Kindergarten Round Up

This post is only partly about kindergarten round-up. It's mostly about what it means to show up.

The morning of Friday, April 10th, dawned bright and clear. This was the day my son had been waiting for for MONTHS. Every day he would wake up and say, "Mommy, is today kindergarten round up?" and I would say, "No, son, not until April 10th." And he would say, "How many days Mommy?"

Every.
Single.
Day.

So when it finally came, we were excited. Actually, excited is an understatement.

 

This is his face as we prepared to pull out of the driveway that morning. If you've followed me for long, you know my son does not take good pictures. He hates them and does not smile. Guess how long it took me to get this one? Yup - one take. The boy didn't stop smiling all day.

 

I had arranged to leave school early enough to take Charlie to lunch. We went to Red Robbin, which he did not understand. Food was not important. Why are we WAITING? he asked. This is taking FOREVER! he said. Finally, and even though we were half an hour early, we went to kindergarten round-up.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't for the teachers to whisk my boy off and send me to the gym. I was a little nervous when he left me, but not him! He posed for one more picture, and he was off!

 Now, I need to explain that I brought my mother along with me. I did this for a few reasons. 1) She listens much better than I do. I tend to get caught up in things like looking at the principal's fingernails and wondering if they are real or if they are press-ons or if she goes to a nail salon and does that filler thing. I tend to hear a phrase and think of better ways to word it. I tend to start to count the ceiling tiles and then remember that ceiling tiles don't matter and what matters is what is coming out of the mouth of the person who is up front talking. My mother, bless her, does not have this problem. 2) My husband was unable to come. And when I say unable, I mean he was golfing in Oklahoma with my dad, my brother, and my uncles. It was a fundraiser for my cousin's volleyball team and it was a really cool, relational opportunity for him to get to spend some time with my family. I was happy to send him. Really.

Back to the gym. We sat at a table and were joined shortly by two women. We made nervous small talk and eventually got around to introducing ourselves. I introduced my mother and felt the need to explain why I brought her. I said something like, "I brought my mom because my husband couldn't come. He's golfing." I'm not sure I needed to say any of this, but as soon as it was out my mouth, I wished I hadn't said the last part. It made my hard-working, very loving and excellent father-husband sound terrible. Go golfing instead of going to your kid's kindergarten round-up?

I felt the need to elaborate.

"He's really a great dad, though. This was just on the schedule and it's in Oklahoma, and it was going to be awkward to cancel, so, well, you know."

"Well," said the lady at the end of the table, "He's doing better than my husband. He left when my son was two."

"And yours did better than mine," said the woman across from me. "Mine left when my son was 6 months old."

You know how when people are passed out, someone will throw a bucket of cold water on them and they suddenly snap right up? That's how I felt at that moment. The men in my life are reliable. My dad. My grandpa. My uncles. My brother. My cousins. My husband. Even my friends. They have always shown up. I listened to these women continue to talk about how their ex had neglected to be a husband to them and a father to their sons. I listened to them lament the absence of a strong, upright male presence in the lives of their sons. I listened to them talk about how hard it was to do ALL OF IT by themselves. I don't know if I had ever really thought about what that would be like until that moment. Don't get me wrong - I had thought about it. I frequently thought about it when my husband was working long hours and he hadn't seen the kids in three days and I was doing pick up and drop off and meals and baths and bedtimes and teeth-brushing and butt-wiping and all of that by myself. I thought, This is what it's like to be a single mom. But I was wrong. Being a single mom would be so much worse. The emotional toll - the weight of all the decisions, not having anyone else to talk to, feeling like you are a failure and not having someone to pull you back up to your feet - I simply can't imagine it.

And I kept thinking about it, even as the counselor, the secretary, the teachers, the librarian, the school nurse, the bus driver, the speech path lady, and the principal got up to talk. I thought about it as I was dismissed from the gym and went to gather my ecstatic 5 year old, who couldn't wait to show me all the things he had made and tell me all the places he had been. I thought about it as I picked up my daughter and drove home, as I prepared dinner, as I put the kids to bed by myself, knowing that my husband would walk through the door before I went to sleep. I wondered why my husband showed up and theirs didn't. I wondered why my kids have a dad and theirs don't. And I was thankful for the millionth time that my husband loves God and me and our son and our daughter. I don't have to worry about him showing up. He will show up for me and for them and for us because he loves us and he wants us and he doesn't know any other way.

I wrestle with that question - that tension. Why do hard, terrible things happen to some people and for others it's smooth sailing? I don't know. All I really know that I am very, very grateful to have dependable men in my life. Particularly my husband, who always always always shows up.

15 Years

Mmmm...I started this post back in January and just realized I didn't finish it. So...it's almost two months late because life has been SO STINKING BUSY lately. But better late than never, right?

January 25, 2015 marked the 15 year anniversary of my first date with this guy:

And recently, on Facebook, I came across the following survey, which I did back when surveys were cool on Facebook. It was back before we had kids (which feels a lifetime ago...), so in honor of year 15, I am posting it. If the answers have changed, they are in boldface next to it. I definitely had fun reading it, though I don't know if you will!

♥ How long have you been together?
Together? Just over 9 years. Married? It will be 5 years in June. 15 years together, 11 married

♥ How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We probably met in the nursery at church when we were two, but we became hang-out-with-each-other friends in early high school and started dating when we were sophomores.

♥ Who asked who out?
(I'd just like to point out that this question is grammatically incorrect...in place of the second who, there should be a "whom" because we are referring to the object of the sentence, not the subject. The subject of the sentence is the first "who" which is, in fact, correct. And if he's reading this, I just put my husband to sleep.) Well he emailed me to say he was interested, but I was the one who finally brought it up in conversation. He did take that opportunity to actually ask me out, though, so I suppose credit must be given to him.

♥ How old are each of you?
He's 25 and I will be 25 in April 31/30

♥ Whose family do you see the most?
Um...probably his side My side

♥ Do you have any children together?
Not yet Two

♥ What about pets? Names?
No, no

♥ Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Currently? Having only one income

♥ Did you go to the same school?
Different elementary schools, but same middle and high school, and same college for a few years.

♥ Are you from the same home town?
Yes

♥ Who is the smartest?
Well, I used to think me by virtue of the fact that I scored one point higher on my ACT. I have since come to the somewhat difficult realization that he is more intelligent by leaps and bounds, though he never makes me feel that way.

♥ Who is the most sensitive?
Depends on what we're talking about...but generally me. Me 9 times out of 10.

♥ Where is your shared favorite restaurant:
Encore, probably Blind Tiger, but only because we don't live in Lawrence anymore

♥ Who has the craziest exes?
We started dating when we were 15, so we really don't have exes.

♥ Who has the worst temper?
Neither of us have tempers, but I guess I would say me. Rick has been angry exactly 6 times in the 9 years we've been together. 7 times

♥ Who does the cooking?
We both do. Me

♥ Who is more social?
Who talks more? Me. Who wants to go out and be with people more? Rick. Preach.

♥ Who is the neat-freak?
Used to be me, but it's gotten pretty equal. He's more of a neat-freak than me.

♥ Who is the more stubborn?
I win, hands down True dat.

♥ Who hogs the bed?
Neither

♥ Who wakes up earlier?
That's funny... He does now!

♥ Where was your first date?
Chili's on his 16th birthday. It was pretty sweet...he came and picked me up, since he could drive without an adult in the car. I ate chicken fingers with ketchup, as always, and Rick told me it was weird, which he has repeated every time I've eaten chicken and ketchup together in his presence since that day.

♥ Who has the bigger family?
Um...me.

♥ Do you get flowers often?
No, but not getting them often makes getting them much more special.

♥ How do you spend the holidays?
We usually try to split up time between his family and mine.

♥ Who is more jealous?
Jealous? Of what??

♥ Who eats more?
This is a weird question. I think we eat about the same, though I have a tendency to eat more frequently than he.

♥ Who does the laundry?
I would say me, but that would be a lie. I always start a load and forget about it...so he's pretty much taken over the laundry. I hang it up and stuff, though... I only do it if I have to. Laundry is his thing.

♥ Who’s better with the computer?
He's better with hardware stuff, you know like cords and printers and stuff, but I'm better with software programs, like Excel and PowerPoint. He is way better at both.

♥ Who drives when you are together?
Until about a year ago, I drove my car and he drove his car, I think because that's the way we did it when we were dating. A year ago, we purchased our first vehicle together, and now he usually drives. He always drives. He has a complex.

What? No question about how awesome my spouse is? Okay...I'll just add it in. He is my hero. He's the fuel that keeps me going, and knowing that he is happy makes me happy, even (and perhaps especially) in moments of unhappiness. He is the best there is. Pretty much.

Love Note from an Engineer

The new girl I teach with on my team is adorable.  And she happened to find a note on her desk from her husband, who slipped in to leave it for her.  It said simply, "I love you."

Awwww.

I told her that was the most adorable thing I'd ever seen.  I told her about how, when we were in high school, I told Rick he didn't write me enough stuff.  I said I wanted to need a box to store it in, there was so much stuff.  I told her that for our anniversary that year, he got me a box.  An EMPTY box.  She laughed.  I understand why.  It's funny.

Last week, I got a new phone.  A NEW PHONE.  Can we please have a moment for my old phone?

Yeap.  That is what I was dealing with. Rick was able to replace the screen with one of his old ones, but still.  It was so slow and had no room for anything extra, like music.  It was only really good for, well, talking on the phone.  So, when the time came, we decided to get me a new phone.  I told my kids at school that I got a new phone, and they were like, "So you don't have the one with the curved back anymore?" Why no, no I do not. I have a phone that is as nice as yours.  Even though you are 12 and I'm 30.  But whatevs...that's a topic for another day...

Andohhhhhmyyyyyygooooooodnesssssssss.

It is amazing.  It's so fast, and so sleek, and so sharp! I mean, look at this thing:

So, obviously, we needed to get me a case.  I have cracked my screens one too many times for us to take any risks here.  So Rick got online and found two Otterboxes for me to choose from.  One was kind of chunky, kind of plain, and very affordable.  The other was really thin, super cute, and too expensive.  I said to go with the cheaper one.  However, this is what came in the mail:

The thin, super cute, expensive one.  When I told my fellow teacher next door, her response was: "That right there is a love note from an engineer."  I thought about that all day.  She's totally right.  It is absolutely a love note from my engineer, and every single time I get my phone out, I think of that.

Thanks, Babe.

The Surprise...OMG

For weeks now, my husband has been telling me to save the weekend at the end of Spring Break for something.  He refused any and all details, except for the fact that we would be going sans kids.  Since it was only a few days, I was fairly certain we were heading to KC.

And I was right.  Friday afternoon, we had lunch with the kids and headed out.  We stopped at:

We are so cheap - even with money to spend (Rick saved all his birthday money) we left empty-handed.  Well, actually, I spent $13 on two shirts at LOFT, so I guess we weren't completely empty-handed.

Then we headed to the Intercontinental Hotel in KC.  You had to use your key card to get the elevator to go up to our floor where we had access to an exclusive "lounge" complete with all the food and drinks we wanted and a great view of the plaza.  And, a HUGE TV perfect for watching basketball!

I really thought this was the extent of the surprise - a nice, fancy hotel, just the two of us...but no.  It turns out, there was more.

Saturday evening Rick said we needed to eat early.  On the advice of the concierge and a conversation we overheard in the lounge, we chose:

I had never heard of this restaurant, but the description said "southern food," so Rick was sold already.  It was a nice little place with a casual atmosphere.  When got the menus, Rick was like, "I want to eat everything on this menu."  We ordered Asian Pig Wings:

I ate two bites of one.  He ate the rest.  Enough for a meal.

He ordered Mac & Cheese with burnt ends.  I ordered Chicken & Waffles, mainly because I was curious.  I wish I had gotten pics.  I ate a plain waffle and called it good.  Rick ate one of my enormous pieces of chicken wings and all of his burnt end mac & cheese.  When they brought the check, they brought it out in a book, and inside the book where the check was, people had written comments about their meals.  Here is what my husband wrote:

I told him I hoped he still felt that way in a few hours.

From there, we took a cab we walked back to the hotel because Rick forgot his wallet.  Then we took a cab to the Midland Theater where THEY WERE HOSTING THE SING OFF: LIVE!

O.
M.
G.

I didn't even know this was a thing.  I knew I loved the show, but I never imagined there would be a touring show.  I was so. stinking. excited.

Us outside the theater, before the show

I'm going to try to outline the show without getting too nerdy.  There were four groups: The Cat's Pajamas, the Filharmonic, Voice Play and Home Free.  They were all awesome.  My personal favorite was Voice Play, which was the only group with a chick (and a chick with pipes, y'all).  The show opened with everyone onstage singing together, and then they took turns on stage.  I think my least favorite group was the one everyone seemed to be most excited about, and that was Home Free.  Not being a fan of country music myself, it follows that I wasn't a huge fan of their country style.  But they were entertaining, and obviously ridiculously talented.

But the best part of the show, hands down, was the encore.  They came back out, all of them, without mics.  That was a first for the show, but if you really want to get technical, THAT is true a capella - nothing but naked voices.

And they sang "Hallelujah."

Which happens to be one of my most favorite goose-bump songs.

I tried in vain to find a Youtube version worthy of mentioning in the same breath.  It doesn't exist.  So I will try to describe it with words: first, the audience had to shut up to hear.  Instead of whoo-hooing at every stinking solo (SO irritating), they kept quiet in order to hear what was happening on stage.  And oh, what was happening on stage.  They started singing, and it was like musical butter.  Ice cream.  Red velvet cake.  It was so smooth and rich you just wanted to drop right inside of it.  I wanted it to last forever.  For. Ev. Ver.  Goose bumps, tears, the works.

Props, props, props to my husband, who knows me better than I know myself.  I never would have imagined this, but it was so fun and so, so perfect.  And it was clear that he put so much thought and careful planning into this trip.  What a gift.

It was a wonderful way to celebrate Valentine's Day/Turning 30/Our 10 Year Anniversary.

Getting Married Young

I probably have at least a dozen half-written blog posts in my Blogger.  I start off great and then, I don't know, get busy or bored with the topic.  This is one of the ones I started long ago and decided to finish up this morning.

Junior Year? Ish?

Lindsey sent me a link to this post about the benefits of getting married young, wanting my thoughts.  Since my husband and I were both 20 when we married, I qualify as someone who got married young. And I love that fact. I love that we grew up together. I love that he was my first date, my first kiss, my first and only boyfriend.  I love that we went through high school and college together.  I love that he proposed to me when we were 19, and we married the next summer.  I love that I have watched him go from a tall, shy, and sometimes awkward teenager to a confident, intelligent, caring man, husband, and father.  There is something magical about that transformation, and I am glad to have been a part of it. 

Prom

However, I take a bit of issue with this article.  I don't think it's particularly well-written (SNOB ALERT), and, on behalf of all people who have a wonderful romantic love story, I kind of resent the fact that she implied with the last "perk" that those who don't get married young do not have a great love story.  I know lots of great ones that happened later in life.  One of them was my choir teacher in high school, who went to a costume party dressed as Sylvester and met his future wife, a woman in her 30s, who was dressed as Tweety Bird.  Romance has nothing to do with your age.  I also think it would behoove this author to take a look at the other side - all the things that suck about getting married early:

Wedding - June 19, 2004

1. Money. Um...you have none.  And (generally speaking) you have less working knowledge of money.  You have not had enough time to manage money-making on your own, and when you combine forces with someone who has the same problem, it just makes things that more difficult.  Oh, if I could only have another shot at this one...
2. School. You aren't done with it.  And you have to work (in my case, three jobs) to support yourselves.  Enough said.
3. Stuff. You have no stuff, so you register, and because you have no experience because you've always lived with your parents or in the dorms, you have no stinking clue what to register for.  I registered for cheap crap because I didn't want to offend anyone.  I walked around the store like, "Oh, that's cool," and used the gun with nearly no discrimination.  If I had been older and wiser, I would have gone for less quantity and more quality.
4. People. People think and say you are too young to be married (though I must say, in true teenager fashion, that only made me want to do it more).
5. Identity. You need to learn how to be you on your own before you can be you with someone else.

I love my story and wouldn't change it even given the opportunity, but my goodness, it was hard.  That said,

*Soap Box*
I certainly do not advocate this approach with others, and definitely won't with my own children.  I truly believe we are the exception to the rule, and we have been so so blessed.  We have been able to work through these issues and more by the grace of God only.  But really, the bottom line is that, no matter when you got married, no matter how much you love each other, no matter how "right" for each other you are, marriage is work.

I remember hearing this when I was young and thinking, "How unromantic.  I hope that's never us."  Oh, the naivete.  I simply couldn't imagine a time when I wasn't utterly head-over-heels, roses and rainbows, the-sun-shines-out-of-his-every-orifice in-love with the boy.  But I learned pretty quickly that those moments are not only possible, they are guaranteed.

But you know what the secret to a happy marriage is?  Loving the other person more than you love yourself.  In short, loving like Jesus, which is really the secret to a happy life, too, right?

*End Soap Box*

12 Days of Reflection - #9 FPU

 Decision #9 - Enrolling in the Financial Peace University class at church.

I have talked about this several times, but I cannot get over what a huge impact this one little decision has had on our finances, our marriage, and our lives, really.  It might seem dramatic to say it that way, but it's so true.  We have learned so much in these past few months, and not just about money.  I think we will look back in 20 years and call this a turning point for our family.  Details here.

12 Days of Reflection: #6 - The Job

 On June 10th, 2013, my husband started his new job. (Details on how he got it here and here.)

And there was much rejoicing.

He's been there 6 months.  They love him (he is pretty loveable) and he's already made himself an asset to the company.  Like most engineers, he is painfully detailed and organized, extremely efficient, and very knowledgeable.  But unlike most engineers, he is very much a people-person.  He has become the person his team goes to for help, whether it be software (he's one of the only folks on his team who knows one of the architect programs), or just a hand with a project.  They have to log their time according to project, and one day he told me he spent a total of five of his eight hours helping people.  That is the kind of thing that would frustrate my obsession with being productive, but he is patient and a good teacher.  He also has a way of making people feel at ease, a gift I think he inherited from his grandpa Harold.

The commute can be rough and the hours long, but ultimately, this is definitely one of the best decisions of 2013.

Proud wife, here.

Anniversary :)

Deal-Breakers: Marriage

Last weekend we had a church event and I ended up at a table with an old friend (old like we went to preschool together).  She was there with her husband.  I hadn't really gotten to talk to her since before her wedding a few years ago.  Somehow we got on the subject of pets, and she cast her husband a meaning-filled dirty look.  Then she looked at me and said something like, "I love him, but he once killed a cat.  I found out about it before our wedding and it was almost a deal-breaker."  And then the two of them launched into (conflicting) accounts of what happened.  Because they were conflicting, I'm not sure what actually went down, but the gist was that he was working maintenance at a summer camp and part of his job was to keep pests out of the compound.  Apparently, there was a stray cat who kept moseying in.  So he killed it.  It was part of his job.  (It should be noted that he is a middle school science teacher.  Knowing many myself, I know that science teachers understand the circle of life and just aren't that worked up in general about animal deaths.  Ours keep dead animals in the freezer to feed to their class pets.  You know.)  She was horrified.  According to her it nearly caused them to break up.  (For the record, I think the world is probably better off with one less cat.  Just saying.)

This conversation has been on my mind since then 1) because it was funny and 2) because it reminded me of how marriage is a meshing of all your lives, not just from the moment of marriage on, or even the moment you met on.  You marry that person's past, family, likes and dislikes - everything about them.  And working through them is all about love and grace.  (*It should be noted that I struggle with this part.  Love and grace is rarely never my first reaction.  But I'm working on it.)

We are beyond blessed for many reasons, but one of them is that we entered marriage with very little baggage.  We started dating when I was fifteen.  We were each other's first and only, and thankfully, we were smart, mature, responsible teenage kids.  We did not go out and party.  We did not have sex.  We did not make ridiculous financial decisions that had us in negative numbers from the start.  Our baggage has been small things, like adjusting to different family practices, for instance.  My family is always the first to leave.  We like to get home early and get to bed early.  His family is one of the last to leave.  They like to be there until the party shuts down.  As a result, I am always wanting to leave early and he is always wanting to stay late.  (Kids cured that, though! Now we always leave early!)  My family regularly discusses life goals, spirituality, struggles, and we often shed tears in front of the other.  My husband did not grow up like this and I think it still weirds him out a little when it happens.  But he has the love and grace thing down.  He understand that this is how we relate to and support each other, and while it isn't his thing, he loves and affirms us anyway.

We have nothing like a friend of mine who married a man with a (crazy) ex-wife and two kids.  Or another friend whose husband had so much debt when they got married that now, eight years later, they are still struggling to pay it off, and every financial decision they make has to be viewed through the lens of those bad financial choices.  I admire these women greatly for their abilities to extend love and grace and absorb these problems into their marriage as problems, not road-blocks or "deal-breakers."

But I am thankful that God didn't call me to do it. :)

13 Years Ago Today...

I was fifteen - a sophomore in high school - and I went on a date that changed my life.

 It was highly anticipated.  Friends had been telling me for weeks that Rick had a crush on me, but being so shy, he had never actually talked to me about it.  He sent me an email telling me he was interested in asking me out, and was I interested back, but even after I responded in the affirmative, he was quiet.  We had geometry and a music class together, in addition to all our youth group activities, but still, nothing.

Probably our first ever picture together - first grade Sunday school party at Gage Park.  He has a patch on his eye and I'm the one with the cool cat shirt.

Finally, on January 24th, 2000, after weeks of this sort of behavior, we ended up walking to class together.  I decided to help him out.  It went something like this:

Me: "Hey, did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"
Him: "Yeah, I, uh, I was going to ask you if you wanted to have dinner tomorrow night.  I'm sixteen tomorrow, so I can drive.  I can come pick you up." (insert cool-guy grin here)
Me: "Sounds good."
Him: "Cool.  I'll pick you up at 6:00."
Me: "Sounds good."

Fast-forward to 5:45 the next night - Tuesday, January 25th, 2000 - and I was home alone.  I'm not sure where everyone else was, but I had changed my outfit several times, applied more make-up than I ever would have normally, and was waiting calmly for 6:00 to arrive.

Bus ride to a summer mission trip the summer after our first date.

He pulled into the driveway at 5:59 and knocked on the door promptly at 6:00.  We went to Chili's and sat in the 2nd booth on the left by the bathrooms.  We ordered chips, salsa, and ranch, and then I ordered chicken crispers and dipped them in ketchup, and he made fun of me for it for the first of many, many times.  He told me he really liked me, that he was serious about starting a relationship the right way, and then he asked me if I would like to be his girlfriend.

Enter thirteen years of joys, trials, chaos, hilarity, schools, travels, hardships, and love.  Enter high school graduation, a traumatic breakup (and reunion a mere week later), and going to college.  Enter proposal, what felt like a FOREVER long engagement, and a beautiful wedding.  Enter two cities, three apartments, one rental, and one house.  And enter two, beautiful, perfect children.

Not sure when this was...junior year?

People often tell me how lucky I am to have found my soul mate as a fifteen-year-old.  I disagree.  Not about the soul mate part, but about the luck part.  Luck has had no part this story.  Our marriage, though not perfect by any stretch, is based firmly on the belief that God planned us for each other and has given us an incredible gift in the other.  And even though we may at times get frustrated with each other, we are committed to each other and our marriage.

So happy 29th birthday and happy 13th anniversary to the love of my life.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

Spring before we got engaged.

Nightmare

I had a terrible dream last night.  I think it was the worst one I've ever had.  I'm not prone to nightmares, but this one was awful.  I dreamed that Rick was cheating on me.  It was so real - I remember which friend called me to tell me, what she said, how her voice sounded.  I remember Rick's face when I confronted him about it, and I remember the things I thought and the way I felt.  I remember what I said and what he said, and how my life felt like it was crumbling to pieces around me.

Then the phone rang, waking me up.  It was 7:30 AM and it was my mom, telling me she couldn't come over this morning because she thought she might have a cold and didn't want to give it to Lucy.  I held it together long enough to get through the phone call, and then I sobbed.  Wept.  Shoulders shaking, involuntary throat noises, gushing tears - the works.

Rick was downstairs and by the time I got to him I was in such a state that he was alarmed.  He said later that he thought something had happened to one of the kids.  It took me a while to get the story out, but once I did, he wrapped his arms around me, held me close, reminded me it was a dream, and assured me that he would never do anything like that.  I already knew this, of course, but the dream had felt so real.  So real.

This dream reminded me of how precious my marriage is.  My relationship with my husband is so very important.  After thirteen years together - eight of them married years - we have a pretty good understanding of the other.  But if we don't continue to work at it - if we don't make it a priority, things will start to slip and slide, perhaps unnoticed at first, and eventually they will start to unravel.  I have watched this happen in the marriages of several friends, and it has further convinced me that marriage needs to be protected at all costs.  This has been - without doubt - the most difficult three months of our relationship, but we are both committed to God, to each other, and to our family.  So though that dream had me running scared for a few minutes, I know I am safe, that my marriage is duly protected, and that I have nothing to fear.

Good thing, because getting cheated on would really suck.