Mama bear

Don't get too excited. I'm not pregnant. Fingers crossed not for a little while...

I'm discovering a very deep, very intense part of myself when it comes to my husband. I saw it on some level when the opposition to our decision to marry was in high gear.

Mama bear.

I find myself as a watchman on the wall, looking for potential dangers that threaten the future of our family or that attack my husband specifically.

I've noticed that there are alot of threats. Satan hates marriage. I believe that is because it is something holy, and it's designed to be representative of the relationship we get to have with Jesus in heaven.
I see things the enemy sends to tear him down as a man, emasculate him, and I hate those things. Words that others speak over him, curses and such, are an enemy to my marriage. The ones I have to hate the worst are the ones that my own tongue wants to throw in moments of frustration.

I've done pretty well overall, because I know words carry so much power. I've had some weak moments, but God has kept me in check.

I also have been challenged by one of his so called friends that I would really like to put my fist between his eyes. He's the kind of person that puts my husband on blast on social media, throwing his past mistakes out publicly for all to see. I don't understand my husband's loyalty to someone who speaks so hatefully to him and about him. I asked him today if they had hidden a body somewhere at some point together, because I would have totally ditched this guy by now.

So I walk a fine line on this issue. My husband is not my child, and he is not helpless. If I step in and try to fight his battles, I emasculate him. So I chime in only as a supportive presence in these conversations, then I back off and let him fight it on his own knowing that I'm in his corner.

With my family I made a choice that I am living with. I chose my man, and my relationship with my parents may never again be what it was. But that relationship would have changed anyway, just maybe not as much. I've grieved the loss of the closeness and trust that I enjoyed for so long, but I don't regret the decision I made. Some days are harder than others. I believe time will heal, but that season of being under their covering is over. We will have to build a new relationship, hopefully a more healthy one than before. I'm praying that the unhealthy aspects of our past relationship fall away during this time.

I've become very protective of this man that God gave me, and of the beautiful covenant growing us into one life. And I like it. It feels right.

I Do, but I thought for a couple of days that I Didn't

That is a long title. Could she have not realized that was the title line? Yes, I realized that was the title line, but I like long titles sometimes, ok?!?!

Anyway, the past week-ish, I've been watching for the confirmation from the Great State of Texas that I am recognized as a married woman. Every day, doorway man tells me that it's not here.

I can be kind of a pest. And after I pestered people for six months before the wedding about cakes and photos and music, and was just in general obnoxious, I've been keeping a low profile on the followup stuff.

But as I grew more anxious about the magic envelope of goodies I need to change my name, I finally decided to reach out to the minister who married us, my uncle.

I asked in the meekest way I knew how by email if there was anything I needed to do to make it legal. (READ: Did my parents beg you not to mail my marriage certificate? -Not really. He wouldn't do that. But I did want to know that it was mailed.) The response was that they gave it back to us. Aaaaaanh!!! We no got no marriage license!!!!

So this was the timeline.

Reception was winding down. We were really tired. I remembered we hadn't given the license to the minister, so we tracked it down and handed it over with the envelope. And we headed for the door where our guests were waiting to blow bubbles in our faces and shoot us with silly string. And right before we step outside, my sister hands my new husband an envelope. We take one more step into chaos and run to our car amid cheers and bell ringing and whatever to our car. We open the door of the car to possibly a hundred balloons and to shove an impossibly poofy dress into a Nissan Versa. And the mystery envelope was not seen or thought of again...

And then we went on our honeymoon, all the while thinking that someone else would be mailing the license and any day we would have confirmation that we are married.

Until yesterday.

So I panicked and turned the house upside down and shook it. No marriage license fell out of any crack. I'm thinking the whole time that I spent all this money and inconvenienced all these people, used the gifts and money people bought us, and I'm not even going to be married. The thirty days is almost up, and we haven't built up our stupid fund to pay a license fee again. We're less than a week from the deadline, and we're gonna have to get married again. Argghh!!!

The license showed up in a stack of mail!! We're mailing it tomorrow, and it will be legal and everything. Doorway man found it!

(Sidenote: Doorway man was not in trouble for losing it. I knew that I would not have done any better at keeping it at that particular moment.)

Looking good for his woman

Tonight, doorway man's dad wanted to take us out to dinner. I often complain that he wears his older, worn out clothes when we go out. Over the course of our relationship, I've bought him clothes appropriate for a night out of varying weather and occasion. Clothes are not his thing. Clothes are strictly utility in his world. They are to cover nakedness. If you are not naked, you are appropriate.

Tonight, he came into the living room in this outfit. He was beaming from ear to ear, with a look of confidence that he was going to really please me by dressing up. This look of innocent and pure desire to be everything I ever wanted in a man is why I love him.

But it was so funny...and awful. I immediately laughed and asked him if I could take his picture with tears of laughter flowing from my eyes. My love for him doubled with his look of confusion.

I softly through laughter told him he couldn't go out like that but I loved how much he wanted to please me and the look of innocence on his face will forever be etched on my heart.

Luckily, he has a tough skin and quickly could appreciate the humor in the situation. He agreed to let me post it on Facebook, probably more to check the consensus than anything. Facebook is the place to settle the unimportant debates, apparently.

I have a big job ahead of me training this man God gave me, and it will be lots of laughter and sweet moments like this one, I hope.

Baby Face

There has been an ongoing issue since before we were engaged that has sparked more drama and discord between us than any other issue. To shave or not to shave. That is the question.

Doorway man has very coarse facial hair. When he goes more than 24 hours without shaving, his beard is like a wire brush that chews my face off when he kisses me. Unfortunately, doorway man thinks that shaving once or twice a week should be sufficient. He says it's very irritating to his skin to shave, he usually gets really bad razor burn and cuts himself, so I know this is true.

During the period that young men learn to shave, my beloved taught himself because his dad was not involved in his life. So I also think this is a training issue.

Anyway, I started off using positive pressure to get him to shave more. I would kiss him a bunch and call him Baby Face, and tell him how much I loved his smooth face. Praise, praise, praise. Positive, positive, positive.

This did not work.

Next, I resorted to begging. I complained about my raw face and tried to reason that if he shaved more, it would get less irritating to him.

This also did not work.

Then I resorted to anger and hurt.

This obviously did not work.

I am now in the phase of trying to find answers to the problem. Last week I bought him a shaving kit with a badger brush and ceramic cup and soap, as well as a anti irritant creme lotion.

He finally used it after days and days of my relentless nagging. And he said it helped with the irritation. My next step will be to see if I can find someone to make sure he really knows how to do it properly and teach him better technique.

This might work.

I thought this was very insightful

http://m.tickld.com/x/100-wise-words-for-everyone-

The great debate of 4/30/14

My beloved used the word "ammonia" in reference to the illness last night, and I challenged him on it. He insisted it was a homonym to the word that is a cleaning solution. As is often the case, doorway man will not back down from a debate. He will die on his cross defending his position. It can be really funny, especially once you know that he knows he is wrong. At the point that he realized that he could not win this one on one battle, even without google, he called on the Ultimate Authority to settle the debate... His mom.

Lucky for me, the Ultimate Authority ruled that I was the winner of the debate. I'm pretty sure google would have supported my position if she hadn't, but I'm not sure even google carried the authority of my mother in law.

Thanks, Mary.