I didn’t get around to writing about it, but the 3rd marked 7 years Craig and I have been married. It has been 7 wonderful years that I feel blessed to have had. My husband and our daughter are God’s greatest gifts to me.
Angelica was in school. I took the day easy. We like to celebrate, but we just got back from a trip the night before, and I just wasn’t up to doing much. The previous Thursday though, we went to the cafe we like and then went to REI for hiking gear for Craig and Angelica.
A few minutes ago I went upstairs to get two excedrin and an electric heating pad for my husband. He reorganized the living room, carried the big vacuum downstairs (a struggle for me) cleaned upholstery, and then…he shoveled our ice encrusted driveway. If you have never shoveled an iced over, snow laden driveway (or more to the point, watched your scandalously sexy man shovel one) you don’t know how much work it is. My husband is a strong guy and no sissie, and he was still panting and hurting his back.
I offered him drinks, then a warm jacket. He declined both. Then I admit I spent a bit of time on the porch with the cold eating through my dress like acid in order to watch my husband work. There is something so inherently erotic and toe curling about watching a strong man do something hard, something physical.
My husband does so many great, vital, necessary things. He takes care of our little family. Sometimes it is thankless work – like when he is up getting ready for work at 3 am. The times we need a few things at the grocery store and he dashes through the cold or rain to go get them. Vigilant bedside visitation when I, his wife, try to kill myself. Visiting me in hospitals for physical or mental wounds. Handling household setups after moves. Taking trash bins out to the street when the wind is trying to kick the lid back and knock his teeth in. The way he puts together the things we live with and on.
There is so much more. I need to remember gratitude. Each day I make an effort to thank Craig for what he has done, for what he is doing. Is it enough? How many millions of things does he do each day that I don’t acknowledge because they are the fabric of our married life, because he does them so quietly, because I just don’t have the breath or the words?
I need to give him more gratitude each day, whether by putting his boots up or looking him straight in the eyes and saying, “Thank you. I love you.”
Because the things he does, just as much as the things he says, show his love for me.
Today Craig took me to my fabric paradise! He bought me two kinds of sheer cloth to put over my camera as screens. I can’t wait to experiment with that idea! He also got me three pieces of regular cloth with spectacular designs. Rainbow birds, iridescent autumn leaves, and colorful test tubes and beakers. I will use them as backgrounds for different book photos, as painting backgrounds, as little images to add to mixed media stuff, and who knows what else!
We started our special Valentine’s date by going to Steak N’ Shake. Afterward we went to the mall, and then to Coldstone for dessert. It was a lovely day. We decided to do our special Valentine’s Day date today instead of on the actual holiday because of crowds. Occasionally we will go out on the 14th if we can go in the morning or early in the afternoon. It’s usually still crowded then but not as bad. But Valentine’s Day fell on a Thursday and our babysitter I was busy until about 3. We certainly didn’t want to deal with the crowd at that point. point. So we had a lovely day today now that the holiday is done.
However, we exchanged gifts on Valentine’s Day. Craig got me two beautiful Swarovski necklaces and a painting by a local artist. I got him an air fryer. He has been wanting one for awhile. I hope he really likes it. I was thrilled with what he gave me. All so lovely and romantic.
This is a thin little book, but it is jam packed with some of the best marriage advice I have ever read. These are ten needs my husband has that I need to meet. It was eye opening, had examples, and very inspirational. My marriage is my top priority, and in marriage we are called to serve. This book provides great reminders of what I should be doing to meet my husband’s needs and be the wife that he very much deserves.
Last night Craig and I went to the Spider-Man movie he wanted to see on a date. I bit into a Sour Patch Kid while the movie was going and I suddenly felt two hard things. My crown and piece of real tooth had just popped out of my mouth. The hole was so deep on one side that it went below my gum line. It was night and I had to find an emergency dentist to go to.
Apparently what happened is this. When the dentist put my crown on a couple of years ago, he put it on top of a cavity. The dentist last night said, you have a cavity, and at first I thought that he meant the real tooth that was around the edge and was exposed to food and air. I thought I just hadn’t brushed it well enough. In actuality he said, the cavity was in the middle of the tooth and was sealed in by the crown. He said that the dentist who put the crown in put it on top of decaying tooth. They didn’t take care of a cavity that was in there. They just put a crown on a tooth that was decaying. Finally the tooth became so decayed and weak that it couldn’t hold the crown on anymore or the growth around it. So it just came off. The dentist who put my crown on stuck it on top of a cavity and the tooth was just rotting under there day by day ever since. He said every last bit was rotted inside all the way down to the very thinnest bottom layer. It was not salvageable at all. He had to extract it. Some of it was so soft, but some of it was extremely brittle and he was jerking on and pressing on and yanking my jaw so much that I thought he might dislocate it.
When he was going at it with the drill the stench was horrendous. I know that you usually smell burning bone when they have to drill into your teeth like that. I’ve had cavities before, and a root canal, so of course this was not my first time smelling burning tooth. But there was another horrible smelling thing that made it hard to breathe. I asked what it was and they said it was the smell of the bacteria in the cavity. The rot. I could have passed out. It was horrendous.
The whole thing was hard. To start with I have a fear of the injection needles that they use to put the novocaine in. It’s been getting worse and worse over the years. I had Klonopin with me and I took some to help with the anxiety and fear. It did help, but I was still so panicked that I screamed during all the injections. When it was done and I managed to calm down and breathe I told him I was glad I at least had the Klonopin because that helped. They raised their eyebrows and said really? But it would have been worse if I hadn’t had the Klonopin. I was trying to scream quietly, since Angelica was in the waiting room with Craig at that point and I don’t want her to develop a fear of the dentist. But apparently she did hear some of the screaming even though I was way in the back. I think I’ve reached the point where when I make normal dental appointments I need to go to one of those places that will put you under. That’s going to be expensive. But I took double klonopin and I was still hyperventilating and screaming. Last night though there just wasn’t an option to wait find one of those dentists who puts people under though. The hole was bad and it had to be plugged immediately. They put a bone graft in to hold me over until I go to an oral surgeon after I do some healing.
I have to get an implant tooth. I’m really dreading this. It will happen over the next few months. And I know that for that procedure at least he said that they cannot put me out because sometimes when they drill to screw the fake tooth in they accidentally drill into the nerve that runs along the jaw, so they need you to be awake so that if they hit the nerve you can raise your hand and yell so that they don’t drill any further. But to make you at least a little less miserable they do give you Novocain and part of your mouth, which means at the very least one more time I have to have one of those needles come at me. My heart is absolutely racing at the thought. Part of it of course is the pain. I’m a sissy wimp and when they stick that needle all the way in down deep and you feel it hit, that really hurts. Plus I am considered hard to numb, so they have to stick a lot of needles and most of the time and inject a lot of the novocaine before I am numb enough for them to do what they need to do. But part of it is not the pain at all. It’s just the absolute Panic of seeing the needle there and knowing it is there and feeling a piece of metal being inserted into me like that. Part of it really isn’t the pain it’s just what’s going on. It’s the act of having a needle inserted into me. If they could get rid of the pain that would help, but I would probably still be doing some screaming and panicking just because of what’s going on. It’s an injection. Injections give me panic attacks.
Not a great night. But I am grateful to my husband for all his care. We got home late and he was out at 11:30 picking up my pain medicine and antibiotic. He made me comfortable with a warm pad. He woke me up for my medicines. When I couldn’t sleep for a long time to begin with because of the pain he just held me. I remember moaning and crying. It was a rough night. And somewhere in the middle of all that he found the time to clean my ankle brace for me because it really needed to be cleaned before I could wear it again and in the midst of pain drugs and pain and exhaustion I wasn’t up to the task of cleaning it. He was up so late that he went to bed at 3 this afternoon to prepare for his morning shift. I am trying to take the pain medicine on time so that I don’t lapse. I love Craig. I am thankful for him.
My husband loves to see me wearing maxi dresses. He just likes long, flowing dresses. He’s always happy when I buy one. Maxi dresses are just his style. I haven’t bought one in a while though. Maxi dresses are hard to find sometimes.
Part of it though is modesty. When I pointed out to my husband that when I wear short addresses he can see my legs, he relied, “So can everyone else.” My husband would like me to be more modest, and as his wife I will obey. God has called me to obey my husband.
My body belongs to my husband. When we got married two became one. His body is for me, and my body is for him. If he doesn’t wish me to show off my body to other people I think that’s understandable.
To that end, I have ordered some conservative maxi dresses. I hope they fit me. It is so hard to be able to tell what size you are online. They are a long, flowy dresses in a few different colors. They have a high, modest necklines. It makes me happy to dress in something that my husband likes to see me in. And modesty can be good for the soul. In a society where so much of our worth is based on how much skin we show and how good that skin looks, keeping skin covered can actually be freeing. If someone wants to look and see if I’m beautiful, they will see my face rather than my breasts. If they want to talk to me, they will have to focus on my ideas and what I have to say. I want to be noticed for my personality.
I do not intend to dress frumpy. I will still wear jewelry and makeup – and of course I always try to make sure my headcovers are lovely. But out of respect for my husband I will try to avoid anything to form-fitting or too short. I wish to respect my husband. What matters most to me in terms of beauty is being beautiful to my husband. He loves long dresses and so it will be a pleasure for me to wear them as much as possible. He also values modesty, and I think it is good that he is helping me with my spiritual maturity by asking me to be covered and modest.