Category: marriage

She sparks joy…

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

February feels a lot like these sun-rays, peeking out from behind this tree. Is it time yet? She softly asks, and with a resounding YES, we who are Janu-weary come together and urge February out of hiding…

The thing is, even though I am now a resident of Pennsylvania, I’ll be honest- I don’t believe in that groundhog or what silly weather fears that the men in tall, outdated hats project on it. Leave it alone already, men in hats! It is TOO MUCH PRESSURE. Will there be more winter? ok. Will Spring come early? ok. (I’m pretty disinvested in the answers to these questions, except that the answer seems to be “spring”, so I might be a little more interested in things now.) More times than I can muster up the energy to count, I have heard “no snow in the forecast” and gone outside an hour later to see three fresh, sparkly inches blanketing the ground. Likewise, I have heard “rain showers for the next three days.” and spent the very next day hiking in sunshine.

Being a weatherman might just be the best job ever, you get to just make stuff up, be proven wrong and not only will you still get a salary, but people will still flock to listen to you… EVERY. Single. time…

Let’s be real- It’s going to do what it’s going to do. If they are warning of something catastrophic, or at the very least preparation worthy, I’ll prepare. But I won’t stress. It’s weather… TOTALLY beyond my control. Beyond anyone’s control… (Pennsylvania Hat Men, do you hear me? ANYONE’s control…)

I took a slight ranty detour there. I apologize. FEBRUARY… I, along with everyone else in the masses, am so happy to see her. Even though it’s still coldish, even though February often shows us that winter isn’t even close to done yet, it is.

If you’ve read here for long, you’ll know that while I don’t really put a lot of stock in Valentines Day, I habitually believe in giving Valentines. I don’t want an expensive gift from my husband, but I do love the excuse for a fun date. I don’t need a box full of cards and chocolate (or any) to validate my worth- but as a gift-giver by nature (and a hand written letter lover) I look for any reason to share love and so, I can’t hate the day completely. (as a Valentine to you, please accept this wallpaper download, this cellphone wallpaper download and this perfectly curated February playlist. These and much more were in my February newsletter, and if you didn’t already know that- then you should probably sign up so you don’t miss stuff! XO)

But also, in her handy bag of luggage, February brings beautiful flowers in the supermarkets, more sunshine (even if it’s bitter out), later sunsets, less days til March, better movie releases, fun tv events like the Superbowl (don’t care) and the Oscars (DO CARE), and countless little milestones to get us through spring. (These little milestones help us get to the next thing, unlike January, which just offers us this blank expanse of blustery cold depression and misery which drags on and on and on, forever.) Personally I find myself more inspired creatively, and more motivated all around. Helloooo, February! 

What am I planning to do, this month, with all of my new found inspiration/motivation?

  • bake Valentine sugar cookies (since the plague made me miss Christmas cookies)
  • order prints to fill my empty frames.
  • a fun/fancy date night with my love.
  • a fun brunch date.
  • mail hand written Valentines.
  • work on a creative project.
  • Michigan weekend.
  • get my hair done.
  • emerge from winter and connect with new people.

What are your plans, for these 28 days?

The darkness and the spice…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay2 Comments

Some months really have the effect of reflecting back over their days and feeling like they themselves lasted a year. This month has been one of those...

Like many, I began the month with goals and plans. I set off January pretty proactively, despite still feeling under the weather. While there were things I put off until I felt better, for the most part I forged forward. One of the lessons that this month held for me what that I am not guaranteed to feel better, no matter how many “right things” I do to ensure it. (thanks, January! You’re a pal.) My list, written in terrible script on my kitchen chalkboard, looked like this…

  • get set up with a trainer and ready to get back into a fitness center routine.
  • reorganize my spice storage.
  • jump back in to The Collective podcast stuff, after a couple of months off.
  • make progress writing on my memoir.
  • learn to do something new.
  • make a pot of homemade soup and a loaf of scratch, crusty bread.
  • establish a weekly evening tradition.
  • continue adjusting to my husband’s non-traveling schedule.

Oh, friends…

Ohhhh, friends…

I could write it a third time, but I still feel like it wouldn’t be enough. There are so many quippy things that one can say about “best laid plans”.

  • I DID! (even feeling crappy!) And it was great, until said trainer had me do an exercise that I felt strongly I should not do. I pulled a muscle, caused major stress to my (bad, seemingly 80-year-old) hip. Good times…
  • I’m sure you’ve seen Marie Kondo’s show on Netflix. While this was already a (desperately needed) goal, her show made me come face to face with the realization that how I had my tiny little cottage kitchen set up was NOT working. I was avoiding it because I felt helpless about how to fix it. Too much stuff/too little space, but try as we might, C and I could not get rid of anything else. We’d downsized so significantly and what remained was essential. It was a bleak 10 day attack. Stress and frustration became my new kitchen decor theme, (shout out to any of you 90’s young homemakers and the need to have a “theme”) and my husband began scripting funny comedy sessions about the ever evolving state of the kitchen. I insta-storied my low moments… It was truly, truly bad. But guess what? My spices are the best their going to get and the entire kitchen really is MUCH better.
  • done and done! We trouble shot some technical things, I connected with other podcasters. We started a Patreon and are REALLY excited about what’s down the road!
  • I did. Not as much as I’d hoped, but I am really proud of what I did put to paper.
  • FAIL. EPIC FAIL.
  • Done. Winter and soup are really the perfect couple. Well, and fresh, crusty bread plays a part, so I guess perhaps the perfect thruple?
  • For the month of January we settled on Fridays and began the routine of unplugging, grabbing carry-out for dinner and renting a movie. We LOVED it… Will it continue? I think so, at least on the Fridays we can.
  • You would be surprised how actually difficult this is…

So, there you go… a little account of my significantly flawed person, in this odd little month.

My truly biggest January lesson/revelation was that while I felt significantly depressed pretty often, I wasn’t alone. I would utter those words to a friend, and hear an emphatic agreement that they too were feeling depressed. This happened several times, and I was surprised, comforted and a little less heavy with each occurrence. It is a little ironic that the very idea of being bravely transparent and then accepting that you aren’t alone is the premise behind my podcast and yet, here I am going WOW! This REALLY works!

This month I read several books, but the book that I really connected with the most was In Pieces, by Sally Field. Truly raw and transparent pages chronicling not only the highest and the darkest moments of her life, but also her own flawed perceptions and reactions. Never soapboxing, Sally simply shares her truths. It was a brave undertaking, and it resonates.

A few things that I unexpectedly fell a little in love with, this month, were the American version of The Masked Singer on Fox, (I am actually pretty good at guessing, and their masks did NOT give me the nightmares I feared, so this is a win!); the film Juliet, Naked, (which I really, really loved and did not expect to even like it!) and this recipe for sheet pan shrimp fajitas. (I thought it would be ok, but we both loved it so much! It was so easy and so delicious!)

The only thing that didn’t really work this month, (other than my continued pursuit of cold medicine, and my waste-of-time new (now ex) physician) was that, in an effort to connect with other women locally, I bought a ticket for a ridiculous book club. The price seemed so extreme ($29) but the original description had made it seem like it came with the book, tapas & beverages at the venue (wine and craft coffee beverages) and so I thought it was worth a try. I received the book in the mail, (not a super great book and seriously the length of a pamphlet) and a little note talking about the food and beverages costing extra. I emailed the organizer to clarify my confusion and it was true, the ticket price simply included the book and (her words) the privilege of coming. Hmmm.

Wasted my time reading the book, wasted my money and decided I simply didn’t want to go waste my time at the actual meeting so I skipped it. You win some, you lose some. This was a definite lose…

How did your January play out? Did it pair nicely with your own goals?

What were your bests? (and equally important, was there something you tried that simply did not work?)

Poptart theology…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay2 Comments

There are no adequate words to express to you just how much I love PopTarts. Well, more accurately, how much I love frosted Strawberry PopTarts. I actually do not care for any other flavor of store bought “toaster pastry” at all, and really only like PopTart when it comes to strawberry. (I do also really enjoy Toaster Strudel cherry, but do not like cherry PopTart or Strawberry Toaster Strudel. I’m a complex girl.)

I went several years avoiding this silly (terrible for you) “breakfast” treat because of the very reason I just mentioned: the are TERRIBLE for you! (All hail the 80’s childhood, where a bowl of sugary cereal became a balanced breakfast once you added a PopTart or toast with jam and a cup of fake orange mystery named after both sunshine and happiness…) Then, a couple of years ago I was sent an article about the top tips for managing a life with Fibromyalgia and one of them was to keep a container by your bedside with easy to eat “comfort foods” for bad flare days, and the TOP suggestion was POPTARTS! This exclusively gave me permission to add them to my grocery cart on my next super market trip. They’ve been making a regular, though not constant, appearance ever since.

I’ll let you in on a few secrets though… First, when PopTarts are in the house, they are my go-to “food”. I’ve never been a big breakfast maker, for just myself, though I have top notch intentions. So, when all of a sudden, late in the morning I realize that I am painfully hungry, what is easiest and handy? PopTart! Hours later I forget all intentionality when it comes to lunch and am once again feeling those terrible hunger pains- PopTart to the rescue. Evening snack? Yep, pretty sure you see where this is headed. Suddenly my box of 12 is gone, never a space-packet of their tasty evil making it to my bedside, which is best because I’d just eat them in bed while Chw was trying to sleep and this is a nightmare of different proportions…

The other day the husband accompanied me to the supermarket and it was by sheer accident that we ended up in the PopTart isle, noticing they were on sale. Here is the conversation that ensued…

M- the 12 count is $2.50. That’s pretty good, right?

C- yes, because the 8 count is $3 Who does the math here?

M- Aren’t you buying an 8 count of Raspberry ones for work?

C- yes. I’ve never had them and they sound like a nice snack. (in all fairness, half the box will be gone by APRIL. this is exactly how PopTarts should be eaten, if they must.)

M- well then I guess it doesn’t matter WHO does the math, because most of the flavors only come in 8 count so people will buy them anyway.

C- you can go through them pretty quick. (yeah. thanks.) I wonder, what about these? (he points to “healthier” options.

M- those are $4 for 8!

C- but they are healthier for you.

M- They are gross.

C- so you’d eat less of them.

M- I’ll just get the 12 count. Remember, they ARE the best Fibro food.

C- I think it’s more like they are the easiest Fibro Flare food, not the best. (here he notices something on the bottom shelf.) What about this 36 count for $6?

M- WHAT?!?!?! That’s a good deal! (no, misty. NO IT ISN’T. This is NOT REAL FOOD…)

C- it is less expense in the long run. Do you want to get them?

I really pondered this, you guys… and here is where the moral of this whole ridiculously humiliating (but pathetically honest) post culminates in something resembling a point:

M- no. No. I mean, I DO want to get them, but I can’t. I can’t because then I will just eat them, and I don’t need to eat 36 PopTarts.

C- I wish they had Raspberry in the 12 count. (notice here how he’s wishing for MORE of the “pastry” he has NEVER tasted, simply on the faith of my own devotion and the not repulsiveness of my PopTarts)

M- I mean, at least we are choosing healthier PopTarts, right? We could be buying the 12 or 36 count of Hot Fudge Sundae or Smores flavor.

C- That’s totally true.

Why?!?!? What is wrong with me? First of all, I completely befell to PopTart shaming, which should be beneath me. More importantly, I was absolutely willing to give myself the frank boundary of not having a ridiculous number of handheld garbage to consume, and pat myself on the back for such a decision. YET- yet I wasn’t willing to not buy them, or buy them for the very reason I allowed them into my diet again in the first place… AND FURTHERMORE why was I wanting to congratulate myself on the fact that at least I wasn’t consuming the crappier crap.

In high school, walking home one day I turned to my best friend (who incidentally was a guy) “I know I’m overweight, but am I as fat as that girl walking ahead of us?” Emphatically, lovingly and protectively he assured me that of course I was not. Of the thousands of lifetime conversations this person and I have had, this is one of the ones that sticks near top of my memory bank. The truth is that his words were meaningless. His guarantee was filtered through his care for me and my feelings, not fact. I asked him because I knew this truth, even if I didn’t want to admit it. (I was a terrible person for asking it in the first place. What did it matter?)

Maybe we are all guilty of allowing “a little to a moderate amount” of garbage in, but standing resolute that the line is drawn and no more, beyond that.

Maybe we allow someone to verbally abuse us, but determine we will not allow physical violence. At least my boyfriend doesn’t hit me like Sally’s does…

At least I’m not covered in bruises like she is…

Sure, my husband goes out for drinks with female coworkers even though he knows it hurts me, but at least he comes home…

Extreme comparisons aside- it is an unhealthy pattern that I see woven throughout SO MANY areas of my life. Just a little, but at least it’s not this kind/much/blah blah blah.

We have to stop.

Loving myself does not mean limiting my PopTarts to when they are on sale alone, it might just mean deciding my body is better than any PopTarts at all. Now Chw with his box of 8 that will last him 3-6 months- he’s ok with the occasional indulgence. He’s good on the PTs, he doesn’t seem to have a problem. Me? I’m pretty great with having anything else around, but put a box of those within my reach and my next meal will be a guarantee.

What is your “PopTart”? (we’ve all got something… something we expect ourselves to tolerate and settle for.)

{oh hey, by the way! Have you listened to the latest episode of the Collective Podcast? This week is a GREAT one! And If you wouldn’t mind, could you please subscribe and give us a rating? We will love you forever! xoxo}

Faithfully…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay1 Comment

It is absolutely acceptable for the Journey song to be running through your mind right now.

Seriously, I get it. It’s a catchy tune and totally applicable. (well, minus the rockstar/long distance relationship stuff.)

Hello, 2019! I can’t even believe it, while also, I 100% can. On one hand, what they say is so true- the older we get, time just goes by so quickly. I understand the science of it, and why that is true. On the other hand though, I feel like the start of 2018 was a lifetime ago. Life… It’s a funny thing.

If you’re around on instagram then you probably saw that my Word of the Year is Faith. The response to this was cautiously supportive. I got a  lot of direct messages that questioned if I have lost my way with Jesus, while others hesitantly asked if I was going to become all churchy in everything I shared… The answer to both us a resounding NO. Doing great with Jesus, thanks for asking, and I can’t imagine (honestly) that much would change regarding what I share anywhere online. (except for the continued goal of being more attentive to this website)

Here’s the thing…

Choosing a word is a very personal process. I’ve shared briefly about the very personal (and often excruciating) chapters, in my life journey, and how they pertain to my yearly words. With each and every word, my personal faith and walk with God has always been affected. (The process us all-encompassing, I don’t think there is an area of my life that has not been affected.) The same goes for this year… While my faith will undoubtedly have a large role in this particular chapter, my word is FAITH, not ‘my faith’.

Faith is the opposite of doubt, the opposite of fear. Faith is synonymous with trust.  Faith is so many, many, many things. Faith is the direction that my life is going, and the area which I need to work on. Faith pertains to my relationships, my health, my mental/emotional clarity, my writing, my finances, my goals, my passions/projects, my work and of course Jesus.

I have a novel of personal goals to work on throughout the year, as I do every year. A handful of these are:

  • finish writing my book.
  • submit a book proposal.
  • take in more sunrises.
  • take the intentional time to cook more and get back to paying attention to what goes into my body.
  • celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary.
  • see some really great concerts/shows.
  • reacquaint myself with learning.
  • embrace (more fervently) sacred activities such as practice, fitness, conversation, prayer, reading, tea drinking and skin care.
  • free creativity.
  • read more/watch less.

By now it is possible that the Journey song has faded and new thoughts have crowded your mind, which is perfect timing because a modestly busy day looms. I look forward to traveling this chapter of life along side of you, and hearing where your journey is taking you…

Letting go, a review…

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

What feels like a lifetime ago, someone gave me advice which I have carried with me as the world transitioned from one year to the next, although to be honest I did not always succeed at applying it. This wisdom encouraged ignoring a list of lofty goals and ambitions for the year to come, and take a true and authentic inventory, on this last day of the year, of where you’re at. Once your task is complete, the next step was to pull out the page(s) you compiled from the year before and then ideally, to bask in the warmth of your accomplishes, growth and progress.

It feels pretty backwards from what our society promotes, regarding New Year behavior, doesn’t it? (in all fairness, I’d like to point out that this is the same collective voice which encourages us to “start new” each January, yet to also carry our baggage and chores re: Christmas, into the new year. I for one do NOT leave my Christmas stuff up because I already operate on this feeling that I am behind and unable to catch up on all that needs to be done so starting a new year off by intentionally leaving tasks to be completed seems self destructive…)

My DNA and enneagram have left me powerless when it comes to the task of writing lists. Therefore, while I can write out my annual assessment of my journey, I am always going to write a list of goals for the new year. They aren’t resolutions, and the certainly won’t all be done, but they operate as a sort of guide to my navigational system. The one thing I DO always do, is a Word of the Year. Though my posting here, this year, has been irregular, anyone who reads here will likely be aware that my “word” of 2018 has been LET GO. After the way words of previous years have taught me, I buckled up for a bumpy, likely brutal ride, and it has been that.

My Let Go journey has been a year of growth. As recently has two months ago I would have said it was a year of loss, but today I can truthfully say that I haven’t actually lost anything. Before I immerse this post into the deep end though, lets tread water and adjust to the temp in the shallow end…

This year I have:

  • drank more cups of coffee, by at least 1/3, than any year prior.
  • worked more, as a writer.
  • gone through more boxes of tissue than ever.
  • read more books than I have in years.
  • considered, beside my husband, relocating to nearly half the country, and realized I was pretty ok with anywhere, as long as his position/company changed. More than anything I just wanted my husband to be in a job where he was respected, encouraged, valued and considered.
  • Moved to, quite possibly, the one place I had never thought of.

There have been a lot of really fun things that happened this year too…

  • I met a TON of really cool people, in various ways.
  • I saw some awesome concerts.
  • I traveled, both with Chw and alone.
  • I explored and fell in love with our new home.
  • I spent quality time with my (adult) kids, though much less than I would have liked.
  • I started a podcast journey, which has connected me with some of the strongest and most inspirational women I’ve ever met.
  • I had a year of documenting moments with my Instax camera, instead of my phone. (I liked the intentionality of having to carry a bulky camera, invest in this film, only get one shot, etc.)
  • I played games, went wine tasting, explored new cities, saw movies, laughed and did so many more things with my good friends.

And some really hard things…

  • We moved into a tiny cottage (which we LOVE) and had to part with more possessions than I ever could have imagined. (in this way, Let Go took shape in ways I hadn’t expected.)
  • Thanks to some hardships which resulted in heavy, unexpected debts, we are two years into a five year program that results in more financial struggle than anything. While it feels like it is lasting a lifetime, throwing a relocation into the mix of that has been a daily challenge.
  • I lost a friendship that, had i imagined the loss would come, would have seemed devastating. For a minute it felt like it was going to be, but then the reach of her gossip and ugly behavior found it’s way to me and I realized it was more a growth pain than a loss one. Once I stepped further outside of that relationship I began to feel the weight of her negativity and constant criticism fall to the side. Good things do not always look like good things, but give them time and be willing to see the good.

So many years ago, someone who I believed was my very best friend got married. We had been friends since middle school, and were young adults at this point. Due to circumstances her wedding was quick. There were a few hours between where we each lived, and this was back in the day when handwritten letters or expensive long distance calls were the only way to maintain relationships over the miles. With a nearly non-existant support system, Chw and I were very young newlyweds making due with what we had, and barely doing so, at that. She and I had a few calls where she cried about spending a lot of time home alone, while her new husband went to school and work, and how she missed tv…

Her wedding reception was at her parents house, even farther from where I lived. Even so, this was my BEST friend… So, Chw, my sister and I loaded ourselves into the car and drove to this wedding reception. I came humbly with my pic’n’save gift, (although beautifully wrapped) in hand. It took us hours to drive to this event, and would take us hours to drive home. The trip, and even the cheap gift, beyond exceeded anything we could afford. My attitude to this truth was that it didn’t matter because this girl was my BEST FRIEND, and you love your people HARD and with action. (We also had out little, nothing speacial, yard sale tv in the back seat, because my friend needed a TV and I could go without.)

I barely saw her, for the 90 minutes we were at this reception where we knew pretty much no one. When I did see her, she asked about the tv I’d promised. When I lovingly assured her I had it, she told us to meet her at her apartment the next day. Of course I said yes, because this girl was my BEST FRIEND, and you love your people HARD and with action and all, even though there were hours between here and home and we were probably over drafted at the bank due to this little adventure… (which I realize isn’t anyone’s fault but mine. There’s a point to this story, sit tight!) We crashed with people we knew, closer to her apartment and it was all working out so well because I knew that I was a good friend, and I felt truly great about that… Fast forward to meeting my friend at her apartment…

Her apartment furnished with new furniture, her mountain of high end wedding gifts to the side. As my wonderful husband carried this heavy tv- (you know, back when tvs were not made of air) up to her third floor apartment, she giddily escorted us past all of the new and shiny (including their big screen tv in the living room) to her bedroom, where she’d cleared a spot for this tv.

There were no thank you’s, not for coming, not for anything really. The saddest thing about it all though, was when I chided myself for having hurt feelings because I am a good friend and that would be selfish. Don’t be a selfish friend, Misty! (No, we are not still friends. Our friendship died not long after that, when I realized the only one gaining anything in our friendship was her. She was also often asking for more…)

Pretty sad, isn’t it?

  • The biggest lesson of my Let Go journey is that, for as long as I can remember, THAT PATTERN has been in play. Love “my” people, and love them hard. Roll over and give them anything, regardless of whether it was a season of hardship or a season of blessing. I’ve seen this play out with my parents, with numerous friendships and in my own motherhood. While there is truth that relationships take sacrifice and selflessness, the consequences of a lifetime of this pattern are that I have enabled many people to not have to take me into consideration.
  • This was a painful thing to really see, and an overwhelming self-realization to face.

This journey has held so much more than what I have shared here, but this documents the just of it… Now, it’s time for me to go make a nurturing brunch and spend the day closing out this amazingly complex and yet beautiful year with this man I share a life with. I am so grateful for all of the good moments, and every single one of the bad. Also I am so grateful for each one of you reading this, supporting me and being along for the journey! Here’s to an amazing 2019, i am eager to see what it holds for each of us…