If you missed yesterday’s post – Part 1 of Love, Marriage and Baby #2 – you can catch up by clicking here

I vividly remember sitting in our premarital counseling session {we started the day after we eloped!} and our pastors talking to us about expectations. We were given a packet of homework that involved a questionnaire about life in our house growing up, what we thought about the division of household chores, who paid the bills, how fights were to be handled, what romance looks like to us… from large to small, so many categories were covered. We were to fill out the questionnaire individually and then talk about it.

I guess the idea was to get us to state all of our {known} expectations upfront. I remember thinking it was fun and informative, and a great conversation. I was learning so much about Brad every single day, and it was an adventure. Expectations, known or unknown – stated or silent, didn’t scare me.

You see, expectations are a part of every marriage. Both individuals come into the marriage expecting certain things, certain behaviors, certain standards. For example, I expect that in my marriage we operate as a team – always. I expect that we present a united front, to not only our children but also our friends and family. I expect the guy to empty the trash and mow the lawn. I could care less if the toilet seat is left up… I could go on and on.

We all could.

Brad, for example, came into this marriage expecting to be ‘the man of the house’. But, what that means to him is completely different than what it means to most people. To Brad, being ‘the man of the house’ means to make my life as easy as possible. In fact, I once described being married to Brad feeling “as if I was just floating through life while he goes in front of me and goes behind me and just makes my life easier.” He’s amazing like that.

I know this is going to sound foreign to so many people – but in our house, there is no expectation that dinner is cooked and the house is clean when Brad comes home from work. If dinner is cooked and/or the house cleaned, it’s because I love Brad and I want to speak his love language. Period. Don’t read that ‘if’ like it’s in italics. Dinner is cooked quite often these days by yours truly. I can’t speak for a clean house.. except for Fridays. I digress.

Here’s the beauty of my marriage… we both love to serve the other person.

When Brad was home recovering from surgery there was one drastic difference in the operations around the house, a pretty obvious one: Brad was out of commission and therefore the weight of running the house rested entirely on my shoulders… and conflict, for the most part, was removed from the situation. It took me a while to realize what exactly it was that removed conflict from our day to day interactions, and then one day it dawned on me: I’d let go of all my expectations of Brad.

You see, there was no expectation on my part that Brad would help with the kids. No expectation that he would be my relief, so to speak. Wait… not ‘so to speak’. My relief. My first break at the end of a 9 hour day. There was no expectation that he would clean anything {this is more on his end of expectations than mine… I benefit from his not cleaning because my stuff is in the same place as I left it.} And, finally, no expectation that he would have a ton of patience with the kids because he works outside of the house 8+ hours a day and should have fresh patience for the kids.

We’re not talking big things here, people, we’re talking small things… that when combined can build on top of each other until the smallest thing can set you off. Like, loading up the kids {and all the stuff that entails}, corralling an ever so slowly moving toddler to the car, juggling bags and babies as you reach for the car door and finding it to be locked even though you know you left it unlocked yesterday when you came home. {Yes, I leave my car unlocked…. you can take the girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. No lectures, please. I promise you I have no intention of changing. } You can imagine how frustrating that is when you know have to keep the toddler out of the busy street while you shift the baby to the other hip, drop whatever else is in your hands onto the trunk, call for your toddler who is now out of sight, rummage through your purse searching for the pocket that you always put your keys in while trying to shift your body so that your baby can’t reach your earring because for once you tried to look decent upon exiting your house, finally getting the car keys and getting everybody in the car.

Big deal? No. Not even close. Searching for keys doesn’t even put you behind schedule for more than a minute…

Frustrating? Yes. Which leads to a phone call to work that goes like this: “Brad, please… for the love of God if you go behind me and change something that I specifically left a certain way. Tell me. I don’t care that you did it, I care that you didn’t tell me. I know how I leave things and I expect for them to be that way the next time I use it.” Brad – “Sorry, I’m the big asshole that likes locked car doors”. Me – “You’re not an asshole. Just don’t lock the freaking door and not tell me.”

See… this is where communication and unmet expectations join hands and create a whole lot of fun for everybody involved. And, when my expectation changed towards how the house is run {meaning: the house became my domain and I felt more in control of running it} we started having issues with me expecting things to be where I left them. Brad, is forever going behind me and changing things up. Which is fantastic when he’s the one who remembers to bring my phone along on our outing and not so great when he’s washing all our bathing suits and we’re about to get ready to go to the beach. {That happened just this morning.} And, I know what you’re thinking… people wish that their husbands would do stuff around the house. I’m not complaining… at all. I’m saying that we need to communicate… we’re butting heads because two people are trying to do the same job. And, really, because I’m trying to take the role that Brad’s had for the past 3 years.

I mentioned yesterday that one of the things I’ve struggled with is if Brad comes home from work and within 20 or 30 minutes is snapping at Zoe. I’m not used to Brad not being the patient one. On any given day, Brad’s patience tends to be unending. I marvel at him, really. But, sometimes in this transition, juggling two kids gets to him. And, when Zoe is smack dab in the middle of being two it can be immensely frustrating. I get it. Of course I do… hello, it’s my life. So, the days when Zoe is smack dab in the middle of being two I have a ton of grace for myself to be frustrated and short-tempered. After all, I’ve been dealing with it for hours on end and a girl can only take so much. But Brad? No. Brad had better walk through those doors bright eyed and bushy-tailed ready to be a superhero who’s super power is an unending supply of patience. Oh, I can’t even tell you how mad I’ve gotten over him not being patient with Zoe.

Is that fair? No, absolutely not.

But, it’s reality.

The last area where we’ve consistently struggled is probably a little more unique to our lives, but worth stating nonetheless, is Brad taking over in the evenings when I need to work on photography, or my foundation job. Let me be perfectly clear here: Brad is 150% more than willing to step in and take over. This issue has more to do with communication than anything else. In the past, I was saying, “I have a lot of work to do tonight” and Brad would say, “Ok”. Then 20 minutes later I would say, “Do you think the kids should get baths tonight?” and Brad would say, “probably” and then still be doing the dishes, or the laundry, or cleaning bathrooms. {Which never ceases to baffle me a)that he’s so good around the house and b) that he thinks he can achieve a clean house while kids are awake.} So I would stop what I was working on and bathe the kids, fuming the whole time – because in my mind, the evening schedule should be the same regardless of who is in charge.

Here’s what I should have said, “I have to work tonight, so the kids are all you. I don’t care if they get baths or not. I don’t care if they go to bed in pj’s or not. But, I do care that I see movement towards bedtime otherwise I’ll feel like I have to pitch in and help and I can’t do that tonight.”

Here’s an even better solution: I leave and go to Panera, which is 2 minutes up the road, and trust that my husband is a capable dad who knows how to get kids into bed. This solution just became available to us last week when Slade started taking a bottle! It will be used much more often.

We actually just ran into this two weeks ago when I needed to edit during naptime. One of Brad’s expectations/dreams/wishes/desire/whathelivesforontheweekends is a nap. Brad loves naps. He writes them on the calendar. But, that particular day, I’d said that I needed to edit because I had to deliver pictures the next day, the house went down for a nap – and then Zoe didn’t take one. I told her to go in and sleep with Brad, thinking that would clue him in that she was awake and he needed to be on. It didn’t. Zoe came back out with me and ‘helped’ me edit, then got bored, and by the end of naptime for Brad and Slade, she was drawing on the wall with a Sharpie Marker. Which ticked me the heck off. We managed to make it out of the house to whatever function we were going to that night and in the car, when I could sort through my frustrations, this conversation happened:

“Brad, I need to over-communicate right now. I think the thing that ticked me off the most is not the Sharpie on the wall, it’s that I told you I needed to edit. When I say that, I have the expectation that you take care of anything that comes up with the kids. And if that means you miss a nap, then you miss a nap. When it’s left to me to edit AND take care of kids, I can’t do it and then Sharpie marker ends up on a wall. It’s why I don’t work when the kids are awake. I haven’t ever fully stated my expectation before, but I’m doing it now.”

And, here’s the beauty of my husband… now that he knows, he’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen and not just meet my expectation – but exceed them.

Tomorrow, we move on to Part 3 – the solution

Happy Thursday Ya’ll!

PS… All of these new expectations are definitely new

Ah… the much anticipated ‘Love and Marriage and Baby #2′ post in which I get candid about life in the ‘H’ house right now. I’ve written this post about 4 times now, fully – from start to finish – and I hit ‘trash’ after it sits in my inbox for weeks {or months} on end. Because, the thing is… I can’t tell what parts of our story are a) ours, and not to be fully laid bare and b) the parts that are just there because of our personalities and the parts that are common to marriage with 2 small kids.

But, let’s just jump in and see where the pieces land. Shall we?

Recently, Brad was out of work for two weeks recovering from eye surgery, and when we first learned that he was going to be home that long, truth be told… we were both nervous. ‘Will we fight constantly’ was the big question on both of our minds – because for about 8 months, weekends have been pretty rough. Instead, what we experienced was a delightful two weeks that felt like a vacation {with a healthy dose of ‘post-op’ fully present at all times}. It was lovely, really. And when I got to thinking about it, I realized that two big elements that cause the most tension were removed: poor communication and unmet expectations.

Today, we’re talking about the big ‘C’ word.

It’s no secret that Brad and I are complete opposites. As opposite as opposite can get. Where I’m a ‘go-with-the-flow’ kinda gal, he is not. Where he can get uber frustrated, take a few deep breaths, walk away from the situation and upon his quick return be back to normal… I can not. I tend to book my calendar weeks in advance where Brad is fully content not leaving the house for several days on end. When it comes to kids, I’m more lenient and ‘if it won’t require a trip to the ER’ I’ll probably allow it… Brad has a hard time catching his breath when Zoe jumps off the couch.

You get the idea…

But, in general, I think that people think other people think like them. Can I say ‘think’ one more time? I think so. It’s called ‘assuming’ – and everybody does it. From minor things – like assuming that everybody knows toilet paper should go with the toilet paper unrolling towards the person rather than the wall. To bigger things – like assuming that your husband would figure out that if you wake up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning to edit pictures, it must be because you have to deliver them that day.

I assure you – people face their toilet paper to the wall, and there was a Saturday morning ruined in our house because of lack of communication.

If you and I were sitting down to coffee {Diet Coke} and we started talking about marriage {which I’m apt to do these days} I would tell you that right now my marriage is in a valley… and that valleys are ok, and they’re normal. I would tell you that we’re having a really hard time communicating. That we assume the other person is reading between the lines of what we’re not saying…when, in fact, they are almost always NOT reading between the lines… and so what’s left unsaid – even if it’s as simple as a request that doesn’t include ‘I don’t care when you do it’ – can be the breeding ground for resentment, sarcastic jabs and hurt feelings.

I would tell you that we’re tired… but that there’s more on our plate than ever before. That two kids is more than double the work – and while that felt natural to me, it wasn’t so natural for Brad {the exact opposite of our response to becoming parents}. I would say that what I intuitively know because I spend 40 hours a week with the kids by myself, Brad – who only gets to spend a few hours a day with kids, and it’s not the easiest 2 hours of the day to spend with them, doesn’t know…. and that causes tension. And, it’s a tension I don’t have much grace for… because for whatever reason I feel like a) he should know this and b) what the heck is he stressed about??? I’m the one who’s been home with the kids all day long.

Fair? No.

Life? Yes.

If I have to narrow it down, I would say that for us the vast majority of miscommunication involves how our days are planned vs how they actually end up being and not being involved in each others day. Does that make sense? Brad is a planner’s planner. He goes to bed making plans. On our honeymoon {in September} he asked me what my siblings might want for Christmas… but I’m the one who controls the schedule in our house. I’m the one who knows what’s happening on the weekends and while I tell Brad ahead of time and write everything on a calendar that’s hanging on a wall…somehow, he never quite knows what’s happening that day. And, to confuse him even more, if there are readjustments that need to be made {and there almost always are because hello we’re parents to 2 small children and things almost NEVER go according to plan} – I do them in my head – and almost always just assume that he knows the day had to get adjusted. Almost always – he doesn’t. And almost always – that doesn’t go over smoothly.

As far as not being involved in each others day… that’s really on my end. This stay-at-home-mom gig became like a real job to me when I brought Slade home from the hospital. I began to really love it, and find purpose in it. Yes, days are hard. Sure. Of course they are. The easiest day can still be exhausting. But, I’m finding myself here. Remember how I said this transition to 2 kids wasn’t that natural to Brad? To be honest, this stage kinda stresses him out and when he lashes out at something that’s a part of our day to day lives {like toys}, I take it personal. Or when he deletes Zoe’s favorite tv show on the DVR I say, “what the crap were you thinking??” rather than, “hey, um… you’re not allowed to delete things that don’t pertain to you. Deal?” Or when I have a huge accomplishment and try to share it with him and don’t get the reaction I’m expecting – my heart sinks and I pull into myself rather than try again. Or I clean for 2 hours so that Brad comes home to a clean house and it goes unnoticed. It leaves me feeling disconnected and distant, like we’re on two separate pages. And, when I feel disconnected and distant rather than push through, I retreat even further into myself – which stresses Brad out, then he gets snappy, then I get snappy and we’re back in the rabbit hole.

And, so… weekends haven’t really been a whole lot of fun around here. It’s not that this goes on all day, as a personality trait… we both hate tension – but, while Brad can get over a disagreement very quickly, I take a little longer to get back to normal. Not that I’m holding a grudge, it’s more just like fighting with my husband depresses me. Add to that, we’ve never been here before. This is the first bump in our marriage… and so neither one of us really know how to deal with it. For months, Brad ignored it while I just cried about it over and over again.

That Saturday I mentioned earlier? That day was the breaking point for us – the culmination of everything that was going wrong and all the areas that we were ‘off’ happening at the same time. It ended up being a really rough morning and a really great afternoon… and you know what happened that turned it around?

We were so flustered and so frustrated that we just started laughing.

And then we went back over the morning and said every single thing we thought the other person would assume that wasn’t assumed and we laughed. We looked at each other and said, “Damn. We’re are not doing too good in the communication department right now, so let’s go in the other direction. Let’s over communicate.” And that’s what we’re trying to do more of every day, and every time we’re running into the ruts that have become so common. I kid you not, we say ‘Let’s over communicate right now.’ and then we sit down and say everything that we think the other person should ‘know’ because in our brains it’s a fact.

But, this is only one part of the problem. The other half is expectation… and we’ll get into that tomorrow.

Part 3, the solution, is going to be my favorite part…

Happy Wednesday Ya’ll!