Prenup, schmeenup

Mrs. Happy here, reporting to you live from the Happy Home! First, I just
want to shout from the rooftop how much I love my husband and my marriage
(but probably
more people will hear me this way!)!!!!!
At the same time, I am saddened by the world around me, and the unfortunately
common attitudes shared by spouses, spouses-to-be, and ex-spouses.

I was involved
in a conversation recently with a bride-to-be whose success, beauty, and
integrity I admire, but whose ideas about marriage seem, at least to me, destined
to
make her miserable. I was actually a bit surprised when she told me that
she had
been sent a lengthy document detailing her and her fiancee’s prenuptual
agreement, and that her lawyer and his lawyer were fighting over it, effectively
souring
both of them to the whole idea of getting married!! I offered my opinion
that signing a prenuptual agreement already reflects that they don’t trust
each
other, and someone else in the room replied, "No it doesn’t. It’s just business."
WHAT?!

Marriage is most certainly not a business; it is a sacred union based
on love, trust, and commitment, and frankly it scares me that this isn’t
obvious to
people (and that they’d actually argue with someone who believes this
to be true).
I just felt really sad for her, and wished I could just show her a brief,
fast-forwarded version of the marriage I have cherished over the years,
or maybe if she had
time to read all of these wonderful posts from the beginning…

More heart stuff

Many of you read about our misadventures in Arizona—if not, read the whole story
part
1
, part
2
, and part
3
.
We have since chalked Curt’s condition up to low potassium levels, and have adopted
the mindset that "a banana a day keeps the PVCs away," but lately that hasn’t
been the case. Despite a steady monkey diet, Curt has been feeling strange again,
warranting more visits to the cardiologist. This has brought back unpleasant
memories for me about those days in the hospital with him, but it also reminds
me of the faith and fortitude with which we were able to get through them. As
an artist, I tend to process my feelings through my artwork, and I would simply
like to revisit a collage I did about that time and share it here.

Right now, the doctors are of the opinion that there’s nothing to worry about
and that the causes and results of the PVCs are completely benign. Thank you
for keeping up with our marriage, and thank you in advance for your prayers.

A word from Mrs. Cranky Happy

This is Mrs. Happy, and I made a big mistake today. As part of the process
of making up for it, I saw it fit to let Curt’s entire blogdom know
how imperfect his wife can be. Hopefully it will turn into a healthy bit
of marital education
to others as well.

I like to snooze…I’m not talking simply about sleep,
but serious, hit-the-snooze-button-at-least-four-times
hard-core snoozing. I’m also a very heavy sleeper, so it takes me a few
minutes to understand that the noise coming from the alarm clock is not a dream.
Curt, on the other hand, becomes semi-conscious at the sound of a pin drop,
and quickly shuts off the annoying alarm by hitting the snooze. This morning,
he
hit the snooze several times so quickly that I never had a chance to actually
wake up and realize what was happening, and by the time Curt told me what time
it was, I had just barely woken up, only to realize that I had precious little
time to get ready for work. Did I mention also that I am horrifically cranky
in the morning? To make a rushed and frustrating story even shorter, my evil,
pre-coffee madness was at an all-time high this morning, and I left the house
with some harsh words, and in a less than affectionate "Mrs. Happy" state.
By the time I got my coffee and finished my commute, I hadn’t given it
a second thought. By the time I got home, it was as if nothing negative (between
Curt
and me)
had ever transpired at all. Meanwhile, Curt had had a rotten day all day long
because
his feelings were hurt, and I had no idea. I guess part of me thought that
he should have learned by now that I am not myself (or a semblance of any other
pleasant person) in the mornings, and should have taken this morning with a
grain
of salt. Then I realized that our rule about never going to bed angry should
also apply to leaving the house. We should never part
company without some combination of the following: a hug, a kiss, and a sincere
"I love you."

Work in progress (by Mrs. Happy)

Howdy, bloggers and fans thereof! It’s Mrs. Happily Employed, bringing you another guest blog while Curt washes dishes and cooks me dinner! That’s right—things are gonna change around here, now that I’m a bread-winner. I’m being a little facetious here, but quite seriously I’m more than a little freaked out by some potentially monumental changes. You see, for the last couple of months I believe I have been engaging in somewhat of a “nesting” process, focusing primarily on improving domestic habits, cooking/eating healthier, getting into good physical shape, maintaining spiritual growth, and adhering to a reasonable budget. I’m nearing the ripe child-bearing age of 30, and it seems that we (particularly I) have been adjusting our lives in preparation for that future event. However, my Happy Husband and I both know that I need to work for a little while longer, both for increased financial security and to better establish my career before the inevitable break in employment when motherhood ensues.

On one hand, the acquisition of this job is a wonderful gift that enables us to move ahead with our responsible plans and break the uncomfortable stalemate we have been facing. On the other hand, I must now drastically shift my mind-set from that of a comfortable, cultivating housewife to that of a tired, stressed, busy career woman, newly committed to the mental well-being of a whole new set of needy people, and in a capacity that is completely foreign to me. I must admit that since I accepted the job, I’ve been incredibly anxious about the whole idea.

But here’s what makes it okay:

  1. The proud and loving sound of my supportive husband’s voice over the phone when I first told him the news.
  2. The congratulations from friends and family, especially those who have been praying for this very outcome.
  3. Celebratory free meals!
  4. The relief that we will experience with more income, and the satisfaction I will have in contributing to our funds and future.
  5. The knowledge and contentment that I will again use my God-given gifts to help others and grow further into the person He created me to be.
  6. The verse that I came across in my Bible reading this very morning: “When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?”—Psalm 56:3-4

So though my feeble human mind insists on freaking out once in awhile, I know in my heart that I am deeply loved and supported, that I am created to love and support others, and this job will be a reflection of those truths on many levels. I’ll just have to do my nesting on the side.

First kiss?her view

In Curt’s post yesterday, he said that our first kiss “may have been the most unromantic first kiss for a couple in the history of relationships.” In the comments section of that same post, Rey pondered the idea that “although you placed that kiss as completely unromantic, i wonder if your wife would place it in quite a different category…now and then….” So Curt and I agreed it would be proper to share my perspective on the matter.

Did I think his prelude was ridiculously lame? No doubt. Was the kiss itself the most romantic, heartfelt show of affection I’d ever experienced? Absolutely!

You see, I started to fall for my happy best friend long before he had an iota of a clue, but we’d been insisting on our “just friends” status so adamantly for so long that I didn’t want to appear a fool—little did I know that he had that department covered. I had found myself watching his lips move for the past six months or so, wondering, longing, waiting, then stopping myself, convinced that a kiss was never going to happen, nor should it.

Then came that December night that would change the dynamic of our relationship forever. When he mentioned mistletoe (and the evident lack thereof), I was struck by a feeling of exhilaration and whatever emotion goes with the phrase, “Oh, brother.” Despite the latter feeling, I was thankful for the invitation to capitalize on an opportunity I’d been coveting for months. Oh, and just to even the playing field of utter lameness, I paused to spit out my gum. I’ll be the first to admit that this was not the way I had envisioned the beginning of the first kiss with the man I would some day marry, but when he says it was the sweetest, purest, most powerful and clueless kiss ever, I must agree. Furthermore, this simple act became the catalyst for his and my separate (and eventually joint) realizations that we were undeniably destined to spend the rest of our lives together as husband and wife.

And indeed it still does make me tingle every time I think about it!

Pillow talk: Mrs. Happy

Hello again from Mrs. Happy, or Mrs. Put-on-the-spot-’cause-Mr.-Happy-has-writer’s-block. Curt was just asking me to name a few things that he does to make me feel special, and though I can think of several general examples, one recent evening keeps coming back to me.

A couple of nights ago, the wind really started to pick up outside and eventually a storm ensued, bringing heavy rain that beat against our windows. We had just settled into bed, and as I nestled my head against Curt’s chest, we started to talk. We talked about our future—how we would afford our own home, when we might have children, how long we might stay in New York, etc. These were not new topics that we hadn’t discussed at one time or another by any means, but for some reason those moments in the rain-splashed darkness have really stayed with me. Perhaps it was simply the atmosphere of that particular night that makes it memorable, but I also think that Curt’s attentiveness to me, despite his exhaustion, was really the key. So many times we’ve simply gotten into bed, cuddled awhile, and rolled over to fall asleep, having already talked about a million different things throughout the day. There’s nothing wrong with that at all, but on the rare occasions that I feel the need to discuss my hopes and concerns regarding our future, I am so comforted by the fact that Curt is willing to sacrifice precious sleep to have those in-depth conversations, and the rain doesn’t hurt!

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just grasping at something to talk about, but I know that in the past few days I’ve told several friends of mine that Curt and I had a really nice talk the other night, so I know that it must have meant a great deal to me, even if it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans to anyone else. Sometimes the simplest, most inexpensive, seemingly mundane moments in a marriage prove to be the most important, most meaningful, and the most special. Rain is optional.

Guest blog: Mrs. Happy

Curt’s been asking me for a couple of weeks to do a “guest blog,” and I’ve been a little apprehensive, first because I’m not really the writer of the Happy family, and second because this whole blog concept is pretty foreign to me, the stubborn and rebellious “luddite” (Curt’s word for what I’m talking about) daughter of a computer programmer.

However, I started to wonder if readers of Curt’s blog might wonder if he’s for real—sometimes I wonder myself because he seems too good to be true. That is, until he purposely startles me senseless or burps openly in front of my parents. I also feel his arms around me every day and see his watering eyes when he realizes
that I’m a person
.

So he’s definitely real, and I am so proud of him for his hard work on this blog. I must admit, however, that my support of his endeavors was a bit sketchy at first. I’m Mrs. Happy, not Mrs. Perfect. I get annoyed when he spends a lot of time on the computer, and I thought this would take too much out of our time together. Even when he assured me he’d do it early in the morning before we officially get up to get ready for work, I complained that it would hinder our “cuddle time.” Besides, what really is a blog anyway? Who will actually read it? What
IS IT WITH THAT
?

But as I’ve been reading it each day, I realize how insightful, humorous, and valuable it really is. The other night, when Mr. Happy went upstairs to check his e-mail, I heard his excited “Woo-Hoo!” and laughter and knew that it was blog-related. I yelled up to him, “How many hits did you get today?” He exclaimed, “Just come here! This is great!”

I found him beaming in front of the computer because another blogger (Chris Noble) had mentioned
Curt’s blog
on his web site. I can’t remember the last time I was so proud of him, and I immediately felt guilty for all of my annoyance and even some fun I had poked at him about his blog. I also realized for about the gazillionth time how much I take my husband for granted and how truly special he is. I was also reminded that a wife should always respect her good husband, no matter how little sense he makes sometimes.

I think he should really consider renaming his blog The Happy Wife.