Love Dare part 2

Yes, we are still at it.  We are daring to love every day and learning more than we expected.  Wow.  I can say, I was looking forward to 40 days of lovey-dovey moments with Chris.  I thought we would just sail through these dares and grow closer and smile at how much we love each other.  But what I'm finding is these tasks are doing a great job at shining a light on how poorly I sacrifice for my husband.  I really didn't think of myself as selfish or entitled, but those words came to me this past weekend.  When I stay in bed and expect him to get up with the kids.  When I glare at the full trash can he left for me while he is at work.  When I pass that toy/sticker/apple core/dirty sock on the floor over and over and I REFUSE to pick it up, because I do enough around here, that should be his job.  And so I chose to email my Village sisters and tell them this discovery I had.  It was hard to be that honest.  But then today's dare was about being intimate, about trusting my spouse with everything.  So I told him the same thing.  And it was so much harder than even that email, to look at his face agreeing with me as I said those words out loud.  Ugh.  And I don't want to change.  I don't want to be better somedays.  I DO do alot around here.  But I know that I need to get my butt out of bed.  I need to partner with this man more fully, take the burden more equally.

Because the other thing these Dares are showing me is what an incredible man I married.  I talked with Liga (in my head I always call her Lovely Liga, and I think one of these days its going to slip out when I'm actually talking to her), who met her husband when they were stupid, immature teenagers, just like me and Chris.  And we agreed that looking back at the beginning of our relationships at the boys we fell in love with, kind of makes us cringe at how low our standards were.  And how those boys became men who just make our jaws drop sometimes, that we got so lucky to have these men marry us and give us children to raise together.  Nothing Chris did while we were dating(or even that first year of marriage) comes anywhere close to the ways that he impresses me and loves me and challenges me today.  Seriously, 17 year old Rachel, you won the husband lottery when you lost your mind for that boy at work who smiled at you and told funny jokes and had kind of a cool car.  You didn't know then (how could you, you were such a moron, and worse, you thought you were pretty smart) that he would turn out to be self-less and kind, laid-back and thoughtful, gentle and strong, tender and bold.  You just wanted to kiss those full lips and hold hands at the movies and have a date for Prom who wouldn't bring a 2 liter of Pepsi mixed with rum in a backpack (a backpack and a tux, people. Pepsi and rum).  At least the funny thing is still there.  He still makes me laugh.  And taking away distractions and making time to talk more these past 18 days has made me remember just how much I loved to laugh with this man when he was a boy, and I appreciate that I still get to laugh with him now.  Only the jokes are much more personal and special and gut-busting, because what we have is a one flesh, one love partnership.

What I want my sons to learn

" Arrogance? Arrogance is looking at a girl in desperate need of help, looking at a friend who was committing an obvious felony and deciding what the moment called for was an impromptu porn shoot."  -Dan Wetzel

This is Ohio.  We are a people who love football.  No matter which school you matriculated from, odds are you spend your Saturdays in the fall watching Ohio State play.  Local high school teams sell season tickets to people whose children have long since graduated and moved away.  At what point does our fandom become hero worship?  And at what point does that undeserved reverence for teenage boys cross the line to criminal negligence?

"Drunk on their own small-town greatness, they operated unaware of common decency until they went too far, wrote too much, bragged too many times and, finally, on a cold Sunday morning, were hauled out of a small third-floor courtroom as a couple of common criminals."  -Dan Wetzel

As a mother of boys, as a woman, rape offends me.  Reading the sordid details of the Steubenville rape trial makes me want to puke, and then start slapping people.  The boys who saw a drunk girl as an opportunity.  The teenagers who made crass jokes and watched crimes being committed and did nothing.  The adults who supplied alcohol and looked the other way as children pretended to know how to handle the adult freedoms they'd been given.

"Later, Richmond's biological father, Nathaniel, also addressed the court and the victim's family, placing some of the blame for his son's actions on his own life troubles and being an absentee father.
'Everyone knows I wasn't there for my son,' Nathaniel Richmond said. 'I feel responsible for his actions. I feel highly responsible for his actions.'"  -Dan Wetzel

1. Sports and alcohol are mutually exclusive.  I hope my sons take in their father cracking open his Mountain Dew while watching the Browns.  I hope they see alcohol as a taboo until they are adults.  I hope they learn restraint and moderation.

2. Men of integrity.  Moreover, I hope they notice other things their father does.  I hope they see him driving the speed limit and correcting a waitress for leaving an item off our bill and returning library books on time.  These things may seem small, but they add up to a man who is full of integrity.  My husband is a blatant rule-follower, and I expect our sons to realize what a wonderful quality that is.  Then, when the big things, like teen drinking and what to do with a passed out 16 year old girl, come their way, they will know the right course of action.  They won't stand by, look away, or worse yet, join in on criminal behavior.

3. Family ties.  The only way I know to make sure my boys learn these lessons is to teach them.  To teach them each day by the way I live, by the woman I am, but also to say it OUT LOUD.  What must the parents of these boys be thinking tonight as their sons are preparing to spend at least the next year of their lives in juvie?  Are they wondering how it all went wrong?  Are they asking themselves why they never just said, "Don't slap your dick on a drunk girl?"  I plan to talk about sex with my boys many times.  About how it can be beautiful and sacred and uplifting when you join your life to another, and in that process your bodies become one.  About how teenagers often want to experience the momentary thrill of contact, but they aren't ready to commit to everything that comes after.  About how ultimately, the right woman for them will be one who is waiting for them, and they honor her and their maker and their parents when they wait until she comes along.  We will spend time together throughout their high school years.  We will have family game night and movie night and we will go on hikes and attend sporting events.  Maybe some of those nights will prevent them from attending out-of-control parties.  Maybe just hearing their parents talk about sex will make the whole idea repugnant to them until they are mature enough to make good choices.  Maybe that intentional time together will teach them to value every person they meet.  Maybe they will change the world by choosing differently than their peers.  I have to try.  I have to hope. Because today they're boys, but someday they'll be men.  And I don't want my sons to hurt your daughters.

 *Dan Wetzel quoted from his spot-on summary article:
http://sports.yahoo.com/news/highschool--steubenville-high-school-football-players-found-guilty-of-raping-16-year-old-girl-164129528.html