My Wedding Vows

Just came across them. Still mean every word!

Carrie’s Vows to Jim

Jim, there are no words to describe the depth of my love for you. It amazes me daily and gives me strength in ways that I could never have imagined. But as I stand here today, promising myself to you forever, I’ll attempt to give words to the scope of my love.

Jim, I love you from the tips of your dark, spiky hair, to the ends of your calloused runner’s toes. I love everything that makes you you…the way you can make me smile when I’m angry, the way you laugh too loud in the move theater, your irresistible smile, and all of the idiosyncratic behaviors that make you quirky and weird! I love that you love my family, and that you delight in napping on my parents couch, or torturing Hanna. I love that you don’t let me take myself too seriously, and that you hardly ever know the right thing to say, but you usually know the right thing to do. Jim, I love, admire and respect who you are, and what you bring to our relationship. But most of all, I love “us”. We have fun, and we make a great team. You and I have always been teammates; first at UCI, then at Edison, and now in life. Jim, I promise to always be your teammate.

Do you remember UCI cross country camp in Mammoth the year we first met? We played a team game of truth or dare, and when asked who I thought was the cutest boy on the team, I said you! Then, a few years later, we were best friends. We shared everything; we knew each other’s secret crushes and secret fears. We confided in each other, and trusted in each other. Things did get complicated, when we tried to date, but through it all, we remained good friends. We both knew that our friendship was special, and worth working for and holding on to. Jim, I promise to always be your friend.

It was our friendship that finally brought us together for good. Do you remember that we both got dumped on the same day? You called me, hoping that I would make you feel better, only to discover that I needed your support as much as you needed mine, but we were there for each other. We helped each other to heal. We supported each other. Jim, I promise to always support you.

Soon we found ourselves in a relationship like none we’d ever been in before. We had nothing to hide because we already knew each other’s secrets. Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, because I guess I’ve always loved you. Sharing my life with you for the past few years has been amazing. You’ve taught me so much. I’ve learned to listen, and I’ve learned that I’m not always right…usually, but not always. J But mostly you’ve taught me the true meaning of commitment. You stood behind me even when you didn’t agree with me. You’ve been honest with me, telling me what I needed to hear, even when it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. And you changed your whole life, your job, where you live, your future plans, so that I could be a part of it. Thank you Jim. Thank you for loving me so much. Thank you for being my committed partner. Jim, I promise to always be your partner.

You are my heart Jimmy, and as I look at the road ahead of us, I know that there will be bumps, but when I look back at the road behind, I see that we’ve already scaled mountains. We can overcome anything if we have each other, and I know that I want to have you forever. I love you so much Jim, and I look forward to growing old with you.

I promise so many things to you today Jim. I promise my undying and unconditional love to you from this moment until forever. I promise to be honest with you and to respect you, to stand by you and to give you strength when times are tough, and to be faithful to you always. Most importantly, I promise to inspire you Jim, to always believe in you, and to give you the support you need to believe in yourself. I will love you, honor you, and cherish you for all the days of my life.

The "Should" List

One of the things suggested in You Can Heal Your Life is to make a list of five or six things (the first few that come to mind) you should do. Here goes:

I should eat fewer sweets.
I should feed my family only organic foods.
I should contribute financially to my household.
I should be more patient with my children.
I should feel happier.
I should let go of my irrational fears about money.
I should write a book.

Okay, so that is seven. Truthfully, I could go on and on… The fact that I could probably continue writing my should list for days tells me that I’m pretty darn judgmental of myself. After all, the word “should” implies that whatever the current situation is, it’s not okay. That’s why I should change it, right? The fact that I can easily think of hundreds of things that I should do, tells me that I might be more of a perfectionist than I’d like to believe. I hate the idea of being a perfectionist. I’m so above that (wink). Shit! Am I really a perfectionist? Am I not as perfect as I thought? Crap!

Louise Hay suggests in You Can Heal Your Life that I replace all of the should statements with “If I really wanted to, I could…”. Here goes:

If I really wanted to I could eat less sweets. But I do really want to. They’re just so good. And that voice in my head is a seductress when it comes to dessert! Okay, if I really wanted to, I could choose not to listen to her. Got it!

If I really wanted to, I could feed my family only organic foods. This may be true, but I don’t want to believe it yet. My current belief is that while I may really want to, there are circumstances preventing it. I can’t afford to buy all organic, and planting a garden is too big a job for me to take on. CRAP! I guess I don’t really want to! I’m disappointed in myself for not wanting to do this. Because I want to want to do it, I just don’t want to go through the hassles of gardening, and I have real issues about spending money (more on this later, I'm sure).

If I really wanted to I could contribute financially to my household. Currently, I don’t really want to. I think being home with my children is more important, but I struggle to meld this idea with my sense of worth tied so strongly to “what I do”. Truth be told, I don’t really want to ever go back to work as I knew it before children. This issue is a huge reason for this year of growth. I want to learn how to live in my strengths, and finance my life from a place of creative passion. Brady is almost two, and I know that I will need to start earning money when he goes to kindergarten. I’m determined to do this without going to “work” in the conventional sense.

If I really wanted to, I could be more patient with my children. I do really want to.

If I really wanted to, I could feel happier. True. I know I choose my attitude, my thoughts, and therefore the accompanying feelings. But some of my old patterns are so conditioned, that I’m not even aware that I’m doing it. Still, I think I am already getting better at this. And I do really want to, or I wouldn’t be going through all of this trouble.

If I really wanted to, I could let go of my irrational fears about money. I know! Ugh! That is what makes this issue so hard for me. I know my fears are irrational. I know I am a weirdo about money, but my issues are such a part of who I think I am. I’m afraid to just let go. I’m afraid to trust that there will always be enough… so there never seems to be enough.

If I really wanted to, I could write a book. I do really want to.

Repressing Passion

Like many middle class Americans, I was raised with the idea that I could become anything I wanted to become. But as the years passed, I picked up on clues that perhaps that wasn’t true. In the third grade, I realized that I had a talent for writing, and thought that I might someday become an author, but as life went on, that seemed to fade into the background as I started to make safer, more stable and secure choices. In other words, I settled. But it wasn’t like I realized that I was doing it. Making a career out of writing seemed like a kind of hard road with no guarantees. People in my life lovingly suggested that I should have a backup plan. Writing is a creative pursuit, but a career must be productive, right? My mom was a nurse, and encouraged me to get my teaching credential (which, incidentally, I never finished) so that I, to use her words “would always have something to fall back on.” That seems like good advice, but unfortunately my subconscious heard “you’ll never be good enough, just settle.” My mom only wanted for my happiness, and I’m sure she felt that security was a big part of that. I took the safer path, becoming a teacher and followed my passion for coaching. I don’t regret those choices because I truly enjoyed those years, but this month has completely reignited my early dreams, and I wonder now, why I didn’t persist. Deep down, I know. I didn’t have the unyielding faith in myself necessary. I wilted at the thought of rejection, without even trying. The vision I hold of myself is not one of a person who settles, and definitely not of someone who quits. It sucks to realize that I chose not to do what I really wanted to, and more importantly, that I have not acted like the person I thought I was.
Most days, I’m grateful that I became a stay-at-home mom. I mean, how many women in America even have that choice? But I certainly didn’t expect to disappear the way that I have. And I fully admit that I use my children as an excuse not to be and do what I truly want. I choose unhappiness and stagnation and then blame it on “what’s best for my kids” knowing fully that what’s best for them is a mom who lives as an example. I hope that they grow up to be healthy, whole, confident, secure in their sense of self, passionate and joyful about life, and certain about their roles in it. They will learn how to be from me and Jim, and it is my duty to learn how to exemplify this for their sakes as much as my own.
I guess I just had no idea how much of my sense of worth was tied up in what I did for a living. But when I chose motherhood as a full time vocation, my self-esteem plummeted. I felt like such a victim. Of course, I loved my sweet baby, but I felt so important to her, yet so utterly useless to the rest of the world, and like a huge (not to mention, smelly, leaky, and out of shape) burden on Jim. I had no idea where to find a sense of approval, and yet I was angry at myself for feeling that I even needed it. And of course there is the dreaded question “…and what do you do?” How can I possibly answer? “Stay at home mom” sounds so dependant. “Domestic Engineer” is just trying too hard. “Just a mom” is a bit demeaning. So, I don’t know what to say. It seems impossible to reduce my role to a catch phrase. And while we’re on the subject, how do I really feel about my role anyways? Now that I’m here (trapped in my house with my kids), I have time (between 5:00 and 6:30 AM, and after 8:00 PM) to re-evaluate the path that I’m on.

Holy Crap, I'm a Blogger!

I can't believe this! I don't do the internet! Sure, I check my email frequently, and my myspace occasionally, but I don't spend time on the internet. Not the way my husband does. He spends hours checking out what's new in cyberspace. He visits his favorite message boards and gets his news from the internet. Not me. I love to read, but reading off a screen has never worked for me. I'm a pen and paper kind of gal. Nonetheless, Here I am.

Almost two months ago, I made a personal commitment to a year of dedicated self-growth. It was kind of like a new year's resolution, only it happened in July. This blog chronicle's the journey!