Category: Bryan

See, what I’m tryin’ to say is, you make things better.

Dear Bryan,

For two weeks now I’ve been planning to write a mushy essay for your birthday about how much I love you, and to post this song as a tribute to us. And then we got into that huge fight on the day the kids started puking, and you were stressed about work, and you’ve been putting in long hours, and I didn’t get any sleep, and even through several conversations I still haven’t felt settled in my heart like we’ve resolved it.

And then I didn’t feel much like writing a mushy essay anymore about how much I love you.

anniversary 2007But I know these are the “for better or for worse” times we talked about when getting married, when covenanting with God that we will push through this soupy existence together all the way until death (and killing each other doesn’t count). I know now this is just a blip in a very long life together (God help us), and even though I sometimes feel we are having the same argument over and over again, just over different things, at least we are still having the argument instead of simply passing by one another on our way to and from the bathroom.

You’ve asked me several times this week if I liked you, and I know I said something smart-ass like, “I have to like you, we’re married.” And even though I know it’s not technically true, that I really don’t have to like you just because we’re married, I really do like you. In fact, I like you so much that I’m willing to overlook the fact that you can be an ass sometimes – mostly because I know I can be a real bitch, too. And mostly because I know that as long as we are still alive we will always find ways to hurt each other, and that I’d much rather be pushing through this soupy existence toward reconciliation with you than anyone else in the world.

So when the guy in the song says, “I’ll stand by you, if you stand by me…” I only agree with that to the extent that I’ll stand by you. I don’t think God intended Covenant to be an “if” kind of thing, so my prayer is that you will feel me standing by you even during those “for worse” times when I don’t necessarily feel you standing by me first. This is a stretch, I know. I can picture you pursing your lips as you read this, mentally listing off all the ways I have not stood by you this week. And I get it. I’m not sure I’m there yet, which is why I said it’s my prayer. As in, going forward I hope to respond differently to you when I feel hurt.

complicated127-thumb.jpgAnd now that I think about it, I’m not sure you really do make things better, as the guy in the song says. I mean, I’m sure I don’t make things better for you, either, but how are we supposed to? That seems like a pretty complicated task, to make things better for someone else. And maybe that’s why I got so mad the other day, because I wanted you to make things better for me, and you were hoping I’d make things better for you, and it was the perfect storm of disappointment that neither one of us could be made to feel better in that moment.

But then again – I mean, even though I’m just now realizing you can’t make me feel better like Jesus can make me feel better – you do make things better in the sense that you are with me. It is not good for man to be alone – that’s what God says, and I think he has a point. I’ve been alone before and I didn’t like it very much. And even though you sometimes make me wish I was alone again, I know that’s just the liquor talking, and when I sober up I’m always glad you’re right there with a strong cup of coffee in hand.

So on today, your 38th birthday, I just want you to know that I love you. I think you need to hear that from me now, because maybe you were wondering if I did, given the week. But I do. I love you. It’s complicated, but I love you. Over and over. And you make things better, because I can’t imagine I would work this hard at anything else if I didn’t think it got better every time we came through a rough spot.

Happy Birthday, Bryan. I love you.

Coding Horror

As it turned out, Bryan had to work the entire weekend I was in Kansas. He took a short break for beer and pizza on Thanksgiving, but otherwise he spent the weekend coding while the kids watched movies. He coded in the living room while the kids took a bath. He coded on the couch while the kids watched movies. He coded in bed while the kids jumped up and down all around him…and watched movies.

As the weekend approached and I realized it would not be filled with fun trips to the dog park or shopping to get mama that really great Christmas present, I tried to find someone to help him with the kids. But in the frantic days before my departure all I could think of were the usual friends and babysitters who watch my kids, and they were all gone for the holiday weekend. After I got home, of course, I remembered all sorts of other people who had offered to watch the kids if we ever needed it.

I checked out six new videos from the library in hopes that fresh entertainment would help keep the kids out of his hair.

The first day I called in I got a report that Ruthie had watched Pocahontas four times in a row. After the second viewing Thomas threw a major fit, so Bryan stuck her in our room while they watched “Buzz Lightyear.” I later learned that Ruthie watched Pocahontas four times every day, which I think breaks the record from my Finding Nemo days.

The second day I called in I learned that Thomas had ripped one of the library’s DVD jackets to pieces (note the bright pink sticker that says, ADULT SUPERVISION RECOMMENDED).

ripped disk wrapper

The third day I called in, I learned that Ruthie had drawn on my stainless steal refrigerator with a Sharpie permanent marker. For Sunday I called in reinforcements and had a friend take the kids to church so Bryan could code uninterrupted.

But really, this was like a typical week for me, so I think Bryan was a major stud if that’s all that happened while he was completely preoccupied. When I got home the house was clean, the kitchen was clean, and the kids were alive. That’s all I ask. Truth be told, I felt really bad that he was stressing through a major coding deadline with the kids underfoot while I was making a spectacle of myself over politics in a restaurant.

Yesterday while I was catching up on reading some blogs, I read this HILARIOUS post by Dooce on her new blog design. When she says, “[Jon] has been knee-deep in code for almost two months now…]” I totally related to what that’s like. Yesterday morning Bryan was screaming the F word at his laptop because something wasn’t working in Explorer the way it was working in Firefox, which is similar to the other night when he was screaming the F word at his laptop because something wasn’t working in Firefox the way it was working in Explorer.

When this happens I just pretend I’m not there.

My favorite excerpt from that post is this:

Yesterday as we neared the final stretch I decided to take Leta out to run some errands so Jon could project manage those last few tasks without being distracted by the sound of her body tossing itself on the floor. He briefly got up from this desk to kiss me goodbye when I noticed two giant sweat stains underneath his arms, and I was all, are you running on a treadmill while coding my website? Isn’t that complicated? And he’s all, yes I’m running on a treadmill, WITH MY BRAIN.

So thank you, Bryan, for manning the DVD player while I whooped it up with my family in the midwest.

I call it, Man-ffermations

B: My sweatshirt still smells like paintball paint.

J: Even after I washed it?

B: Yeah, see? Smell it –

J: Uh, no. I trust you.

B: No really, smell it.

J: Honey, I don’t need to smell it.

B: Just take a whiff!

J: Why does it matter so much that I smell your stinky sweatshirt???

B: Because I participated in a macho activity and I want you to smell my musk.

diaper stash

Every morning when Ruthie wakes up, I remind her to throw her pull-up into the trash and put on her underwear. I didn’t think this task needed to be clarified any further – it seemed straightforward enough for a rational person like myself. But apparently it did, because today I found about two weeks worth of used pull-ups stashed in a pile in the back of her closet.

When Bryan found out, this is what he says…

Bryan: Ruthie, the next time we find hordes of used diapers in your closet, I’m going to give you 50 million spankings, a time out for ten years, and withhold food and water. You’ll have to eat grasshoppers.

Ruthie, after considering this for a moment: Nah!!! You’re joking!

Bryan: Okay I’m joking, but that’s REALLY GROSS.

Because I’m missing him terribly this week…

bryan & wine - what combination could be finer?Bryan has been gone this week. We’ve had such a long stretch with him home, working from our basement studio, that I’ve grown really fond of having him around. This has been a sad and lonely week without him, so I will now wax eloquently of the many reasons I love this man.

Poetry. He writes me poetry, and reads his works to me at friendly gatherings with great energy and grandeur. My friend once described his readings as “So I Married an Axe Murder” poetry, which is to say it contains drama and rhythm, and is largely incomplete without the performance that goes along with each word.

husbandHe works hard, and is the most disciplined person I know. Every morning he wakes up at 5am to work out so he can still put in a ten hour day. He works from home, yet he showers every morning, gets dressed, takes exactly one hour for lunch, and kicks ass at his job. As I type this at three in the afternoon, I am still in my pajamas.

He protects his time with family. He wants to be with us, and makes this happen even when work is stressful and calls for long hours. He’s even disciplined with our money – our kids now have a college fund and our house has a new roof. If it were up to me, our kids would be screwed and our house would leak, but we’d have a beautiful new kitchen and a Toyota Highlander. I think endlessly about what I want, but he is always looking out for what we need.

IMG_7520.JPGEven though I’m the spontaneous one in this relationship, he’s the one who comes up with all the great ideas. I’ll say – Let’s do something fun today! – then proceed to spin my wheels about what that fun thing should be. After I agonize over indecision or brain block, he steps in to say, Let’s do [insert activity], and it’s always brilliant. It’s because of him we find ourselves picking pears at a friend’s orchard, or walking through Marymoor Park’s 40-acre dog park, or flying remote control airplanes in a field.

Six years ago I never would have thought I would feel this deeply in love. Somehow, even though the butterflies of first kisses have escaped us, the maturity of our love deepens and widens and multiplies in volume, filling out all the rough spaces and patching up all the holes and healing all the scars. Our love is a miracle, really – one rejected soul meeting one angry soul, each finding the comfort of the Refiner’s Fire in the other.

Come home soon, baby. We are missing you.

Different Worlds

Bryan returned from San Jose tonight, and was home by 8:15. We sat on the deck talking on the first coolish evening of the week.

Bryan: Want me to build a fire?

Jen: Uh… ok… [pausing to to process why this sounded horrific to me, but not wanting to dash his obvious hopes] So… what was the weather like in San Jose this week?

Bryan: It was kind of cold, actually.

Jen: Ah.

So despite the fact that I have basically been on fire all week, I am now sitting next to a beautiful crackling fire – having inner Post Dramatic Traumatic Stress attacks.

Because I love him dearly.

The Man is Simply Wasting Away

Bryan is losing weight as if he’s allergic to it, and he looks great. I’m disgusted by how disciplined he is – the exercise and the eating healthy, and the having only ONE glass of wine a day. One!

And me? I keep fluctuating within the same five pounds – not particularly gaining, but not losing, either. I think these pounds are just very fond of me, and are not interested in maintaining a long distance relationship. They are perfectly content to be right. here. with me.

It doesn’t help that my beloved women’s gym closed down with only three days’ notice. They were losing money and decided to throw in the towel (ha! get it?). They sold all their memberships to the Pure Fitness co-ed facility down the street, but my friend already checked it out and said it was crowded and sweaty and like a meat market in there.

I hate co-ed gyms. I hate them so much I haven’t been over there yet to activate my new membership, and Sunday is my deadline. I’m dragging my feet because I hate co-ed gyms.

Did I mention that I hate co-ed gyms?

Fortunately for me, Bryan bought us a fancy new elliptical machine to facilitate the lack of excuses for not exercising, but my membership is paid through the year so I’d be losing a lot of money by blowing it off. Plus, I like to get out of the house every now and then, and going to the gym helped make that happen.

So, this post is one part pouting, one part feeling sorry for myself, and three parts praise for my fantastic, disciplined, hunk of a man!

In Praise of Bryan Zug

hung in the right spot!Yesterday afternoon Ruthie and I went to a birthday party, and while we were gone my super-husband cut the grass. We get into at LEAST one fight every summer over the reel mower we own (I love it, he hates it), so it was a big deal that he just decided to cut the grass and not complain about it.

He also hinted at another project he accomplished while we were gone, but wouldn’t tell me what it was. After spending the entire evening outside by the fire pit (first fire of the season!), I finally went in to find Ruthie some warmer clothes. It was then I noticed our large framed print in the living room had been hung on the wall correctly! And it looks great!

Bryan had given me a few concert posters from Over the Rhine for my birthday a few years ago. It took a year and a half to get one framed, then we hung it on the existing nail which was positioned lower for a smaller, horizontal print. Finally, a year after THAT, my print is hung in the right spot.

Yay for Bryan!

The Christmas Wrap

We had a great Christmas Eve with my family, and a relaxing Christmas Day at home. It was fun to see the kids really getting into it this year, and I love to see them connecting with their grandparents.

I think the highlight of the weekend was when we ‘called’ Bryan’s mom on the new computer we bought her (via Sightspeed and a webcam), and she was able to see her grandchildren for the first time in a year. At first she didn’t get it, and thought she was watching a video. And when she realized she was actually having a conversation with us, I think she was a little choked up. It was a very festive occassion, and I know Bryan was very proud to be able to do that for his mom.

I’ll be off line for the next few days as I am running away from home with my good friend, Sarah. She has been my friend longer than anybody else I know (sixteen years!), and we have been on many adventures together. We swore that even after we were married with children we would still break away for ‘free-spirited’ weekends, and only now are we finally making it happen for the first time.

Ciao, everyone!

Game On

If you don’t hear from me for awhile, it is because Bryan is home for the next three weeks and we are battling it out over Carcassonne during our spare time. After mooching the game off friends for the last few years, we finally bought our own and now sip Bailey’s on the rocks and watch ‘viewer discretion advised’ shows like The Family Guy while we play. The other night Brian the dog actually said, ‘She made me eat the hair in her pie,’ and I nearly spewed my drink all over the game.

Before you know it we’ll be playing strip Carcassonne.

I’m a Nervous Wreck

Bryan’s flight was supposed to leave San Jose at 5:30pm, but it was delayed due to high winds in Seattle. They boarded the plane an hour late, then they de-planed again to wait another two hours. Then at 9pm he called to tell me they were boarded and about to depart – he tells me this while I’m lying in bed on the second floor of my house feeling it shake shake shake in the gusty wind. And I’m calculating in my mind that his flight is due to arrive in Seattle right about the time the worst of the storm is supposed to hit, and I’m like, WTF? And he’s like, Don’t worry, we have life insurance. And I’m like, ha ha you’re so funny. And he’s like, don’t worry about it, they know what they’re doing, and they have radars and stuff. And I’m like, whatever.

So now I’m sitting here watching the Alaska Air flight tracker that tells me the plane is in the area and about to land. AND MY HOUSE IS SHAKING. He’d better call as soon as those wheels touch down.