The Traditions You Don't Know You Started

It is no secret that my husband is more or less appalled by my eating habits. This poor man is all about the experience . . . and I am about getting food in my stomach in the quickest, cheapest way possible. He has feared since we've been married that nice restaurants on special occasions are lost on me. He has wondered how to make me feel special. I keep telling him "Bring me chocolate."

I should mention if a meal is made in this house involving more than 3 ingredients or the name "Helper" somewhere on the box, it is made by my husband. The past few months Steven has started cooking dinner for us multiple times a week. He gets the groceries, he cooks, we eat. It has been tasty and healthy.

The other day we both came home tired, and Steven actually wanted to order a pizza and watch a movie at home (which rarely happens). Davie was playing with some blocks in the living room floor, when the pizza came. I told Davie it was time to eat. I was going to fix her a plate and bring it to her in the living room so we could start the movie. But when I look for Davie, where is she? The kitchen table, in her usual seat, waiting for us. My heart swelled and broke.

I was so proud of my husband, not just for going the manual labor of cooking us a delicious meal so often when he comes home from work tired, but for making it a priority to sit down at the table together for dinner. You can't know how much Steven and I have butted heads on this issue since we were married. "What is the big deal?!" I always thought. It seemed like he had all these rules about mealtime that I didn't know. My heart broke because without Steven's input this would never be a habit Davie would start on my part. But now that she is expecting it, I wouldn't have it any other way. I realize how important it is to set aside a special time to just enjoy your family and to share something with them.

The Gift of Foresight

I have these crazy vivid dreams. They are usually completely useless, except for the entertainment factor. But last night I had an incredibly compelling dream. It was like all the things that I could call a "curse" or an annoyance in my life I had the option to put up in flames. I had the matches in my hand, it was all planned out. I lit the match and threw it into my house. In my dream I remember thinking this was a good idea. It would be cleansing to be free of all these material things I am supposed to take care of. All that would be left would be me and my loved ones. We could start over. However, as soon as the flames started crawling up the outsides of the house, I started to feel sick. I started to cry. Not necessarily for the loss of these material things, but because I was destroying things . . . all by myself. It wasn't therapeutic, it was wrong. I remember thinking that I would do anything to take it back.

Today it was like I was seeing things through new eyes. We are honestly honored to be able to have two cars to take us where we need to go . . . even if the payments are annoying. We are honored to have this charming little house that Davie has been so happy in even if it is not in our favorite neighborhood. I am honored to have a husband whose only dissatisfaction with me comes from wanting to be closer to me.

Today in an act of symbolism and curiosity, I burned a piece of paper. As I watched it burn I felt that tightness in my chest and the nausea in my stomach, just imagining if my dream last night had been a reality. I reminded myself that this was just a piece of paper. I have a new thankfulness for the little and big blessings all over my life.

I am so thankful for that horrible dream last night. It feels like since I woke up I was given a second chance.