts which is pretty bare and I get to write in the information that is important to me. I do not like it when handouts have everything the speaker is going to say printed on them because it feels like you’re just reading on. Some people, however, like having all this information to take home and read over later. I plan on respecting that learning style more and preparing a “handbook” of sorts to go WITH the workshop that can be read later.

I am also planning to lay the workshop out in a way that creates the sense that couple’s questions are getting answered. I felt that I presented tons of information without taking the time to think “What question is this information answering?” I plan on going through the information next time in more of a “question answer” format.

The setting was FAR from what I wanted. The company I work for has allowed me to use office space for counseling sessions and workshops. It isn’t the most attractive place and not what I have in my imagination for where I want future workshops to be held. But nothing beats free. In the future I would love to host this workshop at a hotel or one of the small coffee shops in Nashville. Unfortunately, these are not possibilities right now.

These are the areas that I believe the workshop could be improved. Not necessarily in the presentation or the information provided. I am sorry that I did not make that clear.

Third, I only received extremely positive feedback afterwards. And nearly everyone asked when the next one was so that they could tell their such-and-such about it. If anything, I think my fun, entertaining, pop culture oriented (Jon and Kate’s drama helped immensely to bring everyone to the same page on what I was taking about avoiding), and young approach to these counseling topics make it immensely more likely that these couples will be open to future counseling because they realize that therapists do not have to be old fuddy-duddy sticks in the mud.

Oh and this is the post that “inspired” me to write this post.  http://48daysblog.wordpress.com/2009/06/29/get-it-out-the-door-now/

Kinda like snakes on a plane… just depends on what you ate

After I won that Flip camera from Alice I decided that I would quit entering giveaways since I would probably win all of them because I am a witch lucky.  This has been hard for me because Alice gives stuff away, like, all the time, and  I restrain myself, lest I be burned at the stake.

But when Alice finally opened up shop and I saw a giveaway at Employee Evolution/Brazen Careerist I couldn’t help myself.  I had to enter.  Had. to.

And I had to because my special witch powers gut told me to.  My gut told me this because she knew I would be a winner.  And she was right.  I WON, PEOPLE!  One hundred dollars to spend however I choose at Alice.  So cool.  And I swear I’m not a witch.  Or at least I hope I’m not a witch.

Don’t hate me because I’m lucky.

And now for your conversational enjoyment…

Marie:  I wish I was a flight attendant. 

Mark:  You can’t be a flight attendant.  You’d never be home.

Marie:  Flight attendants go home.

Mark:  You’d only be home long enough to poop.

Marie:  Do you think people poop on airplanes?

Mark:  I’m sure they do.

Marie:  You’ve never pooped on an airplane… have you??? (Who is this man?)

Mark:  No, but if I had to…

Marie:  No. way.  I can’t believe you’d poop on an airplane.  Have you no morals?

I just can’t comprehend pooping while onboard a plane.  I can’t.  I mean, what if I took so long that a line formed waiting for me to finish?  Talk about a walk of shame.  Pooping takes time, people, and the goal with plane potties is to be as quick as possible.  And what if it stank up the place?  I mean, seriously, consider your fellow plane mates.  You can’t open up windows.  I’m not even going to go into the potential embarrassment of crashing while pooping…

I promise that this is the very last post on bowel movements (or at least until I have kids.  Then it’s bowel movements and questions about circumcision 24/7), but tell me, is plane pooping ok with you?  I won’t judge you.  I just have to know if I’m the only person in the world that would NEVER consider pooping while in the air.

The Unabridged Bride: A workshop GIVEAWAY

I just finished my first Bound Together workshop, and now I’m on to #2 for the summer.  It’s like I just can’t get enough.

This one is the Unabridged Bride and is the brain child of me and Liza of Maiden to Married.  But I’m more like the guy parent because I’ve just kinda stood next to her as she did all the hard work.  But whenever one of you says, “Aww, what a cute workshop!” I’m so going to be all “I know!  It looks just like me, huh?”

And then Liza’s going to slap me upside the head.  And I’ll be in sleeping on the couch for, like, a week.  Gosh.  I think we need counseling.  Or transition coaching.  Both of which you will get a taste of at The Unabridged Bride: A Workshop!  Like that segue, don’t you?

Anyways, check out the info below and then head over to her blog and read the answer(s) that are coming in.  I love The Thirty-Something Bride AND her comment.  Great word.

Brides, get excited about this fun and amazing giveaway!

What are we giving away, you ask?

• A seat at The Unabridged Bride: A Workshop
• A pre-marital counseling sessionwith Nashville Marriage Studio
• A bridal coaching sessionwith Maiden to Married
• AND…your wedding will be featured on Ashley’s Bride Guide!

All this has a value of over $350!

Now the big question! How do you win?!!

Just tell us one word you would use to describe the wedding experience you’re dreaming of and why.

You can submit that to one of two places:

1. At Liza’s blog Maiden to Married for all to see by leaving a comment on this post
2. In private to liza@maidentomarried.com

We’ll post the winner on Sunday, July 12th!

Have fun and good luck!

Domesticate Me: Shopping

I wear contacts.  I love my contacts because for most of my waking hours I believe that there is nothing wrong with my eyes and that I have naturally perfect vision.  The same way I have naturally perfect teeth. 

The contacts do such a great job of convincing me that my vision is perfect that I forget I wear them.  This is great except for the fact that sometimes remembering that I wear contacts would be a good thing.  Like when I’m at the store.  And I need to buy contact solution.  For the contacts that I never remember I wear.

It never fails.  I put my contacts in and use a bottle of contact solution that wheezes when I squeeze it because it is so empty.  I think, “Remember to buy contact solution when you go to the store”.  I go to the store and the only thing I remember to do is pick up Doritos and to sneak a peek at the latest US Weekly. 

And then I return home to an empty bottle of contact solution.  Every. single. time.

I assumed that short of vision correcting surgery this would be something I would suffer with  forever.  Except I didn’t know that I’d meet Alice.  Alice Dot Com.

So, this Domesticate Me video is actually ME giving YOU advice.  Because I believe in returning favors.  You’re welcome.

Internet References:  Well, it’s pretty much just Alice.com where you can buy pretty much any household good for VERY competitive prices and free shipping.  I’m not sure if this deal can get any better.  I really don’t.

Jon and Kate Divided by Two

Marie:  Sobbing

Mark:  Oh my goodness.  What is it now?  Another jewelry commercial?  We have got to figure out how to block those things…

Marie:  No, it’s…it’s…it’s Jon and Kate… sob… they’re getting a…a…divorce. Wahhh!

Mark:  Who are Jon and Kate??

Marie:  You obviously need to stand in more lines at the grocery store…

As I’m sure you’ve heard, Jon and Kate are getting divorced. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t watch any episodes this season because watching was basically voting for the show to stay on the air.  But then they had that big announcement and I really, really wanted to know.  And I really, really wanted it to be that they were going to get counseling.

I quickly realized there wouldn’t be any reconciliation and I started sobbing.  I’m not sure if it’s being married, or being married to someone who has gone through a divorce, or just being an overly sensitive human being, but my heart breaks when I hear about couples getting divorced.  Even reality show stars with lots of bad communication skills.

I look at Jon and part of me wants to call him a douche because he is acting pretty nonchalant about the whole thing (”I’m only 32″ and “excited” about the future).  But then I think about how they got here.  How often he was put down or disregarded by Kate, and I do understand that his heart has hardened.  I understand that he had to build that wall in order to stop the pain.  And I start crying for him.

And then I look at Kate and think, well, you kinda brought this upon yourself.  You’re pretty mean and bossy.  But then I remember that Jon never said she was mean and bossy, so how was she to know that she had “crossed the line”?  And when she finally finds out that Jon’s pissed she also finds out that he’s done.  I really think that, in a lot of ways, she has been blindsided by this divorce.  And I start crying for her.

And then those kids.  Oh my goodness.  ALL those cute, sweet, “Be quiet, I’m doing an interview!” kids.  They seemed so unaware on the show last night.  But how could you really care about the end of your parents’ marriage when you were getting those super cool Crooked Houses built for you, right?  I remember any fight that my parents had that made me think they might actually get divorced and how absolutely terrified I would become.  And I cry for them.

There are monumental levels of pain going on for them and it’s just so terribly sad.

Everybody loves to do it

It was on mine and my mom’s mind pretty much the minute Mark and I decided to get married. No one spoke outloud about it because, well, it was a little rude. But I had a history. And if past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior? I was screwed.

A week before the wedding my mom pulled me aside. To talk.

Mom: Marie.

Me: Mom.

Mom: What are you going to do about… you know.

Me: I really haven’t thought about it… maybe it won’t be that big of a problem…

Mom: Marie! It is a huge problem! Don’t you remember Greece and Italy?

Ah, yes. Greece and Italy. The 10-day trip where I managed to avoid my biggest fear in the entire world. Going Numero Dos somewhere that is not my house. I can’t do it. And my mom knew that. I only got to speak to her once during that trip and the only thing she chanted the whole time we were on the phone was, “Poop, Marie, poop!”

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. It wasn’t home, and I refused to subject myself to the potential embarrassment of someone finding out that I was… human.

Me: Yes, but I was half way across the world! I figure I’ll just stop by your house every day, and… you know.

Mom: Marie, that is not a plan.

But it was the best I could do. A week before marrying the person I wanted to share my everything with, and I was crafting elaborate schemes so that I could hide my disgusting habit of “releasing myself”.

The wedding came and went, and Mark and I were packing up to leave for the honeymoon. I hugged my mom goodbye and she whispered sternly into my ear, “Poop“.

I ignored her. I would poop when I got back. At their house. There was no way to convince me otherwise.

We made it to our honeymoon hotel and I plopped down on the bed disappointed that where we were staying did NOT look like the brochures.  Advertising lies.  Shocking.

As I started to complain about the bed, Mark walked past me, “I have got to go to the bathroom.”

Oh, no.  It was the first time since we’d arrived that I realized that no matter how much I may want to poop during our stay I would have to wait.  I would not have the luxury Mark obviously had of just going whenever I wanted.  I had promised myself.  No poop.  I began to mentally run through all the items I could and could not eat.

And then I heard Mark call out from the bathroom, “Everybody loves to poop.”

I honestly have no clue why he said that other than the fact that there IS a God.  And that God knows me.  He knows that one of my most favorite movie scenes of all time is in Billy Madison when the kid pees his pants and Adam Sandler pours water on himself and proclaims that “you ain’t cool unless you pee your pants”.

God was giving me the gift of my very own Billy Madison, championing my right to poop.  Everybody does love to poop, goshdarnit.  It’s practically THE American past time!

And so I pooped, and loved it.  And I was fully confident that this man had married me and all my crap, too!

If you are one of those people that thinks I’m “crazy”, I suggest you go read this.  The lady thinks her husband doesn’t know she poops because she runs the shower at the same time.  That’s either pure genius or pure crazy.  I’m still deciding.

Shred It or Forget It?

There are lots of myths about the first year of marriage.  Like, it’s really hard.  And you’re going to do it ALL THE TIME.  And you’re going to get bruises from your first month of sleeping in the same bed.  And you’re going to gain so much weight that you cry getting ready in the morning…

Wait.  What?  That’s not a first year of marriage myth?  Are you sure?  Because it’s kinda happening to me…

Mark and I have both gotten a little chubbier over the past year.  Which is, I guess, expected when you eat McDonald’s everyday…

Gaining weight is completely acceptable when it is done as a TEAM.  Because marriage is all about teamwork.  And, seriously?  I didn’t get married because I wanted to stay hot forever.  I got married so I could LET GO.  Can I get an ‘amen’?

Like I said, totally cool to let the love handles out when it’s done as a team.  And by ‘team’ I mean ‘we’re getting fat together’.  But what about when one of you gets all traitorous and goes agains the ways of your couch potato lifestyle?  What happens when one of you starts losing weight because of something I’m not allowed to blog about yet?

First, you try to entice him back to the dark side with a mouthwatering Big Mac.  Extra special sauce. 

And when that doesn’t work?  You get off the couch.  And you join the crazy blogging people known as Shred Heads.

I heard about them last week after reading a review of The Shred dvd.  I love Lindsay of Suburban Turmoil for many reasons (like she’s from Nashville and her husband is local famous), but mostly because I trust her.  I don’t know why.  But I do.

So when she said that she lost 5 pounds and showed me Before and After pics of other Shred Heads I was sold.

Well, sold until I actually DID the dvd.  Because Lindsay said it was hard.  And that she hurt the next day.  She didn’t mention, however, THAT IT COULD KILL YOU. 

Not only did this twenty minute workout almost kill me, it almost ruined my marriage.  Because, word of advice, if your wife is doing The Shred in the living room and you are watching FROM THE COUCH you probably shouldn’t say things like, “Go farther down with that push-up” or “C’mon get into that squat!”.  Because I promise you she is imagining all the different ways to kill you and all the ways her super smart lawyer friends can get her out of jail.  Promise.

I’ve done The Shred three times now.  I’m not sure if it’s working, but that’s because I’m too busy trying figure out how to walk without using the achey burning muscles in my legs to notice if I’ve lost any weight. 

But until cankles become sexy, I think I’m going to have to Shred til I’m dead…

Domesticate Me: The Dishes

I was going to write about my experience with The Shred, but my whole body is aching.  Even my fingers.  So that will have to wait, and we’re just going to move right on to a Domesticate Me video.  Because you love them so.  Right? 

Of course you do.

How do you do dishes when you don’t have a dishwasher?  The last time I was in this predicament was when I lived in a dorm and all I had to do was eat the same meal (microwavable mac ‘n cheese) out of the same bowl every. single. day.  I don’t think that plan will fly anymore.

And my second question, do you think there is a way to train cats to do dishes? 

Let me know your thoughts.

Internet References:  Elisa Doucette from Ophelia’s Webb reminded me of this troubling form of water torture.  Thanks so much!  And HUGE sorries if I didn’t say your name correctly.  Need to start making more Internet friends with Kim’s and Jill’s.  Names I can’t screw up.

Oh, and there is a point where I say “don’t hate me” because I moved from my dad’s place to my husband’s place.  I don’t mean that in a “don’t hate me because I’m beautiful”, I mean it in a “some people are passionately opposed to living with your parents after you’re an “adult” and don’t hate me because I did.  And liked it” kind of way.  That is all.

Splish Splash I was Taking a Bath

I was nominated by the adorable Future Mrs. Smith for a Splash Award.  I don’t really know what the Splash Award is, but I’ve never been one to shy away from being told I’m loved.

More than that, I’m excited to share MY list of must-read bloggers…

Modite

I had coffee a few months ago with the wonderful Sam Davidson, and I finally met someone “in real life” who could share my love of all things Modite.  Seriously, this is a paraphrase of our conversation:

Me:  So, you’ve met Rebecca from Modite, right?

Sam: Yup.  I went up to Madison.

Me:  Is she as awesome as she seems?  *please say yes, please say yes*

Sam:  Every bit.  She’s just great.

Me:  Ohmigoodness, I KNOW!

Rebecca at Modite.  She’s verified goodness.

More from the Mohrs

I have loved this blog for awhile.  Mark was in a band a few years ago, and this is the blog of the lead singer, his wife, and their son.  Katie is hilarious.  And I adore her “voice”.  Not that it hurts to have a such bloggable goodness wrapped up in a package called Eliot.

Halfway to Normal

The ONLY reason I don’t comment more on this blog is because usually I read them and just think, “Beautiful”.  Kristin could talk about how they made Mr. Ed talk by putting peanut butter on his teeth and make you sigh with happiness.  She’s good.  Real good.  And I don’t think a week goes by where I don’t think about this post and whisper to myself, “Exactly.”

There are so many more blogs to include, but I think I’m going to stop with these 3 wonderfully splashable ladies.