Perfume Dilemma!

Around the time Bryan and I got married, I discovered this heaven-sent, gardenia-ish, nectar-of-a-potion.
Kate Spade fondly called her Beauty.
I called her {in a sing-songy voice} life-changing!

 

When I wore this perfume, something magical took over!

Doors opened, people threw money at me, I received numerous proposals even though I was now a married woman!

See! Magic!

Nah!

But I did smell really, really good. 

Like heaven powdered in gardenia dust!

And then, last year I spritzed my last Beauty spray. Suddenly the delicate genie bottle was empty, so I took a mental note.  

Buy more magic gardenia juice.

And the next time I was in Nordstrom, I casually sauntered up to the lady at the glass counter, hundreds of tiny glass bottles staring back at me, sizing me up, wondering which group I belonged to.

There were the uniformed band members, perfectly-lined perfume bottles, bold words across their chests, the one in front sporting a silver band on his cap.

There was the hippie crowd. Colorful, artistic designs molding their distinct shapes. Musk aromas floated from this off-to-the-side group.

Then the studious, Ivy-League bound perfumes. Crisp, a bit arrogant, a pretty penny for liquid gold. I'm worth it they sighed, looking down their elongated glass noses at me.

Where was my group?

Eyes darting, I'm looking everywhere for Beauty. 

Kate, where are your peeps?

I'm not sure if the perfume associate didn't hear me at first, or couldn't stop staring at my age spot laden forehead, intently trying to honor Nordstrom's reputable customer service policy, despite her instinct to grab my hand and march me over to anyone in the cosmetic department that could fix my sun damaged situation STAT...

when suddenly I realized she had heard me, and was waiting for my reply to the fact that NO, Kate Spade no longer birthed the magic Beauty potion!

Then it was my turn to stare at her~ her flawless, glowy, un-spotted face.

My mouth went dry. The counter started to tilt. Band members, hippies, and smarty-pant bottles circled above.

Okay, I didn't pass out. 

Maybe an over-exaggerated hands-clenched-to-my-mouth gasp, but I maintained professionalism despite my whirring thoughts.

How can this be? Kate knows better!

This perfume has journeyed my entire marriage thus far. 

Through moves, job changes, managing winery events, baking bazillions of brownies for youth leaders, playing with our first dog then our second, painting walls, celebrating pregnancies, walking on the beach holding hands~ my husband on one side and my boys on the other. 

This perfume has witnessed every aspect of my greater life, and now...

it's GONE?!!!!!

Now, I'm not a sentimental person.... just ask my husband {the good thing is that he is!}

I didn't save my macaroni art project from the 3rd grade, or my first Bible.

The boys' first haircut is not protected in a tiny clear bag. Nor will their teeth be.

I can bag clothes to Goodwill, and sell to garage sales without batting an eyelash.

But traditions... well, don't get me started. I live for traditions. Really, any reason to celebrate will happily become a tradition if you're with me. 

You just got a new job? Congratulations. Mark this day on my calendar and we'll celebrate every year with brownie sundaes.

It's Friday? Well, come over to our place for make-your-own-pizza night!

Christmas is coming? You bet your bottom dollar we're heading to Mana's for the annual cookie baking day!

Traditions... I grin just thinking of them.

But for some reason, this darn Beauty perfume had me all sentimental-y! 

So, I did what any respectable, mature woman would do.

I drove him, sat on the couch and mourned the loss of a magical era.

Just sat there, my eyes crazy-like, the world spotted in sadness.

My boys lost their mother that day- they were neither dressed nor fed. 

They had to chase down the neighborhood ice cream truck for a chance at nourishment. 

My husband came home to an empty kitchen table, his wife bedraggled, the kids, now at the neighbor's begging for bread. 

A tragic day at the Pogue Cottage!

But, enough was enough. None of this sentimental nonsense. It's just perfume! My goodness!

The next day I rose, put on my big girl panties, and have been on a search for the perfect perfume ever since...

and last week I found it!

Not Beauty's replacement, but a more sophisticated version of her modern self. 

Allow me to introduce the newest love {aside from my still fabulous hubby}:

Tocca Florence

 

She's amazing. 

And yes, she too is magical! No proposals yet, but it's barely been a week!

My life can now go on...

However, if, you happen to come across a secret stash of Kate Spade's Beauty, be a darling and email me, or better yet, show up on my doorstep with a bottle. I will pay you back in weekly brownie deliveries for life. Yes, I'm serious!

And no, that's not being sentimental in the least!

Dating my spouse

 Remember those ooey, mushy feelings you had when you first started dating your spouse?

The way you took over an hour to get ready
and always wore perfume?

Remember wanting to kiss for one more minute
and counting down the days until you saw each other again?

Remember displaying the creative, small notions of your heart?

Then suddenly, whoosh....

A spring wedding rains puddles of work responsibilities,
summer heat blazes sticky moves
... years pass...
fall leaves shade orange in expectant baby news
winter frost chills contentment, and questions rise to our Creator

Seasons have circled, life has orbited, and the ooey, mushy's haven't disappeared, only settled.

It's a comfortable settle, where life responsibilities ground maturity and children pull our attention. Paychecks jump into diapers, and business ventures, waving off fewer weekend getaways and shopping sprees. Celebrating the everyday, at times, is tugged with a yearning for the early years, and then just as quickly as the tugging began, it's replaced with joyful squeals and an inner Redwood ring of marriage commitment.
And seasons circle.

On a surprisingly warm, winter day, we moved to Huntington Beach. Unpacking books and hanging vintage windows, I came across a box protecting love notes that Bryan and I had exchanged. Some, store-bought cards whispering sweet sentiment, while others were scribbled on-the-go, a neon Post-It of chicken scratch. Endless reminders of a cautious like, then love, our giddiness at togetherness, our thankfulness to God for intertwined paths.

For hours I read, notes all around, like fallen feathers. Memories danced before my eyes as I relived each word, one moment laughing at an inside joke, and the next tearing up at a verse Bryan had sharpied on a card before my first job interview.

So many love notes... so much love!

When did we stop scribbling sentiments?

In that moment, two facts became stare-me-in-the-face apparent:

The first being that I really need to work on my penmanship!

And the second, a sobering desire to revive our dating days, the days when love notes flourished and flirting was the norm.

I began the conversation in my head, 'If my priorities are my Savior, then my spouse, how are my actions reflecting this?'

Filing through a mental inventory of my days, I thought, 'Am I communicating love to him, the one to whom I daily commit "I do", the person who knows me best? Am I taking giant, heart-wide steps,  in practical, small ways?

Because taking extra steps always requires work. It's much easier to do the minimum, in any area of life, really.

In school: C's get degrees...!
With my spouse: He knows I love him.
With my kids: At least I was in the same room while the boys were playing...

But I don't want to live in the minimum, I want the fullest of life,
of my Creator,
of my other half,
of our boys!

I want the love note marriage and flirty glances. 
I want to date my spouse!

Scooping the cards back in their box, I set aside my favorites to frame as a reminder on our bedroom walls.

Later, I'll go on a date with my hubby. I'll share my heart, my desire for the fullest, my apology for letting life cloud my priorities.

It'll go something like this:

I miss you.
I love you.
and I want to date you!

Marriage

April, we will celebrate our 8th Wedding Anniversary!

Eight.

It has a nice, even sound to it.

It's not the 5th anniversary, and certainly not a big to-do like 10, but it has a comfortable, in-the-middle-tone to its special place as our eighth year of life together.

Eight fits us quite well these days.

These days of God's Best, where we are settling into the rhythm of life in Huntington Beach.

Many seasons of marriage have led up to this year of Eight.

Bliss.
Adventure.
Growth.
Life.
Awe.
Challenge.
Direction.

And now.
Year 8, a year protected in the prayed for, and wrapped in God's promises... this may just be the best year yet!

 And to to cheer it on, to go before our 8th Anniversary and welcome it boldly and confidently, we opted for a Marriage Conference, The Marriage You've Always Wanted, with Dr. Gary Chapman, this past weekend.

Do you know the best part about it?

No, it wasn't the fabulous dinner we shared at an intimate Cuban restaurant with some friends before the first evening session.

Or listening to the down-to-earth, fuh-nee, practical Gary Chapman, who, when I closed my eyes, his North Carolina accent transported me to a calm, Nicholas Sparks beach.

Nor was it even the child-free weekend we had, because our amazing brother and sister-in-law offered to watch our boys, so we could have quality time.

The best part was walking into the conference with a healthy, thankful approach on our marriage.

Because it's not always that way.
Healthy and thankful.

We've had our marriage spikes of hurt, resentment, discouragement, and complacency.

Through the valleys and ski jumps, I am blessed to have a best friend, that together, we choose to grow and heal, we choose one another, and walk forward side-by-side, onto the marriage coaster.

The timing of this recent marriage conference could have easily fallen during one of our flavorless marriage dips, and we, no doubt, would have walked into it, desperate and clinging, raw wounds and calloused hearts. It wouldn't have been a very fun approach.

But the timing was now. The present. Freedom. Going because it could only make us stronger.

I'm so glad we went.

Layers upon layers, of marriage wisdom was whispered to our ears.

Wonderful reminders about communication, love languages, and not speaking out of our emotions.

If I had to gift wrap the gems, the reminders he spoke just to me, lay them in a delicate glass box, and see them first thing every morning for the rest of my life, these are the gems you would peer through the box...

~  Communication: tell one another 3 things that happened to you today and how you felt about them. This opens up doors to talk, and you learn more about your spouse.

~ Pray together {this is a tough one for us~ great intentions but no follow-through} BUT, Dr. Chapman encouraged us to hold hands and pray silently to God. When you finish praying, simply say Amen and wait for your spouse. The power of praying together is really about praying to God, not one another. Love this point!!

~ Talk about your love language {they can change over the years} and love your spouse in his/her love language, not yours.
We touched on this later and took away practical ways to love one another daily.
Bry {acts of service} feels loved when I pack him a lunch for work.
I {quality time} feel loved when Bry initiates conversation about my day, before he turns on the TV or tackles a project.

~ Don't talk out of emotions.  If a conversation gets heated, it's wise to take some time to cool off and regroup.

~ Great questions to ask one another:
1. What can I do to help you?
2. How can I make your life easier?
3. How can I be a better spouse to you?

~ And the most sparkling gem of all, marriage is ministry!
If I serve and love on others, why wouldn't I want to serve my spouse?

Plus, we are excited to delve into The 5 Love Languages of Children, so we not only love one another in our specific love language, but our boys too! There's gonna be a whole lotta love in our fam!

What are some marriage gems you've learned along the way?