If you ask me what we did last weekend, all I need to say is baseball.
Because that’s all we did.
Three baseball games, baseball team pictures, a team parent meeting, and a lot of bug spray. I decided that if given the choice between new Tory Burch espadrilles and a lifetime supply of Cutter spray with 25% deet, I would choose the latter. Because who can enjoy shoes if West Nile gets them first?
(See. I use logic sometimes.)
As we drove home from the fields on Sunday evening, I said something crazy like, “Oh my word, it’s 8:30 and we’ve been here since 2:30.” But Larry reminded me that we have nothing else to do, so we might as well be doing baseball. Which holds true to what I like to call our glamorous life.
The good news is that Luke’s spring league team was like 0 and 90 until Friday night. And after Saturday’s win, we’re now on a two game winning streak, which is fantastic.
My pre-baseball Friday activities included cleaning the house and grocery shopping. If that does not scream awesomeness, you might need your heart checked. I have been the official cleaning lady around here for the last 18 months, and for crying out loud, I’m still trying to love it. Truth be told, there are times that I enjoy it a little bit, but actually those times have been like 5 out of 142.
And for real, I cannot ever complain about my husband’s efforts around the house. Because Larry always tells me that he’ll clean if I don’t want to. The thing is, I really don’t want to. But to shove that responsibility on him would be wrong to, like, the 50th power, since he does have an actual paying job and everything. Not to mention that it could lead to unnecessary resentment because Larry likes to dust using that Swiffer duster. And when he uses that Swiffer duster, I feel compelled to film a Youtube tutorial on How To Dust Like You’re Supposed To.
But he wouldn’t watch it. And it would make me mad. And the furniture would still not shine to it’s Pledge-like capability. Which is why I am just the household cleaning lady and not a YouTube star.
It’s also why Larry and I still like each other.
Speaking of that, our Sunday school class just started Five Love Languages. You’re probably familiar with this book if you’ve gone to church at any point in the last 17 years. Or if you have ever googled “what in the world happened to my marriage?” This book isn’t as trendy as it used to be, but let me just say: I often need to re-learn a thing or twenty.
When it comes to marriage, I tend to forget that love is intentional. Especially when life is comfortable and such, I lose sight of the truth that the strong kind of married love is all about serving your spouse and loving them on purpose.
The whole love languages concept makes total sense when you think about how Larry and I love each other. He will often get an essay from me via text or email that basically says I love you in 68 words. And he never fails to reply with a cliff notes version: “I love you, too.” (It will come as no surprise that my love language is Words of Affirmation, and Larry’s is not.)
I realized yesterday that Larry could easily think I don’t love him at all (despite my wordy descriptions of such). That’s because his love language is Acts of Service, and it probably goes without saying that this is really not my thing. At all.
The very term brings visions of mowing the lawn or pressure washing the garage floor. Neither of which have I ever conceived as a menu item on the Amy Dalke House-Cleaning Lady website.
Nonetheless, it’s not about me. A truth that shocks me every time I hear it, and I’m not even joking, which is pitiful. So if you happen to see me climbing ladders or cutting down trees or washing cars, you’ll know why. Although technically Larry wouldn’t appreciate my tree-trimming skills, as he’s way too logical for that. Thus you’re more apt to find me loving my husband by cleaning the cat litter or changing a lightbulb.
(Given the cat situation this is very much called True Love.)
The moral of the story is that if you don’t feel loved by your spouse (or other family, friends, etc.), it would serve your relationship well to figure out how to love them in the way they best receive love.
The other moral of the story is that those Sweep You Off Your Feet Feelings don’t last. Successful marriages only happen when you actively, consistently love your spouse on purpose.
The extra bonus moral of the story is that if this blog doesn’t work out, I’m going to pursue a YouTube career as a Dusting Expert.
You might want to stick around and see how that turns out. Just saying.
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