It's amazing what can happen in a year and a half, since we started this blog.
What started out as a half-serious joke has become a great source of discussion and encouragement!
Dear Future Husbands,
Through this blog we've come to really examine our ideas about our relationships with you: assumptions we've made that we've learned to let go of, and character qualities we've learned are essential.
Future Husbands, we love you, and we're looking forward to spending the rest of our days with you!
I am not super enthusiastic about the whole idea of being locked in a tower and I definitely don't want you, future husband, to call me "princess". However, I do appreciate being rescued.
Whether it's disposing of a dead rodent, helping solve a technical problem, moving a heavy bookshelf or coming to my aid when I get a flat tire or run out of gas, I love knowing that there is a strong, brave, smart, reliable man who will help me when I get into situation we can't handle on my own.
LADIES: Remeber the guys like helping you! So if you are like me and want to prove that you can do everything on your own, don't be afraid to step back and let the man in your life show of how awesome he is by rescuing you from your predicaments every once and while! Save your heroics for a time when there isn't an obliging gentleman around.
I eagerly look forward to the day we live together in our own place. There are several reasons for this, but at the moment I am awaiting the day I don't have to listen to scary noises that houses seem to create at night, all alone. I'll feel much safer when you're around.
with affection & regard, your currently creeped out wife.
as copeland says, "let me draw the blinds for you. I'll be right there." ps. let's have blinds in our house, yeah?
I love music, finding new music, experiencing music. I spend lots of time finding new music, I love to share it with other people, hear their reactions. I love knowing the perfect song to recommend when someone's having a crappy day or I just don't know the right words to say to express exactly how I feel.
So, let's go to rock concerts, accoustic shows, choir competitions, operas, worship services, theaters and experience the music. Let's go hang out at Cheapo and rediscover classics or we can sit around in the living room listening to great music just for fun!
I can't promise that I will have a full dinner prepared from scratch, ready and piping hot, already laid out on the table when you come home from work every night.
But I will try my darndest to make it as regular of an occurrence as possible.
You will be speaking one of my love languages if you make a point to come see whatever productions I've been designing - to spare me the nagging feeling that what I do is pointless. I have probably poured weeks or months of my life into making it look/work right. It would mean so much to me to know that you genuinely take an interest in that part of my life!
I look forward to seeing you in the audience, and running up behind you to tackle you in a death-grip hug after the show. (Or vice-versa - you can do the tackling if you find me first.)
One of the many times my very good friend was gushing and bragging about her beau to me :) she told me that one of the things she most loves and values about him is that "he defaults to hope." That statement has stuck with me since she said it almost two years ago. The more I've thought about it, the more important it's become to me too.
“Defaulting to hope” doesn’t mean always having an enthusiastic smile plastered on your face, convincing yourself to be cheerful all the time. As I’ve been working it out in myself, I understand it to mean that we will never have full control over our own circumstances, BUT each of us is entirely responsible for our own reactions to everything. Get out from under the assumption that you can hold on to a cranky attitude because of someone who wronged you, or because traffic made you late to work this morning, or because of something that happened deep in your past.
Dear Future Husband, I hope and pray that you are not (and will never become) the kind of man who always finds something to complain about and focuses on the negative, because I really can't handle hearing about it all the time. Now don't get me wrong; Everyone needs an outlet to vent every once in a while, and I very much want to understand your world and the things that are bothering you!! It's just that I don’t want to see you get bent out of shape every time something doesn’t turn out the way you planned. One of my favorite quotes to live by (which I'm not sure anyone but my sister will even recognize!) is this:
"Life is full of plans - about half of them get changed. If you get all bent outta shape every time your plans get changed, you'll spend half your life bent outta shape!"
My dear Future Husband, I would much rather grow old with you knowing that you will be hopeful in all things, still counting your blessings when crummy circumstances happen, and ever looking forward to the good things to come. I want the old man lines in your face to be from laughing and smiling, rather than scowling and pouting :)
This applies to all readers: The true challenge of defaulting to hope is to take stock of what you’ve been given, and run with it. If you are living with childhood scars, then you need to become aware of false assumptions you’ve been living under, and change your mindset. Make the most of your circumstances. You absolutely must have an awareness of how much you let negative circumstances shape who you are by how you react! If you know Jesus Christ and you know the words of scripture, you know that this life is not going to be easy, but you have a reason to hope for the abounding life he has promised!
I understand it’s a tall order, but I know it exists because I’ve seen it in enough other people. And I’ve got a bit of hope too :)
My most very favorite music artist Sleeping At Last just released a very fitting song this New Year’s Day that I would really like to accompany this post! Here are the lyrics:
January White
So let's press undo; rearrange the old and call it new-
January white
Every calendar is playing the same old trick:
A year will disappear, replaced with counterfeit
But we'll never really mind
Cause if nothing else, we're given a little time to change the game
A chance to redefine everything we are
In our January white
This year is a sealed envelope; a culmination of hopes
The lottery result that we've been crossing our fingers for
We could paint our walls a lighter shade of blue
Or we could pack our bags and change the entire view
To January white
If nothing else we're given a little time
To change the heart in which we change our minds
Our hourglasses turn
This year is a sealed envelope;
With apprehensive hope, we brace for anything.
I swear, I understand that nothing changes that,
The past will be the past,
But the future is brighter than any flashback.
Well, we could let our guards down a little easier this time,
We could trust that when there's joy, there's nothing dark behind.
In spite of history,
Hope is January white.
This year, we're starting over again
Letter openers in hand, a chance to take a chance.
I swear, I understand that the past will be the past,
And nothing changes that,
But the future is brighter than any flashback
...But I’m not done yet!!
While we are still talking about hope, my church just did a message on Christmas Eve titled “HOPE: A Weary World Rejoices.”
I’m telling you, if you are a human being, you gotta hear this message.
Very simple, honest teaching, with some touching and humorous anecdotes. I hope you can enjoy and get out of it at least as much as I did!
Future Husbands out there, there's a fantastically inspiring story in there that I think you will find very encouraging - go check it out!
I am looking forward to having you around to help me put on bracelets and necklaces that have teeny tiny clasps. Thank you in advance for saving me precious minutes when I'm running late.
A few hours ago, some of us Andalasians were talking about how we enjoy being sappy and sentimental... but we've been very conflicted throughout our lives about letting that show. And I have the sneaking suspicion that it's not limited to the ladies in this house. I think a lot of women are feeling the same way. We figured it has something to with wanting to appear capable - Proving that our heads aren't always in the clouds, or that our thoughts aren't easily swayed by fleeting emotions. Because that would make us less credible.
We've been raised to believe that we can do anything the boys can do. We hear that we need to get higher degrees, and succeed in competitive careers! Join the army! Become President of the United States! Toughen yourself up, and take it like a man! While you're at it, wear the pants in your relationship, IF you're weak enough to need a man! Heaven forbid you "waste your life" keeping a home, supporting a husband, and raising children!
Darn feminist movement. The 70's are over, people!
Sorry. Tangent.
So basically, culture has been telling us all our lives that we need to shut down the emotional side of our brains in order to be more rational, reasonable, intellectual, and capable, and therefore more competitive and successful. Because it is what we women "must do" these days. It's expected of us.
I've spent most of my life doing a frighteningly good job of internalizing everything I felt. Only in the past several months (my roommates have testified to this) have I really been coming to grips with the idea that trying to hide my emotional side is pretty silly. I don't have to suppress it in order to be an intelligent being. I don't have to be any less "capable" in order to acknowledge my emotions. God gave them to me - they are valuable, and I should embrace them. God himself is an emotional being. Just look - He weeps and rejoices all over the Bible! And He is Love! He cares for the littlest sparrow - you can't even imagine how much more He cares for you, a being made in His image!
And He gave women such an extreme capacity for emotion that was created to complement men! It really is a shame we're compelled to stifle it. Let's stop trying to, shall we, ladies? I can say from experience that life is so much more fulfilling when you take time to fully experience and appreciate the beauty in life. Doing so will not make you any less capable. You don't have to prove anything. :)
On that note, future husband of mine somewhere out there, let it be known that I won't fight you for the sake of proving my capability in most cases... EXCEPT when it comes to hooking up the DVD player to the tv and speakers. I take great joy in connecting audio/visual equipment, and I can do it just fine on my own, thankyouverymuch! he he he...
"If you live wide-eyed in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. Keep your eyes open, your lamp burning, so you don't get musty and murky. Keep your life as well-lighted as your best-lighted room." - from Luke chapter 11
In order to avoid waking up in the early stages of hypothermia this morning, I put a little space heater in my room last night. Mornings are especially hard for me anyway, but downright near impossible to function when I'm cold. Brittany woke up to see me sitting literally two feet in front of the little space heater, which I had set to blast me with 80 degree air. She just looked at me and said, "Really, Marlys? Really??"
Yes. Really. :(
If you know me at all by now, future husband, you must know that I am perpetually colder than everyone else around me, and I LIVE for the days when the temperature is 80 degrees or more - which, in Minnesota, is about two, maybe three months out of the year. The rest of the year is pretty depressing for me.
I adore summer, and all things tropical. I love beaches, palm trees, big exotic flowers, tropical fruit, and basking in the sun when it's hot enough to make my skin tingle. I love being able to run outside in shorts and a t-shirt without getting goosebumps and shivering. Being outside is like being in a relaxing sauna, or an ongoing hug that warms me to the core! Few things frustrate me more than coming in from a gorgeous hot day and stepping into a frigidly over-air-conditioned building. I would rather stay outside and sweat. Long, hot days are very fulfilling to my soul, followed by balmy nights sitting around a bonfire, roasting marshmallows and gazing up at a sky full of stars.
Summer has just passed, and cooler temperatures have set in now. I love many things associated with fall: the beauty of the colorful leaves, raking, hot apple cider, pumpkin pie, Thanksgiving... but I can't shake the fact that fall is one big DUN-DUN-DUN for me.
Fall taunts me, saying, "Heh heh heh, Marlys, you think it's cold NOW?? Just you wait! Pretty soon my friend Winter will be here, and he will make you bundle up in even more constricting layers of clothing just to survive, but no matter how many layers you stack on, your tiny body will never produce enough heat to trap under said layers! Even indoors, because no one will want to turn up the heat a few more notches for you to thaw out a little! Mwahahaha! Every muscle of yours will be tense for months on end, which you might temporarily fix with a back rub, but as soon as you step outside again it will all have been in vain! And not only that, but your boogers will freeze too!!"
And yet... I can't bring myself to consider moving away. At least not yet, and definitely not on my own. I don't know how I've made it through the winters every year here. But I love the area. It's always been my home. And I consider my wonderful friendships/community/church/job/house/et cetera, all worth the frozen boogers.
All this is to say, dear future husband, that location and climate will probably have to be a pretty major discussion topic. I don't mean that to sound scary, because as you can see, I could be persuaded either way. Just wanted to make you aware of the issue.
...And to let you know that if we decide to settle in Minnesota (or, heaven forbid, anywhere else that's cold), that you can expect I will be relying on you a lot to help keep me warm. ;-)
You will earn more points than you can imagine if you can speak Russian, try to speak Russian, slaughter Russian, or acknowledge that the Russian language exists. I realize it’s a tricky language. The alphabet is a train wreck of dyslexic letters (backward N’s, and R’s--neither which make an “N” or “R” sound) and letters that are reminiscent of something found in the Star Tribune’s Cryptoquip word puzzles (C=S, P=R, B=V). It’s a minefield to navigate, and anyone who makes the valiant effort to tame and dismantle it deserves to be commended. The great thing is, once you do learn to read it, everything will basically be spelled the way it sounds (take that, English!!)
Convoluted alphabet aside, the sound to my ears is hard to surpass (except maybe by Ukrainian). Don’t bother trying to sweep me off my feet with silly, French poetry. Pushkin makes French look like unintelligent babble (some people learn Russian just to be able to read Pushkin’s works), and if you bring up that he was killed in a dual with a Frenchman (in efforts to defend his wife’s honor), you will be in the red by a negative five million points and pretty much irredeemable. D’Anthes was a jerk, and Pushkin would not have died of such a wound if he had lived in more modern times, but I digress.
Black belt level: Know more Russian than I do, and use it in conversation. Not that I know tons of Russian by any means, but going beyond basic phrases would be nice. I do realize a guy has to start somewhere though, and seeing that you’re trying to make an effort is wonderful. I do have patience.
Above all, don’t mistakingly think that throwing out random phrases to impress me is going to work. Flattery is shallow. Sure, it may briefly snag my attention, and I’ll appreciate the gesture and may smile kindly in return, but what will really catch my eye is if you love the language/culture/people/history/literature, etc. on it’s own terms. A country of eleven time zones and 1/6th of the world’s land mass is not a pawn in a game to win a gal’s affections. It has to be something that God has put in your heart, something you can’t shake, fathom, or describe. If you like Russia just because you like me, I’ll figure it out pretty fast. If, however, you have a genuine, unquenchable thirst of knowledge and passion for all things of Rus’, I just may be a puddle of goo. This is not a guarantee. My personality does contain more than one dimension, and my areas of interest are pretty broad, so making the effort of getting to know me as an entire person on multiple levels is best. In other words, a lot of other factors need to come into play, but like I said, you’ll have bleeped on the radar. Seeing as though so many people I know jokingly reduce Russians to barbaric, alcoholic, Communists, it is indeed a thing of comfort to find anyone who views them intelligently (let alone has travelled to/wants to travel to Russia) and knows Russians for the depth of inner beauty that they possess.
As I once read somewhere:
"Russia is huge, as are its needs and its glories; it is wild, it is unpredictable, it is passionate, and it is wonderful."
In other words, Russia is an adventure waiting to happen. If I can find someone who’s up for such an adventure (from time to time as money permits ;-)), I’m taking applications.
I have been let down a lot. I'm cautious because I don't want to get my hopes up. Again. Please, *please*... be persistent with me. I want to make sure it's really you.
For my birthday a few weeks ago, I was given not one, but two cards with Disney princesses on them. Both of them played music. I am a 20-something-year-old gal, mind you. Granted, one was picked out by my four-year-old niece who is obsessed with all things Disney princesses, but the other was from my 100% Italian, 5’1, 87-yr.-old Nana. Of course, it was carnation-pink with Cinderella in her blue ball gown flanked on either side by a flippered Ariel and graceful Sleeping Beauty donning a golden crown and off-the-shoulder, pink dress. “For the Birthday Princess” it read in white lettering across the top, my name written in pen below with an arrow swooping down and pointing to Cinderella’s clavicle. Sure, I’ll settle for Cinderella. Ariel was whiny and spoiled, Sleeping Beauty was dim-witted and naive, and let’s face it, unconscious for a good portion of the movie. Cinderella put up with a lot of crap! She’s by far the most realistic. She was down-to-earth, content and humble despite her circumstances and she didn’t throw pity-parties about how her prince hadn’t come yet, nor did she think said prince would solve all her problems. It’s not that she didn’t wish things were different. She was optimistic, but also realistic.
I’ve often wondered what the draw is to these princesses as they often only reinforce unrealistic expectations about beauty, love, marriage, and so many other things. “Every girl can beeee a princess!! Any dream can beeeee!!” the card from my Nana wistfully sang. I guess I must be an odd duck in the sense that I never went through the typical girly princess phase. Although my room growing up did have matching Pepto Bismol pink curtains and bedspread, and pink was hands-down my favorite color in Kindergarten, not much else materialized in that realm. For the most part, I was never one to host tea parties for my Care Bears, nor did I ever want traditional dolls or long to twirl around in poofy skirts just for fun (the exception being when I would get to wear awesome, poofy skirts for dance costumes or dress up in my sister’s old ballet dresses). As far as Disney movies went, my favorites have always been non-princess movies (Pinocchio and Lady and the Tramp). Go figure. In reflecting upon my childhood, I’ve often wondered if my parents’ divorce when I was five had anything to do with the silencing of my inner Snow White. I mean, five-years-old is prime princess phase time. I’ve always had a great, close relationship with my dad, but sometimes I wonder if something subliminal happened at that point. It doesn’t really make sense for a little girl to dream of a prince on a white horse coming to whisk her away in a pretty dress and make everything better when the reality of marriage not always ending in “happily ever after” is staring at her cold in the face.
On the tangent of princesses, I have often seen this sentiment of girly perfection carried over into expectations of Christian women. Just pick up any book on relationships, understanding women (yes, some people attempt such risky endeavors), or look on the nightstand of most female freshman at Northwestern, and you’ll find plenty of kindling on the matter. Yes, men and women are definitely wired differently which is a gift and something I’m thankful for, but I don’t think we should pigeon-hole ourselves into these neat, little categories of “warrior man” and “princess woman”, and I think God’s a bit more creative than that. I mean, it’s ridiculous to expect every man to love deer hunting, American football and fixing cars, but why is it expected that all little girls are the same? I remember reading Captivating a few years back, and it had a lot of truth in it and a lot that I could relate to. At the same time, I look around me, and so often there’s this unspoken impression that I have to be this 1950’s housewife who wants seven children and does all the “right” Christian, womanly duties to be considered Godly.
Let me just add here that I do acknowledge the generalizations made in such books as Wild at Heart and Captivating. Men, regardless of interests or pastimes, do enjoy a good adventure and pursuit and women do have an inward wiring for romance and being pursued. I’m just saying that how that will be expressed from man-to-man or woman-to-woman will vary.
With that said, I’m not a 21st-century Betty Crocker. I don’t particularly like cooking, nor do I find emotional satiety in baking. I hated sewing class in 8th grade. I wear skirts and dresses only when mandated (weddings and the like) although that is slowly changing. I recently wore a skirt every day for a week, and I’ll admit that I was a little sad when I wore jeans again. I’m definitely not a tomboy, though. I grew up loving My Little Ponies and Rainbow Brite, and I took dance classes (including ballet) for 10 years. I am terrified of creepy-crawly bugs, I own a jewelry box along with soft purple sweaters, and I do enjoy an occasional chick-flick surrounded by my close friends and good chocolate.
So here’s where I wonder (rhetorically)...Do I have to fit some unattainable, cookie-cutter, model of what it means to be a Christian woman? Am I supposed to embrace this “inner Disney princess” that I’m pretty sure has gone on a 20-year wild goose chase? Do I have to be so sweet 24/7 that I ooze pixie sticks out my pores? Does hospitality have to be my highest score on a spiritual gifts inventory test? Despite the fact that I’m wired pretty strongly as a reflective and reserved introvert, sometimes I ponder if you’ll still consider me lovely and beautiful if I’m witty and sarcastic at times or if you’ll think me unladylike if I jump up and down and yell at the screen like a maniac when the Vikings are on. Will you think I’m a weirdo if I insert random, Russian words into everyday conversation? I say I ask these things rhetorically because I know deep down that it’s ridiculous to think I have to compromise who I am or be someone I’m not to be accepted by others. After all, haven’t we been spoon-fed this stuff from Mr. Rogers since we were pre-schoolers?
In closing, (I know, you’re asking “IS there an end to this post?) I once read a piece of flair on a friend’s Facebook page that said, “All I want is a guy who knows my flaws and struggles that come with loving me and still thinks I’m worth the trouble!” I think a lot of women would agree with this, and I’d expect a lot of guys would say the same in what they’re looking for in a woman. Nobody wants to be put in compartmentalized boxes of expectations but to be accepted for who they are, warts and all. As I’ve heard it said, “What else do we want, each one of us, except to love and be loved?” Whoever you are, future husband, I want you to know that I have more than my fair share of quirks, flaws and struggles. I’m a work in progress, and after living with 31 people over the last seven years, I’m convinced everyone, even those who would love to don a paper mask that they have it all together, have their own issues and emotional baggage to claim. The last thing I want you to feel is that you have to be this unrealistic knight in shining armor on a white horse. Have a goofy sense of humor, embrace your inner Star Trek junkie, have a never-ending quest of finding the perfect Swedish cuisine to be shared by candlelight (as long as it’s not lutefisk). It doesn’t really matter. Let’s just be human and do this crazy thing called “life” together because living like gender textbook robots and greeting card princesses whisks all the fun out of life.
Just doing life with you, the mundane day-to-day, and still finding a way to laugh about it
Getting rooted in a solid church with you
Always knowing who my date will be for events
Not feeling awkward talking about the future, because I won't have to guess whether or not you want me to be in it with you
Not having to be my own breadwinner/handyman/bug-exterminator. I will GLADLY hand those responsibilities over to you!! :D
Traveling with you, taking tons of photos, eating lots of food, meeting lots of people, forbearing lots of travel mishaps, and coming home with gazillions of stories
Making a home with you, making it a unique, fun and relaxing place to be, and inviting our friends over all the time
Raising ridiculous hoodlum children with you, and teaching them to love the Lord and love others
Dancing in the kitchen. This is a must.
Swooning as you play guitar and/or sing (please tell me you can do at least one of these things! I don't care if you're fantastic at it or not!)
Going through crazy life experiences with you that will make for very good stories that we'll be telling people for the rest of our lives
Rolling my eyes when you intentionally (OR unintentionally) act ridiculous... but failing miserably at holding back my huge grin that shows I secretly LOVE those moments!
So there has been quite a bit posted on our little blog site. It all has been witty, fun, and very interesting to read but above all it is important to keep perspective of the most pertinent factor. Thus...
Dear Future Husband, Please don't show up before you are supposed to. yours, Sue
"Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves." - Albert Einstein
None of this quick peck nonsense. Please don't kiss me unless you mean it.*
And I really, REALLY hope you mean it every morning before you leave for work, every evening when you come home, and every night before drifting off to sleep.
...And any other times you feel like it in between. :)
* For this reason, i will be wary of kissing you until I know for certain you're going to stick around for the long haul -- until we're engaged, at least. Please don't take offense, and please respect me by not pushing the issue - it's for my own emotional health. Besides... we will have all the time in the world to work on that later. ;) And you, my husband, can feel proud and rest easy, knowing that my lips have never touched another man.
I really like adventure, spontaneity, mystery and finding wonder in the little things, it doesn't have to be elaborate.
Just a late night trip to the park, to wade in the cool shiny lake on a late summer night or to stand and stare at the stars from the platform of a playground or enjoy a late night barefoot stroll down the street with old friends under the looming sounds of an approaching thunderstorm.
Just the small things to help me remember that not everything in life is as it seems, places that are full of screaming children and passing cars become peaceful sanctuaries that provide just a little bit of adventure as you anxiously wait for the cop car to come around the corner and tell you that you are not allowed in the park after dark.
So honey, remember to take time to appreciate the wonder in the small things, to be adventurous, to not get caught up in the in the repetitious routine of daily life, but to appreciate each moment that we have together and to spend sometime barefoot on a beach in the dark, with me.
