The Fair-Weather Wife

Back in 2009, a newspaper reporter emailed me from London. She wanted to talk to me about a blog post I had written for my husband’s blog, Please Feed the Animals, which I’d plainly titled, Unemployment and Marriage. She was working on a piece about how the current state of unemployment was effecting relationships and marriages. She had stumbled on my post and wanted to discuss.

So we discussed. Among other things, she asked me if I had ever considered divorcing my husband due to the strain of unemployment. My reply was, no. I hadn’t. I explained that this was my second marriage, and that I took my vows very seriously. Better or worse, richer or poorer, right? Well, this was it. This was marriage. And if I was gonna flip out and leave now, then the whole ceremony and commitment thing becomes kind of a joke.

When I told Erik about the conversation I had had with the reporter, he asked, well, have you ever considered it? Considered what? I asked. Divorce, he said. Again, the truth I replied was, no. And after all was seriously said, we ended up joking about it – and I ended up recalling a Twilight Zone episode (something I often do when life becomes confusing) where a man wakes up one day and realizes he can read everyone’s mind. The scene I recalled, was at a bank. He sees an older kindly-looking employee, at the end of the day, slowly pushing a cart full of cash into the big bank vault. He reads the employee’s mind and discovers that he’s plotting to steal the cash. So the dude flips out. “He’s gonna steal your cash! He’s plotting to steel all of the money!” There’s a kerfuffle and lot’s of crazy-eyed ranting (your standard Twilight Zone stuff)….then when it all calms down, the employee’s like, “Duh, I think about stealing that money everyday, but I’m not gonna do it. I just think about it.”

At which point Erik and I confessed our make-believe divorce contingency plans. (which, I totally differentiate from actual divorce plans) In his plan, he would move out and I would keep the house. He would live in the new condos down by the train station, where all the young cool people live and commute into the city. (Boston at the time) He’d be close to the kids, and we’d get to move on with our lives. Him, going to bars on the weekends with scores and scores of cute young women – me home with the kids, baking cookies. Ironically, my fantasy was quite similar. Only, the cute young girls in my scene didn’t find the fact that he had an ex-wife and 2 kids all that attractive. And I didn’t just stay home and bake cookies….I also drank wine, and watched HGTV on Sunday afternoons.

So anyway,  it was such a provocative question she had asked. It really got me thinking. Maybe if she’d been a therapist probing into the trenches of my brain, or perhaps if it had been in complete confidence, (which would be the exact opposite of a public newspaper) then perhaps, I would have said that it had crossed the abyss of my brain, not the frontal lobe; and never something that would’ve moved me into executive action. Leaving was not an option.

There’s a big difference between playing things out in your mind and being in a place where you’re actually considering it.  And I felt I couldn’t explain that subtlety as I briefly talked the reporter.  All I could picture was telling my husband, “Hey, I got quoted in a paper!”  Then him reading it and saying, “Holy Crap! You want to divorce me?”

I was thinking about this today, because Erik and I had a casual talk about the “state of things.” Indeed, there’s been a lot of stuff that’s happened since then. Erik finished a documentary called, Lemonade. There’ve been plenty of freelance gigs to keep us in the clear. (and enough available credit) There’ve also been lots of possibilities: book, employment site, directing, interviews, blogging, presentations…some coming to fruition / some not. We’ve relocated to Texas, for a couple of reasons, but mostly because the cost of living is so much easier. But that’s the gig isn’t it? If you’re gonna try something new, you gotta make a lot of attempts and see what sticks. And what’s sticking right now is a film he’s working on called Lemonade Detroit. But as any documentary filmmaker knows, it isn’t easy. Funding, working, family, it’s all a lot to balance, if it can be balanced at all.

So, here we are again, in-between gigs. It stresses me out and yet at the same time, his film Lemonade Detroit is really coming together, and it’s beautiful. See, Erik’s high tolerance for risk is only out-matched by my high intolerance for risk. So instead of being a source of boundless support and energy, I turn inward. I worry. Just when Erik needs a cheerleader, I become a hand-wringer. I told him I didn’t want to be such a fair-weather wife. And he said, “you should write about it”. So, I am.

He also told me, “There’s a lot of good stuff happening right now. I know you’ll stop worrying once the money is sorted out and the pendulum swings back up; you’ll be positive and full of support, but when I need it – is right now.” Oh, shit. He’s right. And wow, that sure sucks of me. All my previous talk of for better or worse goes right out the window when you look at it that way. So for a reality check, I watched what some of the Lemonade Detroit Producers are saying. If they have faith, if they believe, and if they know it’s a story worth telling – maybe I could too.

But I’m on the other side of it, and this is what happens. I’m human, I’m a doubter and a worrier. And if all that doubt creeps back in, well, as Sharon Salzberg says about meditation, “Even if you have to restart a million times…that is the practice.”

In my post on Unemployment and Marriage I talked about how much talking about it all helped  -  an open dialogue. That’s what Erik and I had this morning. Fears, reality, consideration….hope, faith, trust.  I re-read that post today. I can hear the conviction in my tone, and the fear. It’s up and down. But the sense I remember as I wrote that post was…..I’m kinda scared, but I know this is gonna be ok.

Time to begin, again.

WOTY?

My husband got laid off about 2 years ago from a big ad agency.  When that happened, he started a blog called Please Feed the Animals. It helped him, and others in the ad community, work through the emotional maze of laid-offdom.  Awhile ago, I contributed some articles to the blog about being married to the person who got laid off.

It was a weird time.  What was happening?  What comes next?  Nothing was the same, nothing was certain.  The jobs just didn’t seem to be what they used to be, and certainly not as plentiful.  So we made a change.  We decided to exit the job (not-so-super) highway and go off-road…

What we discovered, was that there are a lot of other off-roaders out there.  All of us trying to make sense of it, and hopefully make a connection between working life and living life.   Erik was so compelled by some of the other off-roaders’ stories, that he made a documentary called Lemonade.

Thing was, at that point, the easy (sensible) thing for me to do would’ve been to say: “Stop blogging and get a job.  What?  Make a movie?  How?  With what?  Are you new here?  We have a mortgage and 2 kids!”  But for the life of me, I don’t know why I said, “Okay.”  And I just kept saying, “Okay.”  I’m not like that.  It was very very weird – but it just felt like the right thing to do.

It has been uncertain…But sometimes when I see things like the recent comment from PFTA below -  I just feel like this is the right direction:

“Erik: Lemonade and PFTA have had a huge impact on my life. The inspiration I found through both helped me to quit my ad agency in pursuit of something more fulfilling. There are several PFTA posts, The 2 AM Wake Up Call in particular, that forced me to evaluate my situation in a hard, realistic manner. Without reading it, I’m not sure where I’d be at.

My point is PFTA and Lemonade have changed lives. Yours included. And I’m very happy that you now identify as a Documentary Film Maker, evolving with your passion. I think in a way PFTA has always been a space “for all things reinvention”. Yes, of course it was focused on unemployed ad people, but PFTA provided a cathartic experience where many people realized the ad agency life was killing them. This realization generated reinvention and this reinvention changed perceptions and took down the walls that had previously deemed our passions unrealistic.

I would love to see PFTA carry on and continue to be a place of reinvention, because for me, PFTA has been more about inspiration than anything else.”

Fast forward to today, and we’re still off-roading, it’s a little bumpy, but kinda awesome.  We’re further away from advertising (I say we, ’cause if you’re in advertising, or married into advertising, it makes little difference.)  and Erik’s moving closer to other work.  Documentaries, story-telling, and maybe even a whole new career.  He’s working on Detroit Lemonade right now – and it looks awesome.

These last 2 years have been about figuring out what it means to love your work and take some risks.  Not easy.  This went against all of my previous methods of operation.  But now that we’re almost on the other side, people are telling me that I was very brave to take this risk with him.  There was even a tweet that referred to me as, Erik’s warrior wife.  Erik read it to me, and all I could think was:  Warrior?  Whoa, I dunno about warrior.  Worrier, definitely.

So, worrier or warrior?  I don’t know, maybe I’m a little of both…and I guess that’s not so bad.

Goin’ to the chapel

The other night my husband and I were watching tv. There was something on about brides or honeymoons or something matrimonial. My husband looked thoughtfully at the tv and said, “On our 10th anniversary we should get married again.” A little confused, I responded, “…To each other, right?”

Marriage – The Ultimate Endurance Sport

I told my husband the other day that I was going to write a post on marriage. More specifically I said, I am going to compare it to a marathon. He’s said, That’s cool, blog on. Then even more specifically I said, I was thinking about that documentary, Running the Sahara, and how it compares to a marriage. He said, That’s not cool.  I asked, Why? He continued, What you’re suggesting is that marriage is a grueling marathon, run everyday, across a hot bleak dessert, full of doubt, where nothing good ever happens, until you come to the finish line and you win nothing? To which I replied, I see your point…How about the Boston Marathon? Done.

My point with this metaphor is that marriage is indeed work. Weddings, those are fun. We spend a lot of time and money at the party. But when the cake has been consumed, the guests are gone, and it’s time to wake up from the honeymoon – That sound you just heard? It’s the starting gun, are you ready?

Are you ready for the challenges? For the weight gain and loss, sleepless nights, job loss, chronic and unbelievably smelly feet (mine), poor investments, mood swings, and ups and downs in the course? But as people who run marathons know, if you are prepared, then with great work comes great reward…you can get over those challenges. And for marathoners the reward is indescribable. True camaraderie, a sense of accomplishment, runner’s high, and a wordless sense of joy. That’s what marriage is for me. As I struggled to describe my feelings to my husband, I realized that I didn’t actually have the words. I was trying to describe the challenges and the joy. I couldn’t explain how or why marriage is amazing, it just is.

A couple of co-workers of mine ran the Boston Marathon and said it was one of the most amazing experiences of their lives. When they talked about it to a group at my office, you could see everyone tearing up. They explained that just when you hit a stretch like Heartbreak Hill – you think, I’m not gonna make it. But then there is an almost transcendent sense of lifting up – people (complete strangers) all along the course telling you, “You can do it! You look great….just a few more miles!” Then once you come over Heartbreak Hill you see the skyline of Boston. Then you just run on…

So if compare my current marriage to a marathon – My first marriage then, must have been a sprint. Lots of energy and over very quickly. But that sprint trained me. And more importantly brought me here to Boston. And as everyone knows, if you want to really experience a race – ya gotta go to Boston. ‘Cause everything before that? Just training. Not only did it prepare me for the challenge, but also prepared me for the joy. The partner, the person who shares the challenges and the rewards…well, I just can’t find the words.

Hello? Hello?

A couple of weeks ago I was still in bed and my husband was awake downstairs. I knew the floor was cold, but I could smell the coffee brewing. I thought for a minute, then did what any rational person would do. I called his cell phone and asked if the coffee was ready. What made him hang up on me?

He noticed…

My husband just called me from Costco. He said, “Honey, your list mapping skills are amazing.” I think I just fell in love all over again.

The State of the Family

In the days following the State of the Union address, I saw lots of analytical press. What President Obama did or did not talk about. Things he’s actually doing vs. things he’s not doing. Let’s see: Wall Street, War, Health Care, College Tuition, American Manufacturing (lack of), and Clean Energy.

Since then, I have been thinking a lot about the “State” of things. Thing is, I am not qualified to discuss the State of the Union. I only occasionally watch the news or read anything political – So I won’t discuss here, it would be presumptuous and rude. What I can comment on is the State of the Family. And by Family I mean mine, and the people in my community.

Note: I did manage to scan quickly, while my daughter was jumping in front of me, an article on the Huffington Post about the lack of priority placed on the Middle Class. Arianna Huffington made the argument that America is going to go Brazilian, and by Brazilian she did not mean brutal waxing. But rather the divide between rich and poor will become an unbridgeable chasm. No more middle class. Hm. That would suck. I would really hate to be voided out as a result of poor policies.

Now to my point, The State of the Family, as I experience it: I have 2 friends right now who have been unable to sell their former houses after relocating for work. One family is carrying 2 mortgages, and the other is carrying a mortgage and rent. They can’t manage that forever, then what?…Another family I know has relocated to another state, after a lay off, and moved back in with their parents. Another family with 2 full-time working parents, made the decision for the dad to stay home. It got to the point where they were passing each other on the highway, and stopping at rest stops to transfer the kids. They cried, “Uncle.” One of our family members was just completely blind-sided by a lay-off yesterday. Another family I know is in the middle of discussing a major lifestyle change. With both parents working, things are just too hard to juggle. And you don’t want to drop anything when you’re juggling a family. All of these families I know want to do the right thing. Care for their families, work hard, pay their taxes, and have a healthy marriage. It’s really hard though when external forces start seeping in. I won’t go into detail. I wrote a previous post on Please Feed the Animals about how these things affect a marriage.

I don’t hear too much about all of this in the press. I believe it’s because it feels like such a private matter. One article I did read awhile ago was in the Boston Globe about a what a modern depression would look like. It was an eye-opening article about what would most likely happen. It would be private and behind closed doors. I just hope it doesn’t all come true.

Most of the families I know have taken matters into their own hands. Downsizing, cutting back, career changing, asking for help, or relocating. I am amazed by how families cope and keep it together. Despite the external forces, I see people committed to each other and their families. This is it, we do what we have to do to stick together. Maybe the government could take notice and learn.

Domestic Damage Control

Uh oh. OK – Sometimes the laundry thing is funny. I can joke about the washed and unwashed piles…Well, lately more like rapids. The flow starts upstairs, then streams down onto the landing, where it eddies for a while, then makes its way to the cavern below to be washed.

But, it’s not funny when my poor husband has a screening of his new film Lemonade in Times Square tonight. I came up the stairs and I knew right away. Laundry stress. It’s all suds and games until someone needs to be a professional and meet and greet. Missing underwear and wrinkled shirts are no laughing matter.

Truth is – I actually double fumbled this one. Because I also needed to drop off some dry cleaning for him and I gleefully told them the pick-up was for Saturday, “Okie doke then, thanks bye!” But, my husband was leaving today(Friday morning), I’m so gonna get fired.

God Bless Blue Bell Cleaners. When I called yesterday and said I screwed up, they went through all their bags and found my husband’s shirts. Not only do they do great dry cleaning and laundering – they also save marriages. And, I also know for a fact that the owner can slam one right over a 2nd baseman’s glove into right field. Go purple!!

So, thank you to all of you who help me keep it together. I am a forever in your debt…Now, I should probably stop typing about laundry…and actually go do laundry. To quote Harry Hamlin as Perseus in Clash of the Titans….”It’s time for ACTION! Not words.” (close with dramatic hand gesture)

My Kingdom for a good night’s sleep

Marriage and sleep, a tough combination. In our house every night is like sleep roulette. Hey, what’s going to prevent sleep tonight? Snoring, kids, coughing, too hot, too cold, frequent urination? Ugh. I firmly believe that embracing separate bedrooms could save marriages. Think about it…A good night’s sleep in your own bed. It doesn’t mean that you don’t love each other. It means you care enough to say, your sleep means more to me than your body heat.

The demise of our blissful sleeping started when I was pregnant. All kinds of weird stuff started happening to my body. And at 7 months – bluh. I needed an airlift just to get me into the bed. Then once I was in it, moving around was even worse. I felt like a giant submarine with messed up ballast. But, my husband’s favorite part? My snoring. Oh my, I started sawing logs at night like a drunken boyfriend.   He couldn’t take it. Luckily, we were in a two bedroom apartment at the time. He could leave and sleep in the other room. I have to confess, when he would leave, I was secretly happy. Now I could roll my glorious belly over and stake claim to the whole bed. Ahhhhhhh.

So here we are tonight, what do we do? I have a cough, and my husband can’t stand the ridiculous amount of blankets I need. What any wise couple would do – somebody gets sent to the sofa. Only now, I’m suspicious that my husband might be secretly happy.

The Bathroom is not a conference room

We have an issue in our house. That issue is privacy. We have none. At some point, my husband and I need to explain to our kids, and each other, that a closed door means something. It means, there’s stuff goin’ on in here that you don’t need to know about. It means, it’s my turn Buster…I’ll be frank, we have 1 bathroom and 4 asses. Our situation can get as desperate as a Hot Pocket sample line at Costco.

I have to admit, a small part of me appreciates the lack of shame and modesty. We are all humans after all. But, geez there comes a point. I can’t send my children into the world thinking they can just barge into an occupied bathroom. So, I would like to go on record…I would like to make a formal apology to the future partner of each of my kids. If they don’t respect boundaries – it’s my fault.

So my husband actually daydreams about having another bathroom in the basement. But, ya know at least we have a bathroom. If my older relatives were here, they’d laugh. They’d tell us brutal outhouse stories. Something about freezing cold mornings, toilet paper made from Sears catalogs, and giant spiders. They would describe it as a character building experience. I certainly don’t doubt that it was.

So until that second bathroom arrives, if you are visiting us….Please take a number, and I wouldn’t have that second cup of coffee if I were you.