We’re coming up to our 7th wedding anniversary later this year. I never, ever imagined that this was a photo I would one day be taking. I hoped. But you just never know how things will turn out. I know that the 7th year is one where folks like to joke about the “Seven year itch” and I’ve been, literally, thinking about how I can write about this. I have 5 months to figure that out yet.

I got really upset with The Media and such after I got married because what I thought I was getting myself into was actually nothing like what I just got myself into … in the best way possible. I don’t know. Marriage is hard. I’ve written about that before. It’s tiring and I can totally see why people grow apart and get divorced. Why turning into roommates is sometimes the best option for survival. I get it.

But I want nothing to do with it.

My entire world is in that photo – and everything it says about how my life really turned out is something called Grace. Here’s where I wildly abandon myself and just write this, out loud. By the Grace of God, I am here today. I am where I am, I am happy. I did nothing important to get here except listen. And firmly plant my feet in cement and throw tantrums. I was sought after, my heart was yearned for.

… You know that cat and mouse game of dating? And the wild excitement of the first touch – on the small of your back or your knee? Like firecrackers were shot up through your body and you’re eyebrows are on fire?

Yea, he still does that to me.

Bring it on, Seven Year Itch.

I’ve been holding this in all week because protecting my young is kind of a fierce battle inside of me. I am more aware of my surroundings when the Male is absent because of over night travel. Which is why I haven’t written about him being gone until today, because he is now home. And if you try to come to my doorstep, I’ll be there – you bet, but so will he and that’s just safer.

He left on a jet-plane on the international day of awesome and my daughter and I were definitely partaking in the Awesome of the day but couldn’t tell you about it until now.

When I was younger my family traveled A Lot. My dad was, still is, a commercial pilot so we went places – always on stand by … and always with the whole fam. All six of us. I can’t imagine maneuvering airports with 4 children. If I had to, I would do it, I know I could, but electively? OH HELL NO.

Point is, since we were traveling stand by and my mom was smart, she knew she’d need something to keep all of us busy so we weren’t bothering her with “I’m hungry!” or “I’m bored” all day, sometimes all night. So she put her genius on and made each of us our own bag for traveling. It was usually a brown lunch sack filled with home made treats, some candy and something we could do (those puzzles you push around with your thumbs? Oh yea.). She continues to do this for grandchildren who travel and she’s done it for us as grown children on occasion.

I now do this for my family when we travel. And my daughter and I did something a little different for Aaron for this trip.

We wrote him letters for while he was away.

Most of them were from our daughter – she wrote things like “I miss you!”, “Have a good day!”, “Have fun!”, “Come home now” and “We’re praying for you” all in her own handwriting – and then I would write a little something underneath her message – something to let him know we were thinking about him while he was away, that we were proud of him and all his hard work. That we loved and respected him and couldn’t wait to see him again.

You know. Flowers for a guy.

But there was one that was just from me. I bought it from this etsy shop about 2 years ago thinking I was going to give it to him some other time. Well, any way, I’m trying not to give details so let’s just say this was the right time.

So, our day of awesome stretched into a week of love for Aaron. And we do love him so much.

He’s kind of our favorite.

We went up north to The Parent’s cottage a few weeks ago and spent the time hanging out making donuts and marshmallows from scratch. YUM.

In order to eat those marshmallows we needed a fire. So I took it upon myself to lick the flame.

I may have paraded around giggling after the whole “I build fire!” thing, but it was fun … there’s a technique to building a fire – one with air flow and oxygen. It was good times.

Then we waited for the flame to die down and give us some coals in which to roast the marsh’s …

And our weekend was complete.

I was going to write this all out on paper but then I decided photos would so much easier to explain this. I’m going away tonight! Packing my bags and heading out! Just kidding. I am, however, going out for dinner…which cripples my lovely husband into buying pizza which we niether have the funds for right now nor can my children eat such food. So, I’m making him a step by step meal plan to feed himself and the kids a healthy, fulfilling meal at home tonight.

Pull up your sleeves, lets get in there!

Aaron … read this whole thing first. I know you. You’re going to want to know where things are before you start and then get frustrated. I love you.

First things first – pop the asparagus that I have in the water bath into the steamer (it’s all ready to go), discard the water from the water bath in the sink and set the pan aside – you don’t need either any more. Plug the steamer in and turn the dial to 20 min. You’re done with the asparagus until it’s ready to plate and eat.

Now turn the front right burner on – use this pan (no photo) to melt the butter. (only use about 3 or 4 tbs)

While the butter is melting (on medium heat) cut up the onions – use as much as you’d like … don’t dice them though – you’ll end up with a stir fry when all is said and done so you’ll want some substance to the onion other than taste.

Throw them into the pan and start sauteing them. While that’s happening - Drain the meat I have set out to defrost – pat it dry if possible (use a clean towel and then throw in the wash asap) when they’re relatively dry throw them on top of the onions – brown. Stir ‘em around, have fun.

While that’s getting going you can start to fry your potatoes (if you want them…)

I’d use 3 at most – wash them and cut them up … slices probably. And thin.

Add about 3 tbs butter to this pan and turn the left front burner on medium heat.

Fry those suckers up. Might need to add butter … you make the decision. Add salt and pepper as you see fit.

Insert the spices:

Do Not Use Them All! Smell them and decide for yourself – also … it doesn’t matter how much you use, start small – you can always add when you’re tasting it.

HEY GUESS WHAT!! GOOD THING YOU’RE READING THIS FIRST BECAUSE HERE’S WHERE I TELL YOU TO PRESEASON THE BEEF BEFORE ADDING IT TO THE PAN TO BROWN. Same rules apply, don’t use them all – smell and decide. Have fun.

Continuing on with the beef: here’s where the soy sauce comes in … when the beef is browned and looking yummy throw in some soy sauce – a couple shakes. Don’t over do it, it can over take the dish.

Then quickly add the Pineapple and Green Onions (in fridge).

This last step with the Soy Sauce, Pineapple and Green Onion should only last a couple minutes – maybe 3. You don’t want the pineapple to disintegrate. Just get it in there – stirred up and warm.

Taste Test it. Hopefully it doesn’t suck. Enjoy

As her parent I’m charged with raising a responsible and caring human being who does more good than bad in their life. If we wanted to boil it down to basics – that’s pretty much it. And you can see that through religious eyes or not, we happen to.

My parents are divorced and Jessica already grasps that messy triangle of a family tree. What she doesn’t understand is – if Grandpa and Grandma are like that – why can’t you (Me, Jodi, I) be?

My husbands parents are not divorced, so she sees marriage lasting a lifetime as much as she sees it not – and we, her parents, are married and plan to stay that way … but she still doesn’t get it.

Now, she’s 5. She doesn’t really have to get it yet. But when I get asked questions like “Why can’t daddy have a girlfriend?” then I know she MUST grasp this, whether she wants to or not.

In our house, there are no openings for Others in our marriage. Period. No negotiation or discussion, ever. I married one man, whom in returned married one woman. That’s how we did it. And because Jessica is my child, in my home, in this big wide world – she will see this through my eyes until she knows the difference of decision in her adult life.

I’m not talking about marriage as a whole right now, I do not want to talk about politics. I’m talking about MY marriage. MY family. MY daughter.

And why the hell she seems to think that Daddy needs to be allowed to love someone else?

Here’s where I talk about my marriage.

As said in the video our last calendar year was a total piece of shit. There are reasons we’re in counseling – most of them proactive to the very fact that we plan to stay married for our life time together. Some of them reactive to a horribly difficult year – one of growth in some manners, others of clear stunts and backward pedaling in other manners. Out of the 12 months of 2009 there was a total of 4 months that we did not have someone staying in our home, either on our couch, in a tent or for an extended period of time.

Having someone in my home has never been more stressful. Helping and having guests over is one of the things I love about being home, but last year it felt like I was constantly having something invade what little separation I had from the reminder that I am mostly alone.

Owning our own business is not a 9-5 situation. It’s a 24 hour a day job in this house, and even when it’s “my” time, it’s always Work’s time. And I am bitter and resentful. I know I sound like a brat and I will take it. Fuck, I’ll take “Princess” and then I’ll hand you a wonderful little reality check that is life as a married woman with small children inside 4 walls all day long.

No one tells me I’m valuable. I’m always hearing from my children how I’m doing it wrong, not doing it enough, making them angry or cry. When my husband comes home it’s my job to make him feel respected and I love making him feel important because I know he needs to feel that way. He needs it. It’s how he’s wired.

And then I get to listen to the bad days, the hard days – the big decisions and all the stress. I get the leftovers. And then I get asked why I didn’t have time to clean the house, or do the laundry. Why haven’t I called this person? Aren’t I organized? Can’t I do it?

What do you do? I get asked.

Honey, you might kiss ass all day long, but I wipe ‘em. And our children are happy and bathed and in clean beds. I made them breakfast, lunch and dinner, I cleaned the house 7 times in the span of 8 hours – all while listening to bickering and sometimes laughter. I daydream about affording help, a house cleaner … someone to keep things organized and tidy. Someone to give me a hand. I made your bed and folded your socks. I got the groceries you asked about.

I, I, I for You, You, You.

I feel out of balance in this life. Somewhere along the line I let myself say yes too many times and while I was saying yes, you were saying I’ll take it. All the while planning to give it back 110% but the ROI for the amount of time I’ve invested is emotional bankruptcy.

Problem is I was the teller who approved the transaction.

———————————————-

Alright, so everyone take a couple deep breaths. I have. It feels so much better. This is a very one-sided post today about how I’m personally struggling right now. So I’d like to give you some perspective as to how this is not a one-person fail. As in, my husbands job does suck time like a rabid vampire on the loose, but it does so much more than that.

It makes him happy. It provides for our family. It allows us to travel. It even excites me. I honestly think the real problem is that I am not working outside of the home – and where I thought that was what I wanted 5 years ago, my mind has changed. But I’m dealing with all kinds of guilt and hurt feelings (on my own) for changing my mind.

I have some SERIOUS hang ups, personally, about being allowed to change my mind this far into the game, but I know that if I do not gain clarity and ultimately conquer those hang ups it will be detrimental to them and myself. And I feel like a total failure for just admitting that.

I have some demons to fight and it feels like I’m fighting them alone, which breeds resentment. The current affairs of my life are in no way my husbands fault … but he’s offly easy to blame for them. Don’t let me do that.

So you know how sometimes you go through these big self changes and then inevitably something else has to give? You need time or a spot or a place that isn’t glaring your inner thoughts to the person right next to you. You need space. In your head, in your heart – your home. You need to be alone, to think and ponder. To question and then to answer.

Thats where I went for a while – inside. Inside myself. Most of the time I have absolutely no problem whatsoever putting everything on here and letting it go to the ends of the world if it so chooses. Or is someone googles what it costs to have a baby and they get my tirade of a rant instead. Either way … it ebbs and flows – my feelings about an online story in which I am the main character and my life is the plot.

I’ve pretty much decided that I just don’t know. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, I cannot predict that my plan will work or is working. I can only improve the parts of me that need improving – and that, my friends, I am doing with the most valuable people in my real life. My family. My husband. My kids. That is no longer part of this. Not right now.

So any way. How the heck are ya? I got myself a new hair cut and am feeling wonderful due to the blood sugar issues being tackled – and they are being tackled. Things are improving on a daily basis.

We also became a family who hikes together – which is lovely number 92 on my life list, photos coming one of these days.

After watching the food network for a bit Jessica has decided to become a chef in our home on a daily basis. The latest concoction was juice!!! She served it to us via wine glasses, she’s all about the sophistication. And, you guys, oh-my-golly there are days when I want to strangle the attitude out of this one, but seriously – she is the joy of my life. We rub each other like sand paper some days and it’s tiring and defeating, but at the end of every day she’s laying in her bed while we read Shell Silverstien poetry and she giggles at all the right words, laughs at the end of the silliest poems and then hugs me good night. DOES. NOT. GET. BETTER. THAN. THAT.

On the flip side of children – Oliver isn’t talking very much although he has discovered the wonderful world of voicing his opinion via the very popular word “No.” And he is as stubborn as they come, which we can gingerly thank me for. He is stubborn the way I am stubborn, and I admit this readily … it’s the worst kind. And it’s kind of ugly. Doesn’t matter that the kid is hungry, if it’s our suggestion that he can have GOLDFISH!!! he’ll very much look at you like you’ve grown growling dogs out of your ears and screech NO!! while he whips his head, or entire body, in the other direction entirely.

The differences between the girl and boy in our house could not be more pronounced. She’s got a fire under her butt and has attitude, but listens and reasons very well. VERY well. He’s got tar in his pants (that’s how stubborn he is) and is full of righteous indignation, does a fairly good job of listening, follows directions and has no reasoning skills WHATSOEVER. He is emotional to the tilt, there’s no “We don’t bite because it hurts” there’s always “We don’t bite…” and then lots of really big tears and LOUD noises. He’s devastated by our lack of admiration for his prowess as a young cheetah hunter in his jungle of a world.

However!! I am making damn sure that he loves me no matter what because now that I have a son, I have every kind of sympathy I lacked when I first got married to a first born – a first born son. Um!! Mother In Law, I love you and I love how much you love your son, who is now my husband and oh my goodness – the job you did at raising him, WAS SPECTACULAR. I hope I have a son half as amazing as the husband I have, although … (and we’re working on this) HE WILL HUG ME MORE, or his future wife will have me in a crumple hot mess at her doorstep begging for her to tell him I need to be hugged.

The end.

I’ve missed you.

I love my heads.

It’s kind of exciting because I get to see their faces and remember the warm days and happy memories we made.

I also got to remember a very fantastic weekend away with a friend.

And ice cream with the kids in the Gaslight Village … soooo good.

Plus a whole lotta other fun summer stuff …

Hi, my name is Jodi and I have a problem. With chairs. And actually, I think my husband has the problem. We have a hard time committing to a furniture purchase but we know we need something (!!) so we buy the chair. And only the chair. And then a year goes by and we’re ready for another furniture commitment, but you guessed it, we get scared and uncertain and only purchase the chair.

I would love to be joking in some way right now, but I just cleaned my house and had to maneuver past all 19 chairs, and there are more because I didn’t count the one in our bedroom – wanna know why? BECAUSE IT’S NOT FUNCTIONAL!! Totally forgot about that chair, just sitting there, being a chair all alone. I need to rid myself of this issue.

Do you want photos of this madness? Oh! I’ll make a music video. Or a confessional. Either way, allow me to introduce you to my chairs.

We have a chair problem. from Jodi Schaap on Vimeo.

Final count on the chairs in the house: 25. Twenty Five. There is one chair per year of my life in this house and that’s ridiculous. Although next week I’ll be having a birthday and beating THIS SYSTEM! Any way, the math of this problem is that we only use 24% of the available chair options in this house. And more than half of that 24% is in our dining room.

Yea. I told you we had issues.