Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Let's talk about love.

Love is weird. 

Now before you go rolling your eyes saying, yeah like YOU'RE some kinda love expert, let me preface this with, I'm not, nor do I perceive myself as such. I am however, a human who holds in her possession a heart, a fully functioning soul, and a few years of trial and error under her belt. 

I've loved and lost, I've loved and won. I've cheated and I've been cheated on. I've walked away from love, I've ran smack into it. I've soared and I've sunk. I've got a past. I've sinned. I have gnitty-gritty unpretty parts in my story that taught me more than any textbook I paid $300 for in college. And I'm not one bit ashamed of any of this. Not one iota. It's shaped me and taught me, it's given me a frame of reference for the three individuals who count on me to guide them through this messy thing we call life. 

I didn't sit like a damsel in distress twiddling my thumbs. I made blunders for sure, but I seized days, even when I flopped I took something useful away from it. 
Also, I'm not stupid enough to think that everyone doesn't have at least one thing in their past that makes them smack themselves on the forehead. 

Now I'm a mom, my world's changed, axes have been tilted, my priorities are changed and suddenly I've started looking at this whole love thing in a totally different light. 

I'm divorced. *gasp* Yeah, turns out that doesn't earn you many points in the mommy groups. Ask me if I care. 

We co-parent, and we have our things that make us tic, but I can say with pride that after years of ironing things out here and there, and a husband that was amazingly supportive from day one,  most of the time things go pretty darned great. We've got an amazing kid that came out of it. She has four parents. FOUR! All four of them love her, all four of them want the best for her. All four of them are there for her. Some kids don't even have one parent that wants all of that for them, so as far as I'm concerned divorce was a win for me and everyone else. Why? Because we LOVE her. 

I used to think love was ferver, fantasy, romance...all that gunk you see on the Ryan Gossling flicks. 


But Ryan Gossling ain't bad........


Here's love. I'm so deep in it. My husband. Whew! It's real. But as it turns out, real love isn't pretty! I wish I could reach all of the young girls in this generation and shake them by the shoulders and tell them this. 


Real love is your husband snoring with his mouth open, but pulling you in to snuggle in the middle of the night. 

Real love is your hubby loading the dishwasher with your naked kids.

Real love is your hubby doing last nights dinner dishes while you sleep in.

Real love is enduring each others morning breath.

Real love isn't flowers and satin sheets, it's him filling your car up with gas, helping you clean up your kids puke splatters off the floor while you both laugh at the splat sound it made. 

Real love is supporting him through his big decision that you're actually kind of nervous about.

Real love is him holding your hand while you get a scary prognosis.

Real love is him bringing you ice water while your head is in the toilet because carrying his babies is making you sick as a dog. 

Real love is forever. Forever can be daunting. Forever ain't always fresh as a daisy. But forever? It's forever man....think about that. Someone loves you SO MUCH that they said 'ya know...I'm gonna deal with this human forever' 

that's HUGE!!! 

Real love is work. Backbreaking work.

Real love is effortless. It's a paradox. 

Real love is him empowering you. And you him. No resentments.

Real love is forgiving him.

Real love is him forgiving you.

Real love is sacrifice.

Real love isn't petty, it doesn't keep score. 

Never keep score. 

Real love is him holding you while you have one good weep, because someone you love broke your heart in a way you didn't think possible. 

Real love is him helping you mend that broken heart day by day, encouraging and being there through it all.

Real love is crying you're eyeballs out together when you hear your babies first squeak after the doctor delivers him.

Real love is being broke as a joke together and not minding one bit...because you're together. 

Real love is encouraging one another. Complimenting even when you don't feel like it. 

Real love is setting goals and lovingly holding each other accountable. 

Praying for him. Him praying for you. 

Real love is being each other's accountability.

Real love is having respect. Respect for your marriage, the vows you took. 

Real love Is understanding boundaries and being ok with them.

Real love is fighting some times.

Real love is trust. Recognizing it's value. Rebuilding it when necessary because you LOVE that other person. 

Real love is going shoulder to shoulder and plowing trough life together, day by day, year by year. 

Real love is saying I'm sorry. And meaning it. 

Real love is repenting. 

Real love is understanding that real love is a commitment, and a commitment is a decision you make. 

Dancing in the living room....after the kids are in bed and you kick a few Elmo toys out of the way. 

Real love is understanding the need of space from time to time. It's ok to need that. 

Real love is not watching the next show in the series until he can watch it with you. 

Cherishing the little moments that add up to a day, a week, a month, a year....

Real love is tag-teaming that crying baby(ies) in the middle of the night. 

I don't take it lightly that this big, tall, dark haired dude pledged his life to me. I love him with all I got. And through hell or high water, and there WILL be both in marriage, I'll love him still. Cause he'd do the same. 

So's not some grandiose gesture all of the time, although those can be nice every once in a while, but it's beautiful. It's a dance of commitment and tenderness mixed with just the right amount of turmoil to keep you both grounded. 

Yep, that's love alright. 


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