The One Way Street of Compromise

"A Compromise is an agreement whereby both 
parties get what neither of them wanted."

~Author Unknown


"Swearing was invented as a compromise 
between running away and fighting." 

~Finley Peter Dunne

We all have our moments. Our irrational, childish moments where whoever is trying to tell us what to do is the devil and we are just sticking up for our rights. I believe this is an argument used by every teenager around the globe, though I am not sure what they quote in other countries, here it is often the first ammendment. I still haven't really seen a decent discussion as to whether or not anyone under the age of 18 actually has that right, or any right for that matter, because while they are "people" in the eyes of the law they are kind of still property ergo the ammendment is not one they can rely on, but I digress.

In marriage the inner teenager has a way of showing its ugly head every once in awhile. You try to state your opinion or desires in a way as to convince the other person you are right but every once in awhile they are not inclined to see anything from your point of view. Let the compromising begin. What I have discovered amongst most of my girlfriends is a simple fact, a compromise of any sort means it went "your way" and the only way it becomes the guy's way is if it is entirely done as they wanted it with absolutely no alterations. I can see the merits in the argument, but I find it stacks the deck unfairly against my side as then it seems I "always" get what I want because 4 out of 5 times we compromise. This is not "my way," this is the adult way. All in all it usually works out fine and there is not a second thought about it. And then there are the times when it is NOT okay.

These are the times when I regress to the childlike person who should not be allowed to discuss anything with anyone because it will end badly. These are the times when it suddenly hits me that it is NEVER my way, but rather a version of my idea mixed with some of his and I am not longer happy sharing the common ground. I wish I could find the giger counter on that moment. Heck, I am sure most of the male population would like one of those, because it is usually just one sentence too far, one small dismissal that suddenly sets off the inner teenager and getting her back in her room is rather difficult. My husband and I see eye to eye on most things. We usually have a great dynamic and we really don't argue. But he avoids conversations like the plague so when this irrational girl feels dismissed it becomes an epic fail in the area of compromise. Funny thing is by the end of the conversation I don't usually get my way nor am I pushing for it, I just want to be heard. I want him to see it from my side of the compromising tilt-a-whirl...of course he says he does, but I don't think he really gets it. Then I wonder, why does it matter if he understands my side?

Finally you reach the inevitable conclusion that compromise is a thing we all settle for but all the things you think of your mate are true of you as well. We are in essence self centered people, our realities live in our heads, how could we not be? So when you finally accept that it isn't a specific desire of the other person to ignore your way just a matter of perspective you find things go much more smoothly. Of course that doesn't stop that inner teen who just wants to scream about how unfair life is...you wish you could tell her it will always be that way and she would actually listen. That "fair" is also a matter of perspective and life is a wild and bumpy ride, full of adventure, frustration, and doing things differently might just be good for you.

What is Clutter?

Clutter/Disaster

My Neat

Chris's Neat

I never thought such a simple question could turn into an exestential conversation about the reality of our world and the things we choose to fill our lives with, but the simple word "clutter" can strike fear in the hearts of the OCD and questions in those who are sentimental. Unlike many couples, my husband and I are slightly reverse. I must say, I count myself hugely lucky that Chris likes to keep things neat and tidy as I have seen the other side with other men and it can be ugly. That being said, I need a place where I can be messy. I need a place where I can keep one or two pieces of paper out without being scolded. More importantly I need those things to stay where I leave them because what seems disorganized is logged in my head. But my personal filing system is an entirely different issue for which I should probably seek counseling.

I do not like lots of nick-nacks that must be dusted and cleaned, so I feel like this is a good thing. Those would be considered "clutter" in my mind. That being said, if someone has given me something, such as a ring holder, shot glass, or random decoration, I do sometimes have a hard time getting rid of it. I don't want to offend anyone, plus it means something to me. I have purged many such items in a desire to rid myself of things I do not need. I feel as though I am down to the bare minimum of such "cluttery" things, but Chris would beg to differ. He feels like any of these things are too many, with the exception of candles, anything that sits on a surface is clutter.

Many might agree with the assessment but I now reach out to other fellow readers. In Chris's mind, books are clutter. I'm sorry what? I have boxed up, sold or stored two bookshelves worth of books and only have one left. If he had his way the entire thing would be given to charity. I have tried to keep out only my list of books I must read, cook books, and the favorites you turn to when you just need some fluff. Apparently, still clutter. We agree to disagree and I put my one allowed bookshelf in the corner of the living room. On top of that, I try to keep all my "clutter" items on the same book shelf so he does not have to deal with it. It now simply elicits a sigh as he walks to our bedroom and must pass the dusty objects ranging as reminders of family, friends, and random events in my life.

Now we are onto the table and the counter. Things are not to be left in either place. I can accept this. I put out a "mail basket" where I place the mail I have not had time to deal with yet and I use my desk for storage of anything else. BUT, in typical hypocritical fashion, there has been a Sirus Satellite Radio manual on our counter for a week. Chris needs to call and find out why it isn't working. His work schedule is also on the counter. Oh, and he left out a small stack of DVDs that he wants to watch as well as a kite manual he wants to look through. All of these things have been out for multiple days because they are reminders for HIM. Had I left any such thing on the counter it would have been moved and when I asked where to he may or may not remember where he put it "away." If clutter is a reminder, how come I can't have reminders too? Why is my stuff "clutter" and "mess" and his stuff "reminders?" And the most important question, if you put it away and you can't remember where "away" is so you have to re-purchase things, how good is "away?" Sure it is out of sight, but it can no longer be used...what good is that to anyone?

Final sidebar...just because a piece of paper is left out does not make it a coaster. Anything that can remotely absorb water is apparently for use with a glass whether it destroys the thing or not. I personally think this is his own little way to keep me from leaving important papers out as he will use everything from a note to our marriage license as a place to put a glass. Somehow cup rings on our certificate of marriage are less offensive than on a table. I guess I am just too sentimental.

What is it about the TV Running

I am a background noise junky, don't get me wrong. From childhood I was known to have the stereo blaring while I did my homework (no TV in my room, good call, Mom). I fell asleep to music. Of course I set the sleep timer because I used the same system to wake me up in the morning. But oh, my goodness, can there never be a moment of quiet in the house? Why is that so offensive? I know mothers the world over are giving me the finger right now because I have it easy, just one man making noise, but still! How mothers keep there sanity is beyond me.

Let's use the very simple example of right this very second. I decided to come out on our deck to do my work for the day. I had the TV on in the den while I was working, but thought I would rather be outside. I turned OFF the TV and came out here and settled in. Chris just worked the night shift and was unwinding with a little "Wii Time" (he cheats, by the way) and then he came out to say "good night" or "good morning" whichever you prefer. I hardly notice the little noise coming from the TV until it switches from the morning news to JERRRY SPRINGER. Seriously, you cannot possibly ignore that trauma drama in the background. Why when you are going to sleep and you have to make it as dark as night would you possibly leave on such garbage? Not only that but obnoxiously LOUD garbage.

This is one area where I NEVER thought I would have something in common with my Dad. He is hyper-sensitive when it comes to sound and noise. He has turned off the television on me at least once in every trip I have ever taken home because he finds it wholly undoable in the morning. TV is only a nighttime thing in his house. I swear, I am becoming him.

To top it off, Chris likes to fall asleep to the TV. Fine by me, I do too. But the guy who is oh so sensitive about his sleep pattern, sometimes takes hours to fall asleep, insomnia boy, can sleep through a nuclear war once he's out. I consistently wake up to some DVD music on repeat or a really loud preview to a tragically expensive movie. Now, I can sleep anytime, anywhere, so I am not complaining...it wakes me up and I roll right back over after I silence it. I just do not comprehend how this noise does not even disturb him. How it is possible that the "Friends" theme for the millionth time in a row does not permeate his brain and say, "must stop the noise." All in all, I have an entirely new respect for quiet. One I never thought I would have. I guess I am still capable of changing and in good ways :) Thank you, Chris, for making me appreciate my new outside writing experience where I simply hear the fountain and the little bird that keeps popping up to the side of the bushes. Now I sound like Snow White (ugh).

Thanksgiving and all the Trimmings

Chris and I wisely decided to stay put through the holidays. With all the changes in our lives over the past few months it makes much more sense for us to have time to settle in. Add to that the fact he works in a hospital, is the new guy, and is likely to work over the holiday. All in all this seemed like a wise decision and turned out well.

This was not my first introduction to family dynamics, nor was I unaware of the possible misunderstandings of family. But what started as a simple Thanksgiving at home, turned into a full blown who is going where and when fiasco that left my head spinning a bit. It all started by us announcing to my Mother-in-Law that we were going to spend Thanksgiving very low-key and probably have dinner with just Dixie at her home. Dixie is Chris's 97-year-old grandmother who does much better in small groups due to hearing issues and with her developing memory problems, is obviously much more comfortable at home. This was met with, "Fabulous idea." I, of course, told Lynn (MIL) that she should come to make it a truly lovely Thanksgiving, but we really wanted to do the dinner at Dixie's house. Of course, of course, all is well. Then a week later she asks what are plans are again. Chris tells her our plans for a second time, quite clearly that we will be visiting Dixie at her home and Lynn should come so we can all be together.

Imagine my surprise when 2 days before Thanksgiving I get a message from my new Sister-In-Law saying how she and Brett can't wait to see us at Lynn's house on Thanksgiving night. They are doing lunch with her family but will be stopping by to see us...it's been so long. WHAT? I quickly leave a message saying we have no intention of going to Lynn's house. Chris has to work the day before and Thanksgiving Day the graveyard shift so we are having an early dinner with Dixie. Come to find out Dixie will be at Lynn's. Are you kidding me?

I didn't want to step on any toes or cause any problems, but Chris needs to sleep and we had expressed our wishes, so why was everything being changed? And how do I change it back without starting a big family feud? This is one thing you have to figure out when you have been "in-lawed." You have spent your entire life learning the best way to deal with your parents and family and now you have a whole new set of parents to deal with. Come to find out, they do not respond the same way as your family and they have entirely different ways of getting what they want. A whole new map must be built.

Now, I hate to say the universe stepped in to provide me with my way...I think that might be overreaching, but I was annoyed. Then Lynn got a horrible flu. This forced her to stay in Virginia longer and ended with us getting to have a small Thanksgiving at Dixie's house. I did all the cooking and we transported it over, Lynn came cause she was feeling better, and Chris got to sleep as much as possible. I would never wish illness on anyone, but the change in plans provided us with EXACTLY the Thanksgiving we wanted and Lynn even got her split-pea soup. I think it turned out for the best...leaving me thankful for my family and the flu.

Moving Trucks and Space Issues

How is it that a room full of furniture looks bigger than an empty room? I am loving this concept even though I do not understand it. Turns out we have even more room in our new place than we thought we would..great news! Getting here was a bit more of an adventure. Priorities of men and women vary slightly causing the inevitable "you are annoying me but I don't want to ruin this fun moment so I am going to grin and bear it" portion of your new, shared life.

We had a wonderful last evening in our old apartment. My uncle came by to purchase a TV and we all ate Costco pizza on the floor (I forgot how good that pizza is, I mean not NYC, but still yummy.) Then Dawn and Mike came by and we went to the Surly Goat for a few drinks. Just what you need, find a really cool bar just a few blocks away the day before you move...C'est la Vie, there will be cool bars in Long Beach. Of course 5:45 a.m. rolls around far too quickly as the movers arrive slightly after 6am.

Now Dawn had told me the night before that hiring movers was the best money she ever spent. After watching them load our apartment in record time with very little lifting on my part I 100% agree with this statement. AMAZING and left plenty of energy for the unpacking on the other end. Here's where the issue with priority comes in, you see before we even had the movers scheduled, Chris had scheduled our cable appointment. The cable guy was coming between 1 and 4 to set up the cable. It was now noon, we had no TV's set up nor any stands on which to put the TV. An hour previous I had kindly, gently suggested Chris start putting the TV stand together. We have just gotten a new TV (thank you wedding money) the size of a movie screen to put in the living room. I am a TV junky, but I can honestly say I never in my life expected to own a TV almost as wide as Gretchen's mom is tall. It seems a little ludicrous but we got a good deal and it makes him happy.

Of course my suggestions went ignored as we belabored where the desks were really going to go. This was an important decision as I made it clear once my oversized, massively heavy, armoire desk was placed it was never going to move again without the hiring of many men or purchasing our own crane. It was decided...so now he's going to put the stand together, right? Nope, now we are going through the drawers and making sure the shelves in the closet are cool.

"Chris, it's getting late, wanna put the stand together? I will help."

"Okay." I think the extent of my helping was deciding what side of the box we should open as the insides were almost entirely glass. Shockingly, we managed to pull out all the pieces without breaking anything. The look on my husband's face was priceless.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought it came in three pieces."

"Why did you think that?"

"It looked like that on the box."

"Okay, so???"

"I don't know how I am going to get this together in time. I'll start doing it, you start unwrapping the TV."

It is my turn to look at him incredulous. Seriously? I can lift things. I am quite strong for a girl, heck for a person, but I was in no way dumb enough to think it was a good idea for me to be in charge of a television only slightly shorter than myself. The bulky aspect alone makes it a bad idea. My head begins swirling like the eyeballs do on a classic WB cartoon as I have images of me slicing the TV screen or pulling too hard and the top pops off. Terrified. But pride also prevented me from saying no.

Needless to say we got the TV set up by the time the cable guy was done with the other rooms, though I felt judged from the moment the cable guy arrived until the time he left. I actually think he was a bit annoyed we managed to get the TV up in time. I think he was hoping he could leave before we finished so we would have to have another service call. With a little team work we made it....then I opened a beer.

The Couch

Women are crazy? Women are indecisive? I beg to disagree. Christopher (yes that is what I call him when he's annoying me) can not seem to keep the same idea from one hour to the next. He will sit in the living room telling you why you cannot possibly take the couch we have and use it in the den. We need someplace where people can sleep. A comfy place to actually have a guest room, we should get a futon.

Fine, logic is there, makes sense, the couch has served its purpose. I proceed to post it on Craigslist.

"You did what!?"

"Posted it on craigslist." I am mildly curious...did he already promise it to someone else?

"You can't get rid of your couch."

Literally one hour previous is when CHRISTOPHER was telling me why I needed to get rid of the couch. You see we are getting a very generous gift from his mother, a new couch, so if it isn't going in the "guest room" we have no place to put it.

"But we are getting a new couch."

"Can't we fit both of them in the living room?"

"Why do we need two couches?"

"I don't know, I just know how much you love it."

That's sweet, so I think for a moment about two couches and start to plan a seating arrangement in my head around the new idea. Now let's keep in mind my couch is a blue, microfiber couch with black piping. I put a pin in the craigslist ad and begin thinking about our options. I am still not working out how this all fits in the living room because Chris wants a sectional, but I am contemplating.

A mere few hours later. Chris comes to me with a list of printed out couches for our new purchase and I do the same. Everyone of my couch options is ruled out because they only come in neutral colors such as "mocha" or "brown." There will apparently not be a brown couch in our new home. Fine.

All of his couches come only in green and all have a recliner, but no chaise, my one requirement for a couch. When I ask why this is:

"No couches have both."

I frantically (cause now I'm getting angry) point at my postings, all of which come with BOTH. I didn't even print any that DIDN'T come with a recliner.

"But they're brown."

"So we can't compromise on the color but we can compromise on the chaise?"

"None have both."

This is when I begin banging my head against the wall because I feel like I am speaking to a dementia patient. What do you mean they don't have both? Here are 15 + examples of couches with BOTH, they just don't come in GREEN.

I understand the art of compromise is a complicated thing. It's a dance most marriages spend a lifetime figuring out and I am sure one person is always a bit more giving than the other. I also understand that Chris has a minimalistic style that I can embrace, but also has a childlike love of just one color and a irrational hatred of another color. As witnessed by our wedding, I love purple, but other than MY new bathroom you don't see me splashing purple all over the house. Purple has it's place as does green. Chris might be a bit spoiled in that realm because green happens to be my second favorite color, so I am not offended and can work within such decorating limitations. But when we can compromise comfort over color I draw the line. It is now that I point out to him he might want to consider what will be more comfortable to sleep on, a recliner or a chaise, because he's likely to spend quite a number of evenings there if this was how compromising works in his world.

Packing

So you think you know your new husband, right? So you've been told girls are crazy and indecisive, right? I challenge both those assertions as proven by trying to pack and move together for the first time. Packing is complicated enough with one person, but with two you have compounded the problem exponentially. Now, mathematically I know that sentence makes no sense, as 1 to the second power is actually less than 1 multiplied by 2, but I am thinking it is an exponent more in line with the number of years you have lived in the place you are moving out of as stuff seems to breed other stuff.

Not only are you likely to have different opinions about what is valuable or not, you also seem to be married to a man who at one point says, "throw it all out," and then flips out every time you are getting rid of something...I refer to a dolphin statue. The conversation goes a little something like this:

"But you love dolphins."

"Yes, I do. But it just sits around catching dust and I am not attached to it."

"You can't throw it out because of me."

"I'm not, I am giving it away because I don't care about it enough to move it."

"You have to keep it."

"I don't want to keep it."

"Why are you keeping the other one then?"

Now how does one tactfully answer this question? You see I have gotten myself in a bit of a pickle at this point. I no longer care about the other dolphin statue because it is from an ex-boyfriend who, while we stayed friends at first, is now married and no longer allowed to speak to other girls. He kind of ceased to be important in my life at that point, thereby neither is the product of his trip to the Mall of America. The other statue is from the family of my college roommate and I love them so I love the nick knack. It is worth the dusting time, bubble wrap time, and general moving.

BUT, in order to say this I have to admit, aloud, I kept the old boyfriend statue all the way through our dating, engagement, and wedding and I am only getting rid of it now. Now in my defense, that wasn't a choice I made, it was simply that it sat on the top shelf of the book shelf and I NEVER even thought about it. It was just there...as proven by the dust so thick you had to use a chisel to chip it off. It was only because I was packing that I even took the time to think about the existence of the figurine and where it came from in the first place, making it of less value than the cost of the bubble wrap to secure it. So instead the conversation ends like this...

"Craig is having a hard time right now, he's likes the dolphins, will you just let him take it?"

That's right, I threw my friend under the bus. Thanks for taking the bullet, Craig.

Indecisive and crazy to be proven in the next post.