The Musician's Wife

Permission

I spent such a long time trying to be someone else.  I wanted to be an actual replica of a person who I admired (and, admittedly, idolized as the correct version of mother/wife/friend) and had been told was someone I should emulate.

I am realizing now, over the last two years of healing from the scars of having my metaphorical skin stripped away in place of what others thought was better, that I am enough.

Well, I'm not really enough, but I have been given the power to apply the things I have learned, and will continue to learn, as I see fit for me and my family.

This is true freedom for me.

I have no desire at this moment (my youngest is leaning on me, waiting to read a book together) to write a list of things...things I want to do, things I have done, things I need to do.  There are just so many things, and so little of them really, truly matter. 

Don't get me wrong, I love lists (name that movie!) it's just that I tend to feel so accomplished once things are out of my brain and onto paper and then nothing much happens after that.  Lists full of things that are not attainable right now in my current season of life just serve to make me feel discontented and terrible about who I am in this moment. 

And right now, in this moment, I am under the weather, tired and not looking forward to having to leave the comfort of my nest to venture down the street to work. 

I'll share the one New Years resolution that I've actually taken to heart (besides my promise to get the color finished on my new tattoo before my anniversary in March!) and made my own.

I resolve to give myself permission to be in the moment.  Because when you get right down to it, today, right now, this moment is all any of us get.

 

&^%$#@ sprinklers!!

I went to bed early last night. (930pm, which is REALLY early for me.)

I got up early this morning. (345am, which is REALLY early for me.)

After getting dressed (happily realizing that a shirt which hasn't fit me since I bought it now does!) I crept downstairs, readied a snack to take to work, ate breakfast and started editing a couple photos. 

Well, I got a little carried away and realized suddenly it was time to go, NOW.

So I head out to the car and realize that the sprinklers are going.  Right near the driver side door.

I also realize that I don't have the FOB and have to unlock the door with the key. 

It's dark.

I can't see the key hole. 

My ankles get soaked.

Yay.

So I get in and realize that the van is out of gas. 

Then I realize I don't have my purse (which was left at a BBQ in Seattle over the weekend and I'm getting back later today) so I have to go back in the house and get Brad's debit card.

Yay.

So I brave the sprinklers again.  My ankles get soaked. Again. 

I get to the front door.

My set of keys is lacking one for the front door.

*&^%$#!!

So I go back to the van and my ankles get wet.

MORE wet.

And open the garage door to get into the house.

You know that light that comes on when you open your garage door?

Our garge doesn't have one.

I trip over the following:

1. Something squeeky.
2. Something round who's sole purpose in it's existance is to break my wet, wet ankles.
3. Something alive, with a tail, who I believe to be of the species feline, genus rightplacewrongtime.

 

Potential culprit.

 

Then I realize that I already borrowed his card last night and it is residing in the leg pocket of my scrub pants (which I wear for my other job).

I have no idea where I took these pants off last night.

These pants are dark blue and I'm trying to find them in the dark, so as to not wake up my hubly.

I wind up having to turn on our bedroom light in order to find them. 

They are halfway under my bed UNDER a blanket I haven't used since we moved here.

HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?!

I get out to the van, drive to the gas station and realize I can't remember my husband's pin number.

But only after trying my own pin number fourteen thousand times getting more and more frustrated with each attempt.

Thank goodness for the credit option.

And that I remember our old zip code.

So I gas up, drive to work and, amazingly, arrive on time.

For the rest of the story here is something you need to know the following: Opening shifts at my job always have one supervisor/manager and one barista and whoever gets there first waits in the parking lot for the second person before going in.

So if you, say, pull into the parking lot at 450am and see not only your manager but another barista, you know one of you has shown up for a shift they aren't working.

We all go in and look at the schedule.

Who shouldn't have woken up at the booty crack of dawn and driven ten minutes to a shift they weren't working?

I'll give you a hint.

She has really, really wet ankles.

 

 

REPOST: When extroverts introvert and why it's not pretty...(May 2010)

I've previously talked about the alien that inhabits my husband and I've realized lately that I have my own times of introversion, too. 

Unfortunately, when both of us get on these orbits, it can really complicate our whole trajectory and knock us waaaaay off course.

The struggles we have been slogging through in the last week or so have been twofold.  One is deciding where go from here.  There are so many things we'd like to do but are limited by our resources, time and responsibilities.  This seemingly innocuous fork in the road would not be so frustrating if not for the second emotionally big ticket in our hands...

The second struggle involves relational hurts we have had to deal with in the last year. Thankfully, these aren't the results of any real tragedy but they are poignant none the less.  Though some might argue against the validity of our feelings, which of course only serves to cheapen our experience, this is not the truth.  This chain of events has come at quite high a cost indeed.  We have come to grips with the understanding that very few people in our lives will be able to understand it.  However, it has been very hard for me to strive against defending our experience and our decisions.  Defending ourselves is pointless for many reasons, the least of which is that we have no voice to do so to any real effect and the greatest is that we are commanded by our beliefs not to.  

Both situations are best left up to the Almighty. (Yes, I'm one of those people...)

But when you put yourself in such an awkward pair of shoes, you can't walk without a hand to hold...in short, you leave everything up to the supernatural.  Supernatural forgiveness, supernatural healing of hearts, supernatural acceptance and dealing with our own shortcomings which have/had a large hand in the situations.  Supernatural peace in deciding what to do next, supernatural signs, perhaps, or supernatural happenings. 

Not to say we'll just sit on our laurels and wait for someone to knock on our front door with a list of things to do or a job offer or a record deal. 

We've just been so focused on the big decisions we have to make and while we know we need to do something next, both Brad and I have been at a loss to figure out exactly what that is.

So we both wrapped ourselves up in our own emotions and fears like mummies and retreated within.  Which resulted in a pretty crappy week.

Spending that much time inside my own head?  Not a good idea.  Apparently I'm not that fond of my own psyche.

It all came to a head a couple days ago with the first panic attack I've had in almost two years. 

Not fun...not fun at all.

Not being able to swallow...my heart feeling like it might beat right out of my chest.

Icky.

I guess my self had to do what was necessary to get away from my...self.

Right.

I think that was Tuesday.  We met with friends who are wiser than we and trustworthy as well (those words mean more now to us than ever) and I came out of my shell and talked and talked and talked.

I am an outward processor...I have to talk out my issues and problems to figure them out.

They had encouraged Brad to talk as well...at some point.

But when we got home we just went to bed.

So naturally I felt worse in the morning.

Awesome.  (can you hear the sarcasm?)

Then, something truly awesome happened.

I got a hold of myself by the late afternoon Wednesday because suddenly (supernaturally?) I had clarity as to why.  I had been convincing myself that there must be something really wrong with me, but then, I had it.

Bing!

(um...in case you didn't know, that's the sound of that little light bulb going off over my head. You need to watch more cartoons...not the new ones, the old ones where cats and mice and coyotes and roadrunners kick the snot out of each other.  Then you'll understand)

I had come out of my introverted tailspin, but heard nary a word from my mate.

No mayday.

No ten four good buddy, I'm dealing right now.

No get right back atcha when I'm ready to talk.

Nothing.

Silence. 

Gah!!!!!

But I knew all I needed to do was wait.

Because while some people take silence as passiveness...as a lack of leadership...as, well, unmanly...I knew better.  Silence that lasts too long can most definitely be those things, but because I know and trust my husband...because, while he has made mistakes like anyone in the world, he has shown himself by his actions to be worthy of my patience, kindness and long-suffering. I had kind of put him on the spot at our impromptu get together with friends and now what he really need me to do was wait just a little bit longer.

And finally, when the words came, they were articulate and lacked any of the maliciousness, wrath and aggressiveness that can come with dealing with difficult situations too quickly and therefore too harshly. 

He told me how he felt, where he was, what he needed.  He listened to my suggestions and answered my questions.

Some went unanswered with a simple 'I don't know'. 

And that's okay.  Because not knowing, and admitting it, is extremely humble. 

I like that in a guy.

So we shed our introverted emotional bandages, made some plans and laid out the possible foundation for the next chapter in our lives.

Then we did what all married couples should do when they've been apart, even just emotionally.

We did the macarena.

What did you think I was going to say?

Sickos...

So today was filled with more hope and expectation than we have had in a while.  There's big things on the horizon for us, we're sure of it.

They're just too far away to see the details, yet.

And that's okay. 

Contentment can be supernatural, too.

PhotoCredit

Oh, how I've missed you!

This has been the longest hiatus I've ever taken from blogging.  

It has been wonderful.  I knew that the moment I started thinking "This would make a great post!" that it would be time to come back.

Well, here I am.  And I can't really remember what I thought was such a great thing to share with you all.  

It could be that our lives are being saturated with change at the moment.  

First of all, we're moving after living in the same place for almost five years (you can read about why here).  That in and of itself has been nerve wracking, disappointing and exciting all at once.  If you've ever moved five people's worth of stuff, three of those people being kids who are scared and nervous and don't understand how their beds could possibly fit through the front door then you know what I mean.  We had a place but backed out because the basement walls were squishy with moisture and Brad was not comfortable with all the exposed wires and water down there.  Which was sort of a side note because the elderly landlord FORGOT he gave the place to us and had another family moved in before we could even tell him we didn't want the place anymore.  So yeah, that kind of worked out.

Second, my work situation is being altered greatly.  The lady I take care of is moving in with her daughter in a new house about 85 miles south of us.  Not exactly good as a regular commute.  I'm SO happy for her, though, this is a much better set-up and she'll never be alone at night.  I recently gained a really unique opportunity working with an award winning author, which I am extremely stoked about.  It all came about essentially through a rogue email and I cannot believe how blessed I am for this chance to apply work I love doing to help someone I greatly respect and get paid for it!  This work won't be the end all, though, until I can show how effective I can be and then build a client base of other authors.  So, I'm still doing my photography (another job I absolutely love doing), I will be working for Millie for a while longer and I will also be working for Starbucks part time as a barista.  

Lest you think my musician husband is just sitting on his butt playing his guitar Andy Dwyer style, he's finished a new album, is playing The Bite of Seattle next month and is still the Technical Director at our church.  

Um...we're a little bit busy.

School is out on Friday, my daughter 'graduates' kindergarten tomorrow and it still feels like early spring in Seattle, which I am NOT complaining about.  (Unlike what seems to be 90% of Seattle area people I do not miss nor wish for hot weather.)  

Let's see...what else?  Our older boxer has cancer, our younger boxer is adorable and we find out today if we got the latest house we applied for.  We just got family pictures taken with Kaylee Eylander and I can't wait to see them.  I have my own computer now (no sharing with Brad and getting in trouble for messing up his OCD desk organization) and am currently getting the people's eyebrow because said husband is slaving away packing while I'm dinking away on the interwebs.  

Alright, friends! There is your five second update and here is a promise: I will be posting regularly again starting now!

Did you miss me?

Do you like my new design by Karli Ingersoll?  I do!

 

 

Mother Theresa I am not

My life is a constant marathon of serving other people.  My day job is taking care of an elderly lady in her home. My mornings and evenings and often nights are spent helping care for my three children and doing my darnedest to support my husband's music career. Both Brad and I try to be available to support others as well, be it through attending shows, lending an ear, making a meal or providing a couch to crash on.  This is not some special feat, or some big mission we're on to change the world.  It's just who we are.  We love people and try to do so as practically as possible.

Sometimes my job is hard.  Sometimes loving on my kids is hard.  Sometimes being married to a musician is really hard.  Loving others outside of my inner circle...that's hard sometimes, too.  More often than not, though, it's the mundane, repetitive things that are the hardest for me.  Giving someone money when they need it?  Easy.  Living life with others, getting let down, those things are the hardest.  It's why marriage is so difficult.  Being in for the long-haul is where the rubber meets the road and I am often surprised at how little tread I've got on my tires.  I do think so highly of myself sometimes.

Love is hard and love attracts all kinds. Once you open up yourself to this idea that you're going to live in love--and I mean real love--what you've done is open a jar of honey that many will be drawn to.  What I've learned is this:  If you're going to love for real be ready to deal with flies and angry bears.

The crux of living a life in love is that you offer up yourself to be exposed to the vicious and the gentle, the bitter and the kind--sometimes in the same person.  If you hide yourself from the wolves you hide yourself from the doves. If we learn to live under the assumption that the only real collateral damage of truly loving others will be our own pride we can be much more bold in our pursuit of others beyond our own short sighted agenda.  For being truly loving is, in itself, it's own armor. 

I am no Mother Theresa.  I all too often want something in return, I want results, I want to see the fruit of my labor.  Working with Millie has helped me to see that.  Millie has dementia and I cannot make it better.  All I can do is go moment by moment and make each of those minuscule amounts of time the best they can be for her. 

This is, really, all we can hope to do for anyone. 

 

 

In flight

I've felt myself  morphing over the last few months, sort of waking up from the fog of survival into a place with more clarity of thought. 

It has been like being in an airplane on the tarmac waiting for take-off on a cold and foggy Seattle morning.  There have been several stages, from waiting at the gate, tired and bleary eyed (because I never sleep well before travel) to boarding the plane, stowing my baggage, getting buckled in.  Then there is the waiting.  I know I'm on the right plane but I'm not sure where it's going and I can't see much out the window because it's so dreary out. 

Then there is the take off, the stage of expectation and that twinge of fear for all the what ifs.  The landscape blurs as we barrel down the blacktop and then that feeling of the reality of gavity pressing my body into the seat which reminds me every time that flying is not natural for humans.  Exhilarating, yes.  Second nature? No. Not for me, at least.

Now I feel like my flight has reached it's cruising altitude above the clouds and rain and fog.  Up here there is sunlight and I can see for miles.  Occasionally we jet through banks of view obsucring clouds, but not for as long as before.

I still don't know where I'm going but I do know I'm where I'm supposed to be right now, in this moment.

I have all these ideas about what I want to do, what I could do, where we should go, what we could be.  Now is the time to figure all that out.  It's exciting. I'm ready. With my man and my kids by my side I have the feeling we could do anything!

Now, for focus.  Narrowing the field of view.  Choosing my adventure.  Choosing our adventure. 

Of course, there are boundaries.  That's life.  We don't get to just fly wherever, willy-nilly.  We need a flight plan and the foundation for the plan is our faith and our comitment to one another.  

Now to figure out what stops we need to make along the way!

 

PhotoCredit

 

 

Musicians and Marriage

Here's a search that lead someone to my blog:

"Musicians and marriage don't mix."

Well.  

Obviously I don't know from where this person was coming in searching such a thing, nor what answers they were hoping to get.  However...I will share what I do know.

1. Marriage to a musician is much different than marriage to someone who is famous.
2. Fame can mess anyone up.  
3. Some things that can help: a) each person in the marriage knows themselves, acknowledges their short comings and strives to change them.  b) each person in the marriage knows their spouse, acknowledges their strengths and strives to help them overcome their shortcomings with patience and love.  c) the couple has a strong foundation of loving friends and family that will stand up for the values that the couple holds to.  This means keeping them accountable, this means the couple allowing themselves to be kept accountable and it means being sure to filter everything that comes from people who benefit from the fame (managers, record companies, marketing agents, etc.) through this foundation in order to weed out all of the inevitable crap that goes directly against the couple's value system.
4. Don't get me wrong, all those things above are also essential for a non-famous musician or really every couple under the sun.  However, fame tends to serve as an enormous source of pressure and, as with most things under pressure, whatever is under it begins to change.  Over time with the right foundations a marriage can come out from under that pressure changed into a diamond.  Without?  Something more like oil...slippery, toxic and prone to catch fire.  This is similar to marriage to a pastor or CEO or anyone else who's job comes with visibility and heavy responsibility.
5. If you don't have a firm foundation of values and beliefs, be prepared, in any marriage, to be tossed about like a ship without a rudder when storms hit.  And they will.

 

And now about musicians who aren't making a living at it quite yet:

It's really easy to try to peg male  musicians as one personality type or another but it's just not possible.  TV and movies show us two huge extremes:  The lazy loser who's going nowhere and the hard working, win-at-all-costs type of guy.  However, there are so many possibilities in the middle that trying to say that musicians are xyz and are not abc is rather fruitless.

Here's the bottom line.  Every kind of creative outlet tends to attract creative, artistic people.  Der.  But here's the kicker: Creative, artistic people are just as often organized, driven and motivated as they are not.  

So, if you're out there, frustrated at your boyfriend or spouse for being lazy and unmotivated or using his music as an excuse to not do anything else, your problem is not that you're dating or married to a musician.  There are plenty of people out there who feel the same way about their boyfriend/husband's failing small business, car restoration project, failed attempts at home improvement, insert non-artsy thing a guy can fail at here.

The problem lies in a lack of a firm foundation of values and beliefs that are not only shared but pursued by each person in a relationship. 

What do you value?  Security?  Hard work?  What are your goals?  Being a stay at home mom?  Sharing the financial burden equally?  

If the two of you are not clear on what each of you value in a relationship, if you are not clear on what you believe the purpose of your relationship is then you need to, in the words of Maria in the Sound of Music, go back to the beginning, which is a very good place to start.

I recommend going back to these basics with the help of a pastor or other spiritual leader, counselor, or even a trusted friend who has a relationship/marriage that you know is an excellent example.

My story in this endeavor, fortunately, is going okay because Brad and I have been extremely intentional to lay out plans based on our shared faith, beliefs and values.

Things had to get a little ugly, though, before we realized exactly how intentional we needed to be.  We had to strike a balance between me needing to know the details of how each various possible scenario would look and Brad working so hard that he forgets to keep me informed of the details.

So now we've got a plan.  Though it will be updated and changed as Brad's career changes, there are some things that are non-negotiable.  The key is that the plan was decided by both of us with lots of discussion and compromise on both sides.  Also, we have friends and family who know what our values are and in the event that we are faced with a decision on something they will help us make sure that we don't compromise in places where we shouldn't.

And this is what I hope for all of you out there searching for information on what being married to a musician or someone famous or whatever else.  That you would understand that marriage cannot just be something the two of you do alone.  

Okay, yes, there are a few things that the two of you should only be doing alone.

But making it work is not one of them.

 

 

 

 

 

Married Life Monday: Regarding undergarments

 

 

Here's a tip: If you ask your husband to grab some undergarments for you, do not expect them to be your well worn and comfortable old standbys.  

I don't believe in over ten years together I have ever ask my beloved to pick out my underwear.  Perhaps, subliminally I knew it would end up like it did today.

One thing to keep in mind, gentlemen readers, is that most women (especially those of us who are over 28 and/or have had children) have two or three separate categories of undergarments. 

The first category are our "comfies".  These are often pairs of skivvies that we've had for a while, made of soft materials and are most likely not the sexiest or most flattering things in the world.  But they don't pinch and they don't bind and for that, we love them.

The second category is sort of a secret one so I can't go into too much detail.  I will say that this group could be labeled the "minor self torture" section.  These include scary named items such as spanx, minimizers, lifters and shapewear.  I can say no more, and you probably don't want to know.  

The third category is the "sexy" one.  I'm sure you can imagine the kinds of unmentionables in here.  Some of us buy these things spontaneously and others go to great lengths to find just the right things to dive their spouses wild.  One thing that most women in that 28 and over with kids life stage do not take into consideration is how comfortable these items are, because, well, it's not like we spend a lot of time traipsing around the world wearing these kinds of things under our peanut butter and spit up stained shirts and well worn yoga pants.

So when I asked my man to "Grab me some underpants and oh, I'll take a bra if there's one in there, too." (He looked at me at first and replied, "Underpants? Is that what we're calling them now?" in a rather dry voice.") I was not expecting him to hand me anything from category three.

But that's what he did.  Oh, yes it is.  

I said, "Honey! I'm going to coffee with a friend!"

"Yeah? So?" he replied with a Chessire cat-worthy grin.

Oh mylanta.

Men! 

 

 

Being Married to Musician

**UPDATE** Please see this post for my thoughts on being married to a musician.  Thank you!

 

 

I have been bombarded with hits to my blog from people googling three similar things:

Being married to a musician

Being a musician's wife

The life of a musician's wife

I was telling Brad that I didn't think I had enough posts that were easy to find about being a musician's wife and that I was worried I wasn't hitting on the topics people most want to know about.

I realize that part of it is that many people want to know what it's like to be married to a famous musician.

I can't help you there.  My man is currently working his arse off just being a musician.  He's playing lots of gigs around Seattle and is planning two mini-tours for as soon as the album is done, but he is far from being well known outside our circle in Seattle.  For now. ;)

However, I know there are plenty of other people out there who are married (or committed in some way) to musicians and that's why they're coming to my blog.

For some answers.

But I really don't feel like I know the questions.

So, readers.  I know you're out there.  I know you may just be stopping by on some quest for information. 

I really, really want to help you!  

What do you want to know?  If I don't have the answer I will find someone who does.  

Non-musician's wife people:  Do you have any suggestions of what people may want to know?  

You can post comments totally anonymously...you have to leave an email but that won't be seen by anyone but me, and if you don't put a name I will assume you desire to be unknown.  That's totally okay.  Use an alias if you wish.  Whatever.  (Rude comments will be deleted, though.)

Help me help you.

HELP ME HELP YOU!!

 

 

Battling Inadequacy

I am a perfectionist...and not the kind that works at something and won't give up until it's juuuuust right, but the kind that won't start something unless there is a 95% chance it can be done well and completely in one go.

I am also keenly aware of the sheer volume of people in the world that are better than me in everything.

These two things together create in me an icky, hissing voice that is darn near impossible to ignore.

It's name is Inadequacy.  

I hate it's guts.

Inadequacy is a crafty critter that takes a thread of truth (such as,"You're not the best writer in the world." or "You're an imperfect parent.") and somehow weaves a sticky web if lies and half-truths that I often blindly fly through only to get completely entangled and eventually stuck.  

Because of the transparent nature of this web, and the fact that it's very slimly based on something true it is very hard to avoid it.  I'm trying to learn what to do when I'm stuck.  My thinking is that by learning to escape I'll eventually learn to avoid.  That's my plan, anyway.

Since I'm a Christian, my first weapon will be prayer.  I like to keep my prayers short when I'm frustrated, so it will probably go something like "I'm stuck.  Help please?"

I'm also planning a kind of mantra of complete truths that I can repeat to myself that include scripture.  Something such as "...whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." which is Philippians 4 verses 8 and 9.  The idea is to get my mind on positive things and away from Inadequacy's gibber gabber.  I can think about all the things I have done right and also think about people in my life that are inspiring rather than let my mind get carried away on the negative.  Heck, God even promises to be with me in response...you can't beat that.

The final thing is to grab those things that I avoid doing and do them anyway.  So when I'm feeling inadequate about blogging, I need to blog anyway...about anything.  Just get on there and post something, to show myself that I can.  If I'm feeling uninspired in my other writing, I need to write anyway.  Even if I don't add to my stories or book I need to write every day, period...even if it's all incoherent drivel!  If I'm screwing up in the parenting department I need to, as my swimming coach once said, fake it 'till I make it.  Even if I'm not feeling patient, or creative or energetic I need to fake it.  The feeling isn't truth--actions are the truth.  Acting patient is better than being a turd to my kids or husband.

There's a lot more to dealing with mental static than just these things, like eating right and exercise, but I think that having this kind of mental ammo is just as necessary for my survival.

What kinds of mental static to YOU battle?  How to you deal with it?