Veering Off the Path

Ugh! This last week was hard for me. I don’t know if was depressed about not returning to Ohio for a while or fighting off a virus … mostly likely a bit of both.

So excuse the belated blog post. Last weekend (May13-15) was awesome! Friday I met up with the hubs in CVG (the boat’s been in Charleston for the last few weeks, so we had to fly in separate). My parents pick us up and after a quick change of clothes, we watched the Reds win while I consumed two LARGE pieces of LaRosa’s pizza that I had been talking about for weeks! The game was followed by Rozzi fireworks and a concert of what is left of CCR. AND we even make it on the jumbo-tron!

The hubs, me and my parents sportin' our Reds gear

Saturday was Kimmy’s wedding. She looked gorgeous!!!!!

KimmyJo walking down the aisle looking soooooo pretty!

Mark and I had a blast dancing and eating cake (we even scored an extra piece! Yeah!).

It was a bit strange being back in Cincinnati, as it was the first time I felt like I was an outsider. I don’t know if that’s the right word. I LOVED being with the girls, but maybe it was a realization that my life isn’t on the same path as theirs. Somehow in my naivety, I always figured my friends and I would hold hands, skipping down the same yellow-bricked (… actually, hot pink) road of life. It’s not like we don’t all want the same things: career, spouse, house, dogs, kids, etc., it’s just that some are more on the same path while others are checking the boxes in a different order.

Here are some of the wonderful ladies. I heart them!

It was an awakening. Mark and I aren’t in market for owning a house, and we are nowhere near the vicinity of having kids, and while the other half of the girls are focused on their careers, I am back in school. By the time I finish my program and take my boards I will be nearing the big three-0. Not a big deal, except while most of my friends will have spent last eight or nine years advancing their careers, I will just be starting out … again. :(

And while Mark and I have been tossing ideas of where to live after I graduate (Charleston? NC? VA?), I know moving back to Ohio isn’t an option (unless by the grace of God, some tugboat company offers Mark a barge-side of a pay check. Even then, I doubt Mark will be content living so far inland). Knowing that cements that I will no longer even have the possibility of being on their path.

I do know that along my path, Mark and I will find somewhere to settle. Someday when we entertain the idea of parenting, there will be other people around that will be in the same situation, and our paths will merge. I guess being back home was a bit of a farewell. I will only be back for holidays or special occasions – not as easy to just hang out anymore.

I am grateful for the experiences I have been afforded. While I like to think that I always took full advantage of opportunities presented to me, my life in the last three years has been quiet an adventure. I have worked on a boat, been to exotic islands, moved across country, to a city that might as well be in another country … and managed to not get into an accident or completely lost while navigating the "Survivor"-esque roads of Miami. I entered a Master’s program that is WAY different than my previous journalism degree and joined Junior League, so I could feel like I am making a difference in my new "home," whether I’m feel completely home or (more likely) not.

I don’t know if I would have had all these opportunities, and those that await, if I stayed in Cincinnati. I also don’t know if I would have been content not knowing what could be out there. So yeah, my path is veering away from my friends. Which sucks because they are amazing women who make me feel so wonderful that I am writing a blog because it bothers me how much I miss them. And as a control freak I’m a bit envious that a lot of them seem to have settled down, while my future is so unsettled.

I know that more than anything I am so grateful for these women. I want when I say, “Please let me know if I can help,” to it mean more than just words. I want to be able to babysit, help them move, go out to eat or to a movie or sit and talk ... and not have to have it be crammed into a few hours in a way-too-short weekend.

Ugh! No wonder I was so exhausted last week. On a more positive note, my next post will be about my pups. And, I am already plotting two extra trips back to the O-hi-o before the end of summer. They girls may not get away from me that easily after all :)

Wedding Weekend!

I am off to Cincinnati for the weekend! I am super excited to get back to town.

When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to get out of Ohio. I wanted to move to the coast, live on the beach and have a never-ending summer …. Funny how life works out. Now, on most days I would give up the sun and sand to get back to the rolling hills of landlocked Ohio. (Not to mention friends and family, of course.)

I mean, who wouldn’t want to see this skyline on a regular basis?

I will only be in town for a hot minute for my high-school friend, KimmyJo’s wedding. I haven’t seen her since my bachelorette party last summer, and it’s been almost five months since I’ve seen the other girls.

KimmyJo a few years back :)

A few years ago I had a tons wedding over the spring and summer. Now I just have one. And while I’m sad I don’t get to see my friends often enough, I’m also bummed I don’t get to dress up as often.

I’d like to say that what Miami fashion lacks in class, it makes up for in imagination, but if you’ve been here, you know nothing worn in this town leaves anything to the imagination (Mainly because it’s too bloody hot to actually wear clothing.)

The dress I’m wearing to Kimmy’s wedding I’ve had for two years, tags still on. I could never figure out the right place to wear it. But Kim’s wedding reception is at the beautiful Taft Museum and I figure this dress finally found its place in a spring evening wedding.

Here are a few other picks I would wear if I had more places to be seen (Girls, get married. My closet depends on it!)

Central Park West $107

Free People, $188

VOOM $173

Also, on my trip back from DAY on Monday, I saw a girl with these:

Obsessed!

Luckily, I have an awesome husband who, for my birthday in December, bought me a huge make up case filled with tons of little goodies, including the OPI mini-nail polishes from Sephora. And guess what color happened to be supplied? I will be definitely sportin’ some neon this weekend.

We are UD!!!

It was a whirlwind of a weekend. I went back to Ohio to celebrate my youngest brother, Eric, graduating from the University of Dayton. It’s my alma mater too, as well as my other two brothers.

I flew into Dayton Saturday morning and I immediately felt at home back on Ohio soil.

I talked to a grumpy Mark earlier that day. So when I passed by the airport gift shop selling “Nothing Tips Like A Cow: Ohio” T-shirts, I immediately bought HIS and HERS. It’s silly but you can’t help but laugh a little when you see it. Plus, I must represent down here.

My brother’s house had a graduation party. Of course, all of you in Ohio have been rained out for the last few weeks, and the party was no exception. Even with a tent, the ground was a pool. Luckily my brilliant cousins, and their spouses, all UD grads, decided to wait out the rain by playing flip-cup. (Apparently there was flip-cup at our wedding as well … I’m sad I missed it). My brother Brett came in from Chicago with some of his roommates, who also happened to be UD grads. At the end of the night it was the alums, not the current graduates, who had the party going.

Sunday started with graduation. After a quick lunch and a few Mother’s Day mimosas, Brett returned to Chicago and my parents helped Eric finish packing his room. I decided to go for a literal stroll down memory lane (plus, I was not going to use the bathroom in my brother's disgusting Ghetto house).

UD hold such a special place in my heart. It was so unique; a place where friends really are family. It made me a bit sad to walk around campus, and slightly jealous of those who still get to go to school there.

I thought I’d include a few pictures of this beautiful piece of paradise.

My house senior year!

St. Joseph's Hall, where I spent almost every day

Lit up for Christmas on Campus.

Positively Counting the Days

Wow! What a historic weekend: Miss Kate became Princess, Pope John Paul II was beatified and Osama bin Laden was killed (p.s. I read this somewhere that Hitler also was declared dead on May 1. Spooky, eh?).

This weekend also marked the official start of the yacht season for Mark and me. On Sunday, Mark drove 10 hours, back to the boat in Charleston. From now on, he’ll be traveling up the coast, and we’ll return to our “just visiting” marriage status.

It’s always depressing seeing him leave (I think Martini has a harder time, realizing that it’s one car ride he’s not going on). And though I much rather have him here, yesterday I was trying to think of positive things about this time apart.

What?! You're not taking me with you?

Don't go!

1. I get the WHOLE bed.

Mark is a tall man; he doesn’t fit in just any old bed (Made evident when we were at my parents home for Christmas, where my old bed is stationed. It's a queen and homeboy’s feet hang well off the edge!) So we bought an amazingly comfortable California King bed. It’s an awesome bed, and it’s where the pups and I hang out when Mark isn’t home. All three of us spread out and relax as we watch our favorite TV shows (see #3).

Who wouldn't want to share a bed with these two?

The most amazing night's sleep ever!

2. I have a hair station.

We are lucky enough to have a beautiful apartment with a HUGE bathroom that has HIS and HERS sinks. And when Mark is gone, it becomes HERS and HER HAIR STUFF sinks.

3. I can watch my trashy TV shows.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE reality TV. Specifically, I LOVE Biggest Loser (obviously a tear-jerker, not so much trashy), Bethenny Ever After (can I BE her?!), Teen Mom, 16 and Pregnant, and ALL The Real Housewives of …. It’s guilty-pleasure, embarrassed-to-admit-it, trashy reality TV. And no judgment or rolling of the eyes sitting next to me.

4. I get to count down ‘til I see him again!

As much as I love Mark being here, there is always a timeline in the back of my head. It’s terrible to live life waiting for a departure date. We’ve done it a million times, and I know it’s temporary, but it never gets easier. However, the “most positive” thing about Mark being gone is that I get to look forward to seeing him again!

… Which luckily won’t be that long, as we "rendezvous" in Cincinnati for my friends wedding in just a few weeks. I am so looking forward to being back home and seeing all my girlfriends. We always pick up right were we left off, even in spite of marriages and babies and living states apart.

The Dress

I’m sorry to say that I will be one of the one’s with their alarm set for 4 a.m. on Friday. Whether or not I will be up, I’m not sure. But somewhere in between sleeping and waking I am DYING to see Kate Middleton’s wedding dress.

There are speculations on how she will dress. Traditional? Stylish? A hint of Diana?

Most assume it will be a British designer, so I have Googled the designers mentioned. While Bruce Oldfield is out, I still LOVE his designs. They are so elegant and simple; I will I could have had him as my designer. Check out this two piece beautiful creation:

It reminds me a bit of Princess Raina’s dress. (I DIE over the jacket.)

Another name drop was Libelula designer Sophie Cranston, but frankly her designs seem too causal for a royal wedding. Kate’s favorite designer is Issa London, but they’ve never done a wedding dress before. Another contender, who I have also fallen for is Phillipa Lepley. Check out the back of this dress?

How perfect for a nautical wedding?

Apparently Vivienne Westwood is another candidate, though maybe a bit too much for the palace. We all remember the Carrie dress? I don’t want to get too carried away because I think I would be devastated if it wasn't VW.

I have a feeling Kate will wear something form fitting; she tends towards body hugging clothing to begin with. She has lost a lot of weight and unless it’s stress (which could be. I freaked out with 200 people watching me, I can’t imagine the world!) I’m sure she’s gearing up for something that resembles a dress, not a big fluffy cupcake.

Um, did I mention her parents offered up the $434,000 price tag for the soon-to-be-memorable dress?

I have my own predictions. I leave you with some queen-worthy styles that the everyday princess-bride can afford.

Justin Alexander's Grace Kelly Masterpiece

Love Amsale

Audrey Hepburn wore a short dress

Justin Alexander's (#8465) modern day Audrey Dress

Of course I had to include a something pink

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter!

Easter marks the first holiday Mark and I have spent just the two of us!

Easter is my favorite holiday. As a Christian, it’s obviously one of the most important, as it is the foundation of our entire belief system. But it’s also one of those holidays where there is no expectations.

It’s a bit bittersweet, as any holiday without close family feels a bit little strange. While Mark and I headed to church this morning, it was weird not seeing EVERYONE dressed up. Cincinnati is so traditional, and I miss that in south Florida.

My family’s tradition usually include Sunday mass (I’ll throw in my inter-dominational service Saturday night), my brothers complain about getting dressed up, all four of us are fighting over who gets the shower next and struggle to get a spot in the mirror. After church we either hit up the country club or Dad makes the infamous holiday-only casserole while us “kids” (we are all well over 20) search for our Easter Baskets; baskets filled with Esther Price, BonBonerie cookies, and Jelly Bellys.

During Pre-Cana one of the speakers talked about making new traditions as a married couple. This Easter is our first opportunity to decide on how we want to celebrate a holiday, which is the sweet part.

We went to Good Friday service, visited the “Vatican Splendors” art exhibit at the Ft. Lauderdale Art Museum and went to service this morning (… which we were an hour early for. We were running “so late” I didn’t have time to double-check the time, of course.). I made brunch, complete with mimosas. (I even wore my fancy apron one of my besties gave me for my birthday, thanks Melz!).

My fancy & stylish apron from Anthropologie Love it!

AND! After seven months of marriage, we FINALLY got to use our “fancy” dinnerware, platters, bowls and serving utensils! I even got a little flash with a tablecloth and broke out my old, inner yachtie stewardess and prettied-up some table settings.

table setting

Our first Easter table! & my handsome husband

It was a fantastic, champagne-y late lunch (… I rarely cook, so it took me a while). We ate on our balcony, which has such a amazing view Mark and I couldn’t believe we didn't eat out there more often. Most people would kill to vacation here, and we are blessed enough to live here (yes, I did say I feel blessed to live in SoFla … maybe it’s the mimosas and the Cadbury eggs).

Even Martini and Morgan got some Easter-loot.

And now we continue our celebration of tradition-making by ordering an Easter pizza :)

I hope your Easter was just as blessed as ours!

Morgan getting her basket

"Paw"

Martini checking out the Bunny Loot

The Great Outdoors

Inspired by a sermon from our church in Ohio, Mark decided he wanted to put away the computer, turn off the TV and get back to living simply. Insert, an impromptu camping in SW Florida.

Two hours west of Miami lies the Collier-Seminole State Park. Mark organized us a drive up campsite and although we weren’t backpacking, I insisted we “rough” it as much as we could. We packed up our spanking new camping gear, the bare essentials of food and clothing and the pups and headed west.

(Little did we know, our neighbors had fans around their campsites, Christmas lights, stereo systems, gourmet foods and cooking items. Whatever happened to cooking a hotdog on a stick?)

our campsite

Unfortunately it wasn’t as picturesque as we had planned. Our assigned campsite was infested by wasp. I panicked (I have a history with yellow jackets), refusing to move anywhere near the flying spawns of Satan, which meant Mark was left with heavy lifting. After a lot of work and even more sweat, our tent was up and a fire was started.

Surprisingly, we didn't take into account that spring in the swamp brings out bugs. With the wasp and the increasing number of brown flies, Mark decided to make a trip to the ranger station for more fire wood and a quick pass by the gas station near to pick up bug spray. The ranger told us we could move campsites. Luckily, the site next to us was open and wasp-free. A few trips back and forth we were once again ready to relax.

We literally puddled sitting in front of our tent. The dogs were constantly getting tangled up. I didn’t bring any long pants because it’s effing hot in Florida; thought it would have been nice to be protected from the ‘squitos. A veggie burger fell into the fire. Half the campsite was rented to a Cuban family reunion, and if you didn't know Cubans are loud: loud talking, loud music blaring (Christina Aguilera, the Spanish version), lots of people and a huge pig turning over a spit.

Nothing was going right.

Martini's not into the camping

Tangled.

Morgan exploring

The night cooled off a bit, and lucky the campsites had restrooms with showers. After an ice cold shower we were able to jump into the tent. We just started relaxing, when Morgan gave a warning bark. The yacht captain in Mark sprung into action, flicking on his flashlight on a raccoon scouring our campsite (the bandit was actually really cute and really clean. I kept wondering how he was so clean and I had to scrub the dirt off me after camping for only half a day).

In the morning, Mark attempted to make me fresh coffee. Unfortunately the press didn't work and the coffee ended up more like silt water. We called it quits, packed up quickly and went on a hunt for anyplace that had decent coffee.

We did spend the rest of the afternoon at the dog beach then drove back to Miami.

On another note, this past weekend marked three years together for Mark and me. I didn't realize it until Monday night (See how romantic I am?). But it’s actually quite fitting we had a disastrous camping trip … after all everything we’ve done has never been easy.

Survival Guide

For years (yikes! I can’t believe it’s been almost three!), Mark and I have been desperately trying to find a hobby to do together.

After spending our first year traveling, sitting on the couch under the same roof, chowing on pizza was romantic. However, Mark and I are not sit at home types. Yes, we prefer low-key nights, but we want to feel like we took the life out of the daytime.

So what did we come up with?

Camping!!! What better way to strengthen your bond than with getting lost and fighting over starting a fire? Honestly, I love camping, so I'm excited Mark is as excited as me.

This is just my new stuff – Mark has a whole separate bag full of mini pots and cups, a Jet Boil and a pocket chain saw just in case we need to Swiss Family Robinson it.

Mark has been religiously watching Man vs. Wild and even bought a Bear Grylls survival knife (… it’s actually pretty cool) as well as a Bear Grylls shirt (which apparently can be used to make a “survival rope” for quicksand if such a need arises) and Bear Grylls pants (with a glorified Ziploc pocket pouch for all the items you don’t want to get wet on the "slippy" rocks).

When he reads this, he probably thinks I’m making fun of him, but his all-hands-on-deck, jumping-in-head-first, balls-to-the-walls enthusiasm is something I love about him.

We had tried other hobbies; two months into dating he surprised me with a motorcycle helmet for his Honda CBR 1000. As a girl that carries extra hairspray and a teasing comb in her purse, a helmet isn’t the most ideal gift. Mark’s a SCUBA instructor, so I have a pretty pink snorkel and mask (used once) and a brand new wet suit hanging in the closet (used zero). We did lucked out with paddle boarding. However once I moved off the boat, my paddle board went into storage and has yet to be seen.

And unfortunately Florida doesn’t boast the most rugged terrain, so in order to really test out our “survival” gear we’ll have to make a trip.

I really want to find a hiking/camping trail that allows dogs, because how cute would Martini be wearing one of these?

Heart of the Money Matter

This past weekend I drove up to meet Mark and the boat in West Palm Beach. WPB is a super cute little town –everything is new and so Floridian. While relaxing on Sunday, Mark took me to the outdoor shopping mall. After not finding a place to cut Mark’s hair and a lunch at Panera (something I’ve seriously missed since moving down here), we walked into Macy’s.

As we past the designer purses, Mark suggested I get one. On cue, the sales lady popped up over the display cased and just happened to mention everything is 25% off. Of course “SALE” is my kryptonite. I meandered around the locked bags trying a few on and finally pick one. As the final price popped up and Mark paid, my knees when weak and I immediately regretted my moment of lapsed judgment.

See, I have a thing about Mark spending a large amount of money on me because I still see it as “his” money – not “ours.” Mark works, I go to school. Mark earns money, I don’t. It’s his money. Though Mark begs to differ.

Since day one, Mark has always said what is his is mine. (I would have offered the same, but all I came into the relationship with was 20 pairs of heels and a very large Chihuahua).

When we began dating, I didn't mind Mark paying because he had no other expenses (the boat paid for virtually everything), while I was barely living paycheck-to-paycheck at a dead-end corporate job. And since we only really saw each other every other weekend, and we stayed on the boat when I saw him and we usually found cheap plane tickets (multiple layovers and late arrival times), I’m sure we easily could have spent a similar amount of money on dinners, dates and events in those two weeks if we had been living in the same city.

However, no matter how dead-end the job, I was still working and I was earning “my” money. I could occasionally pay for a plane ticket or a hotel room or a dinner or a round of drinks. Working gave me a sense of pride.

I struggle because if I did get a job now it would either be a retail job (no pay and draining) or I would have 15 hour days, six days a week; meaning that when Mark is home, we’d be nothing more than roommates who see each while brushing teeth.

Mark makes it clear that we are a team, but that is a hard pill to swallow when you realize you can’t give the person you love everything that you wish you could (Mark celebrates his 35th this year, and I wish I could do something amazing for him). Mark noted on Sunday night that whatever he might provide me with financially, I provide him with emotionally. He assures me that a time will come when he is looking for something land-based and I will be the only one with a steady income. It’s hard feeling like a teammate when you feel like you can do better. However, I guess if what concerns me the most about our relationship is how I can provide better means we’re probably doing better than most.

Everyday is Valentine's Day

Today is Valentine’s Day! And it’s a big one, not only because it’s our first as a married couple, but in the three years Mark and I have been together, it’s our first Valentine’s Day actually together in, not only the same country, but ever!

Due to Mark’s job, he’s usually is in the Caribbean during the winter months, so we just forego the holiday all together. Instead, I usually make plans with my single gals and we nosh on bottomless-baskets of tortilla chips, sip margaritas and entertain ourselves with the Spanish-only speaking servers.

So here it is. The very first Valentine’s Day I get to celebrate with a significant other … and we have no plans.

As a little girl, I LOVED LOVED LOVED Valentine’s Day (probably an early sign of my sugar addiction). I loved the red and pink (obviously). I loved the candy and cookies. I loved searching for the perfect Valentines to give to classmates. I loved the class projects leading up to the big day. I LOVED Valentine’s Day!

As time past, and with no boyfriends, I became a bit jaded. Although at my root, I am not a flashy person, and most likely would be a majorly embarrassed, I secretly wished I had someone who would send flowers to my high school on that special day.

In college and the years following, I started to enjoy Valentine’s Day again. Rather than focusing on the fact there was a lack of quality men in my life, I was grateful I had amazing girlfriends to spend it with. And it’s a save bet we had WAY more fun than we would have had with boyfriends.

And now, I have an amazing man who gives me anything I could want or imagine just because. But more important than any gift, is that we actually, truly enjoy each other.

When Mark and I first started dating, we were apart more often than together. We never fought or got upset with each other because we didn't want to ruin our real-time together. Later in our relationship, we had to learn how to fight appropriately. But we took something very important from those first months … we still believe our time together is precious.

It’s corny, but Mark and I really get to celebrate Valentine’s Day all year long. Some days are a little less pink and rosy than others, and flowers and dinners out are always a nice, butI believe our time together is more appreciated than most. And I believe that’s what Valentine’s Day is really about – slowing down from our busy lives and appreciate those in it.

They're Coming to America ...

(You have the Neil Diamond song in your head, don't you?)

I haven’t written in a while, and although I had another post started, something more interesting came up.

Due to recent events, that hit a little to close to home, Mark and I have decided to begin the process of applying for his green card.

We talked about applying right after we got married. As you know, with my schooling and Mark’s line of work we barely squeezed in a honeymoon before Mark had the boss on board in the Bahamas for a few weeks. (If you didn’t know, travel is suggestively forbidden while a green card application is under process.)

Long story short, Mark and I met with an immigration lawyer this week.

I have no doubt in my mind Mark and I will pass. However, to have to allow the fate of your marriage to be decided by a government agency, someone who, no matter how much information or how many wedding photos are in a binder, doesn't really know us.

Until Tuesday, I didn’t know Mark’s favorite color, and until Tuesday he didn’t know mine. I did know how Mark loves waking up early, having the first cup of coffee, going to the pilot house to check emails and just enjoy the quiet – on the boat and on the sea. Mark knows that my dog is my most prized possession. He knows my weaknesses are sugar, diet soda, reality TV and Dachshunds. We both have fat days, we could spend all afternoon at the dog beach, our families are very important to us and we struggle daily with submitting to God.

As the process continues, I will chronicle what I can. It’s a weird feeling to think we have to defend our marriage.

I know the immigration agency is doing their job. And I am grateful, since I wouldn't want just anyone in this country, and I sure as hell don’t want the Sacrament of Marriage to become causality to the immigration process.

I know the immigration agents have a tough job and I don’t envy them. To help them out (hopefully!), Mark and I have started on the mound of paperwork (and the remembering!) as well as collecting every scrap of paper, every card and every piece of evidence we have that not only do we have a marriage, it’s a real marriage.

After all, happy, healthy relationships aren't about favorite colors or what country we are from. It’s about knowing that obstacles are just hiccups in the long run … and that’s exactly what we are in it for.

The Couch

Wow! Happy 2011! I thought I would have the chance to write before the holidays, and again at least before the new year. This blog had been in the works for a while, but perhaps this post wasn’t ready until a few days ago.

Mark and I traveled to my parents for the holidays. It was the first time I was home since the wedding. Of course, the number one question everyone asked was, “How’s married life?”

With only three month under our belt, I think Mark and I believed we would fall into our new roles with ease. Me, wife, you husband. We would take moonlit walks, enjoy Sunday morning coffee and have friends over for Uno tournaments.

Well, our moonlit walks involve taking the dogs out, Sundays usually involve me studying for the upcoming week and being in a new city, we don’t know enough people to even have an Uno tournament.

But most troubling was the amount of disagreements Mark and I were having. If you know us, you wouldn't believe it. We are usually happy, goofy people. We enjoy playing with our dogs, paddle boarding, Chinese take-out and vegging on the couch watching America’s Funniest Videos.

As a dating couple, Mark and I rarely fought. We aren’t use to, nor are we happy with, arguing.

When Mark and I went through Pre-Cana (the Catholic version of the pre-martial preparation) we had a speaker that talked about merging of two families. Do you open gifts on Christmas eve or day? What foods do you have at Thanksgiving? What other traditions do did you grow up with and how will they fit in to your married life?

Those are more superficial discussions. What about bigger issues? Mark and I are both first-borns, who are used to being in charge and having our way. We are both super independent. We’ve both lived alone. We are use to doing our own thing. We have different ways of communication. Where Mark tends to an exceptional speaker and the more verbal one, as a writer, I like to think about and edit my words. How do you combine two very similar, yet different personalities?

It wasn’t until I had coffee last week with a friend that the truth came out. She asked me how marriage was. Then she said something that struck a cord, “We [her and her husband] fought all the time our first year.”

Her relationship mirrored mine. And she had dealt with similar stresses in the few years as well; a move, school, marriage.

As she continued on, she mentioned that her and her husband started couples counseling within the first year and still go once a month for maintenance. She said she was embarrassed about it at first.

It struck a cord with me. A couple months ago, Mark and I had a argument where Mark offered the thought of couples therapy. It only made me angry. Maybe it was the super-caffeinated Americano, but hearing it in Starbucks sounded different.

Why not counseling in the early stages of marriage? Counseling or therapy has become such a last ditch effort for most couples; why not start marriage with counseling? By the time most couples sit on the couch, issues are deep. Roles are established.

What if counseling was used proactively?

I think what my friend and her husband are doing is extremely wise and could be revolutionary.

My friend and her husband, like most couples who marry under God, went through pre-martial preparations (which can range from continuous counseling with a pastor until the wedding day to just a meeting or two with a priest). She mentioned that she wished the pastor had followed up a few weeks after the wedding, just to see how things were going.

Marriage is such a checklist now (and a multi-million dollar industry), that you can literally feel like a number while sitting in from of a pastor or priest. Those couples that actually marry for a lifetime and not for the white dress, the house and soon-to-follow baby, can get lost. Pre-martial preparation is about getting to the altar, not about what happens after the "I dos" are exchanged.

The issues Mark and I have are the usual growing pains that most couples face.

Mark and I drove back from Ohio last weekend. Mark had driven nine straight hours, with two more to go. So we started talking. We started asking questions, bringing up issues that were bothering us and overall just talking, calmly

We haven’t made a decision about counseling, though it would be nice to have a third party assure me that storing apples in the fridge is the right place to store an apple. But we also aren’t against it, especially as a maintenance initiative. People always say marriage is work. Romance and dinners out can only get you so far.

We decided to read the Love Dare to try and talk about potential issues before they real issues. And finally we decided to make an effort to go to church (We use to go back in Ohio, but have been a bit lost at finding a church that made us feel as comfortable, yet as spiritually-challenged as the one we left).

And wouldn’t you know it. God has a plan. One of the verses mentioned during service on Sunday was Proverbs 12:1, “He who loves instruction loves knowledge; but he who hates correction is stupid.”

Our thoughts about post-martial counseling aren’t out of fear or a last-ditch effort. It’s to seek to understand each other and to correct faults or shortcomings we may have so we can not only cultivate our relationship but have the best marriage possible. To not want to challenge yourself to be better and to grow stronger with your spouse … well that is just plain stupid.