The List that Keeps Giving

I'm on a stay-at-home vacation this week, so lists rule! There's nothing quite like the feeling of crossing something off your to-do list. My intention this week was to get some stuff done: organize, weed the flower beds, edit my novel! It's Thursday, so time to take inventory of my accomplishments:

1. Weeded flower beds. Pretty easy job in a drought.
2. Organized one junk drawer. The main junk drawer that is. Found four sharpies. Score!
3. Finished Season 4 of Stranger Things. Whew. Time-consuming. Emotionally draining. But completely awesome!
4. Started Season 4 of Modern Family. Laughing should always be on a to-do list.

So, the week is running out and here I am, blogging instead tackling the furnace room or a closet I had my sights on. Truthfully, my purpose in organizing those areas was to find our wedding video to get it transferred to digital before our thirtieth anniversary (next August). When Mom told me she has a copy, my drive to organize areas drifted a bit.

I truly do believe in the power of lists though. Anyone remember Phil Dunphy mentioning how his wife, Claire, can create to-do lists that last for days? I'm with Claire. The only problem is my hubby doesn't usually see the need to do these pesky household tasks unless it has a monetary value associated. "If it doesn't make us money, why do it?"  I should say that to him the next time he feels amorous.

I can be a bit sneaky in my approach in getting Doug to do something. Sometimes it's appealing to his need to be challenged. "Think you can mix me up a cocktail of weed killer?" He's on it.  Sometimes it's appealing to his sense of fun. "We should refresh the basement. Maybe add a bar." We conquered that in a few months. Sometimes it's appealing to his sense of adventure. "How many limestones do you think we can dig up in the cattle yard?" My Indiana Jones found so many we were able to recreate Stonehenge. And sometimes, if it's possible, I find a way to make it a smart financial decision. "Couldn't we write-off a new garage if you use it for agricultural purposes?" 

Our son figured out how to manipulate the list process at a young age. I usually left a list of chores for each of the kids in the summer. One day, when I was cleaning out a drawer, I found an old "list" notebook and came across something interesting – and just a bit off. It was the kids' lists with a few normal chores like filling the dishwasher, vacuuming and cleaning the toilets. But Alex had more on hers. And she had a special task in her column: Play video games with Cole. It even really resembled my handwriting. I'm not sure it worked, but I liked the thought behind it – integrating normal chores with the thing he really wanted done. And having Mom sign off on it.

I have just a few hours left of this stay-cation to get things done. (Tomorrow we leave for Iowa City to perform the critical job of cheering on our Hawks at the season opener.) So, there's still a furnace room and closet to conquer. But there's also a cat that needs petting. And it's almost lunchtime. And I wouldn't mind playing a little piano. And hey, when I return to work next week, I'll be armed to discuss my main accomplishment for the week: Finishing Stranger Things. Kidding. Sort of. Truly, and not kidding one bit, the best thing I did this week was spending time with my best friend: Doug. I'll never cross that task off the list.

#My Best Friend

Get up. Go to work. Come home. Do laundry. Make dinner. Attend a kid's activity. Exercise. Read the paper. Go to bed. Repeat.

Sound familiar? There's probably a few more items on everyone's list. Meetings. Helping with homework. Church events. Fundraisers. More meetings. Writing books. Lots and lots of stuff.

With every minute of our schedules pre-determined, how do we possibly make time for those frivolous things like friendships and marriages?

I did it this week! I carved out quality time for friendship and my marriage. And the results so exceeded my expectations.

Not only did I have a shopping and spa day last week with one of my best friends in which we detoxed our skin with a mind-blowing facial which refashioned my hair in a Pee Wee Herman-style, but I also arranged for a couple's retreat with my husband this past weekend in Omaha. (Ironically, there was a marriage encounter happening at the hotel we stayed. We didn't attend the sessions.  I peeked at the guidebooks. Very depressing.)

Anyway, there were a few hiccups to our couple's weekend.

It sleeted. But the sun shined.

It was cold. But we found ourselves capable of speed walking.

Our bar waitress couldn't add. But we are both skilled at simple math. ($5 plus $6 DOES equals $11. Luckily, bar waitress was able to confirm with a calculator.)

The food at the fancy restaurant was not only cold, but it was tasteless as well. However, the lemon drop martinis (arguably the most important part of the meal) were spectacular.

The movie we rented in the room required technical help. But IT guy was so apologetic over our ten minute wait, he made sure we didn't get charged the $16 fee which subsidized for our room-service dessert.

Without the mishaps, I'm not sure we would've laughed as much. Maybe. But every experience seemed to promote our sense of togetherness. It was extremely liberating to ditch the to-do list and just talk and giggle at the circumstances–much like we did in the beginning of our courtship...BC...before children.

Not that we don't love spending time with our kids. We do. (We started planning our Kansas City family vacation on the way home.) But it seems like we forget who we are, as a couple, without our lovely kids. We made a pact. Twice a year. Couples retreat.

OMG. There goes my hair again on this couple's retreat weekend. Good fodder. Good, good fodder.

Next week I host Easter and amazingly, and uncharacteristically, I do not feel stressed about the upcoming event. I think it all has to do with the friends' day and the couple's retreat. My new recipe to deflate anxiety: Immerse myself in the present. Have real conversations. And laugh. Laugh lots more.

Petsmart now plays Queen's Your My Best Friend on their commercials. This also happens to be one of our wedding songs, which is kind of funny since pets find the tune meaningful as well. But I love it. I hear the song much more now. And every time the commercial comes on, I don't only see a cute cat or dog, I remember our wedding–and why we got married. It's nice. And funny.