(If you were wondering where I have been this long while, here is the short answer: I have been falling in love. And I just got married. And I am gearing up to travel to Greece and Spain again!)
My husband has a habit of yelling out, “I play this game called I win!” It can be at any moment really. I thank him for taking out the trash. “I play this game called I win!” Presumably the “game” of being a good husband. (He always wins that game, I might add). He remembers someones birthday. “I play this game called I win!” He finds a great parking spot. “I play this game called I win!” You get the picture. And with his competitive nature don’t even think of playing a simple card game with him or you will hear those, at times, infuriating words.
(I did not give a speech at my wedding. I am not sure if it is customary to do so but I just had so many other things to accomplish that it actually slipped my mind. I was the wedding planner for my own wedding, with the help of family and friends and anyone who has planned a big party knows that things can get stressful, let alone being the actual bride. So this is my wedding day speech. You are welcome.)
My husband is a combination of Robo Cop, Captain America and a Greek, marble sculpture of a god. At least my impersonation of him is. When I do a short 3 mile run with him he has the time to run it twice by the time I meet him at the finish line. He literally has time to go to Starbucks to get his extra hot, skinny Mocha. I imagine him sipping it slowly as he cheers me on. I begrudgingly give him his offered high-five and try to smile when he says “You’re getting faster.” Thank God he has the supportive nature not to yell his infamous phrase.
I realized that I was given this superhuman man by my side as a bit of karma. You see I have three brothers and one sister. I was four years ahead of Joseph. He and I rode our bikes, what felt like 10 miles one way, up hill both ways. I remember flying past him on my 5 speed as he struggled to keep up with me on his hand-me-down single speed. (Mind you I was also 13 when he was 9.) I do think this gave me a false confidence as to my abilities. And I know my brother was constantly frustrated watching my ponytail fly down the hill in front of him every day. (Sorry Joe Baby.)
Now I get my “just desserts” as I watch my man out-fitness and out-funny me constantly. (The latter is almost impossible to do and rarely happens). It is humbling and makes me so grateful to have someone to look up to and work hard to impress. “Wow, three pull-ups!” As he does 30 minutes of pull-ups.
But his excitement over the small accomplishments in life is infectious. I think it is so important to constantly be grateful for those small little victories. They add up. Your boss recognizes you at work, “You played this game called, I win!” You remember to wear deodorant. “You played this game called I win!” You get out of bed every morning. You guessed it. You played and you won. My man reminds me to celebrate every step, especially the small step.
And don’t worry. I’m not going to end this post with something like: “now I can look at him and say, ‘I played this game and I won…You!” You would probably unsubscribe. I will say it’s hard to boast about how lucky I feel in life. Perhaps its because I worry that the retort will be “Give it 10 years, honey.” But I suppose I understand the person who says that to me as well. I was there at different times in my life. And I am just happy to be me, now. Still so many mountains to climb but loving the present moment.
“I play this game called I win!”
(Feels good, doesn’t it?)