Getaway to Charleston

Earlier this month, Matt and I took a little "just us" getaway to Charleston, South Carolina. I had been there before, but Matt never had, and we had a special plane fare voucher thing we wanted to take advantage of, so we decided it would be nice to have a little trip sans kiddos—the first since we've had kids! Sure, we've had an overnight to ourselves now and then, but it was the first actual vacation for just the two of us since going to NYC the month before conceiving Kate. (Now that I think of it, we went on a cruise while pregnant with her, but it wasn't quite the same!)

It was just three days, but we soaked up the lowcountry history and culture and fabulous cuisine—not to mention the sleeping in and late evenings out. (It's such a shock, one's first vacation with kids, to be confined to the hotel room by eight o'clock!) We walked the city by day, then took a late afternoon siesta before going to dinner around eight!


It wasn't exceptionally hot (just regular hot!), but very humid. We opened our hotel room curtains the first morning (after arriving after dark the night before) to see a torrential downpour. Fortunately it stopped by the time we finished breakfast, but the air was so wet, my camera lens fogged up constantly!

Our hotel was near the north end of the Museum Mile, which goes down historic Meeting Street, so we started there and just headed south with our map, pointing out the sites along the way and detouring to explore further when we wished. Our first real stop was the oldest synagogue in continuous use in North America. We're religion geeks, of course, and I especially love Judaica, so we stopped in for a tour. The stories about how this modern congregation has navigated the we've-always-done-it-this-ways of their 300-year history reminded us that all congregations have certain tendencies in common!

 

After walking through the old market, we had lunch at A.W. Shucks, and then continued along Museum Mile, stopping off to take in the Old Slave Mart Museum, on the site of Charleston's main slave market, established after 19th c. Charlestonians decided selling Africans publicly on streetcorners was uncouth! It was very interesting to learn more about the domestic slave trade. Maybe the most interesting fact was learning what a small percentage of trans-Atlantic captives were actually brought to the U.S.  Most ended up in the Caribbean and South America, and Brazil was actually the last to outlaw slavery.

Charleston is called the "Holy City" for the huge number of churches on this small peninsula. We walked through many of the church yards and cemeteries, and went inside a few that were open for visitors.

Finally, we made it to the south end of Museum Mile, the Battery, and looked at the colorful veranda-ed homes and out into the harbor.

Our feet were pretty sore by then, and the humidity was taking its toll, so after walking maybe halfway back, we finally found a trolley stop to hitch a free ride back to the hotel. As I mentioned, we enjoyed relaxing back at the hotel each evening before heading back out for dinner.

I hadn't realized what a "foodie" city Charleston is (though a restaurant-biz neighbor of ours did tell us he'd been down there for the Food & Wine Festival and recommended his favorite restaurant, High Cotton). Our favorite restaurant was the one practically next door to our hotel. Our flight from Charlotte on to Charleston was cancelled, so we ended up getting in five hours later than expected, and going to dinner at 10 p.m. our first night in town. We went to 39 Rue de Jean (fittingly located at 39 John St.) a fabulous French bistro. I had the duck confit, and it was amazing. The downside was that it made the subsequent great restaurants we enjoyed for the rest of the trip slightly less amazing.

Anyway, our second full day, we went out to Fort Sumter, which was Matt's must-do item of the trip. I'd been out there before (reminisce: MCC Revelations Choir Tour 1996!) but I appreciated the history and on-site museum a little more the second time around!

Back on the mainland, we had lunch at Sticky Fingers BBQ, notable to me for two reasons: (1) I'd eaten at the original Sticky Fingers in Charleston suburb Mt. Pleasant a few years back on an author visit, and (2) we buy Sticky Fingers sauce here at our local Kroger because it is one of only two brands I've found without high fructose corn syrup! (There was also a signed portrait of South Carolina-native Stephen Colbert there in the downtown Sticky Fingers!)

Our final day in Charleston we devoted to a few historic home tours: the Aiken-Rhett House and the Nathaniel Russell House. There are several great historic homes to tour in Charleston, and I haven't really discovered a favorite (in 1992, my family made sure to visit Calhoun Mansion, since some of "Scarlett," the TV miniseries sequel to "Gone With the Wind," was filmed there :) The plantations are great too, though we did not rent a car on this trip and just stayed in the downtown area the whole time.

With a flight to catch at 7:30 p.m., we spent the late afternoon soaking up the culture (sweetgrass baskets!) and relaxing in a park along the waterfront before having an early dinner of a few tapas and drinks during happy hour at the aforementioned recommended High Cotton.

After sitting on the runway a total of 90 minutes between our two flights and me swearing "it's just not worth flying anywhere!" we finally got back home, crashing into bed around midnight but getting to sleep in once again, since we'd so carefully planned for the grandparental babysitting to be at their house that night so we could relax just one more morning!

We sure missed our girls, of course (smiling wistfully at any small child we saw around Charleston or in the airports!) and were so glad to go pick them up that next day. They were glad to see us too and eagerly wore their souvenirs the next day to school—the dresses we bought for them in the old market, each embroidered with a palmetto, symbol of South Carolina!

Feeling Romantic (and Relaxed)

I'm feeling very romantic today, here in the beautiful surroundings of the Opryland Hotel. Matt is attending a ministry training event here with leaders from across the country, and since it's in our own backyard (just five miles from our church, maybe fifteen from our house) I am joining him for the weekend, to have my own little personal retreat.

After working much of the day yesterday, and handing over the young'uns to Granna and Opa, I enjoyed the evening just hanging out in our hotel room while Matt participated in the conference's evening sessions. I laid out all the photos and scrapbook supplies I brought, and indulged in four hours of wedding-related reality TV on The Learning Channel. (Or has their content made TLC stand for something else these days?) My goal is to scrapbook all our December/Christmas photos while I'm here, as well as do a little work and enjoy time with Matt when he can pull away from the conference. I'm feeling soooo relaxed, just having some time to myself, and I'm being reminded how important is is to get away as a couple now and again.

I'm feeling romantic because this is the site of Matt and my first date, almost ten years ago now. We'll be eating dinner at the Italian restaurant tonight where we ate on that first date, but there are also so many other places around this gorgeous hotel that bring back memories. Like the bench where we sat while waiting for our table, where we talked and learned how much we had in common. As I sit here working in sight of this gorgeous waterfall, I remember how we walked behind it on our first date, and it was so lovely and romantic, I was afraid he was going to try to kiss me and I wasn't quite ready for that!

 

(I've told Matt that story, so we laugh about it now. And kissed there last night, of course :0)
We spent the night here for our first wedding anniversary, and we come for dinner occasionally, or a business thing, but it's really nice to spend even more leisurely time here, just enjoying the views.

We brought the kids here at Christmas last year, but we realized we need to bring them over just for an ordinary Saturday to explore all the jungly pathways and waterfalls, take the indoor riverboat ride, and eat lunch. Next week is Kate's birthday party, but maybe the week after that. Can't wait to come back and share the fun with the kiddos!

Chianti and Crafts

I'm bummed that my favorite month is already half over. Fall just got here and I feel like it's flying by already! Yesterday was Matt's and my sixth anniversary. We celebrated Saturday night with a nice dinner out at a fancy Italian restaurant—caprese, bread, bottle of Chianti, pasta, dessert, cappuccino . . . multiply that by ten days and it will be obvious why we gained about 15 pounds on our Italian honeymoon!

We spent dinner doing what we usually do on dates—me asking random "get to know you" type questions and Matt playing along. A few I came up with the other night:

If you took a round-the-world trip with five stops, what five places would you visit?
If you could magically endow our children with one character trait, what would it be?
If you could magically solve one of the world's problems, which would it be?

Yesterday, during our precious few hours at home between morning church and evening church, Kate and I did two fun fall projects, both of which I'd pinned a while ago on my Fabulous Fall board.

We made pumpkin hats by painting paper bowls and gluing on a wine cork stem (see, we drank that Chianti for the kids ;), paper leaf and raffia ribbon. Kate wanted to paint hers green, rather than orange, but when it came time to model them, she wanted the orange one.

 Claire seems to enjoy putting on and taking off either of them.

We also made Candy Corn Cookies, which were really fun to make. Kate was constantly asking when she could lick the beaters, but once the dough was done and that was out of the way, she enjoyed pressing each layer down into the pan.

I should have used a smaller, deeper pan so the cookies would be bigger, but they are really cute, little bite-sized cookies.

The weekend was over far too quickly, but we had a lot of fun. Hope you did too!

Four Years Later

Matt and I were married four years ago today...

... and I'm still using the monogrammed cocktail napkins from the reception.

I don't mind. I like them, and I'll probably be sad when we use the last one. (Maybe by our fifth anniversary?)

Two notes about the above picture:
(1) it was taken with my new phone (the LG Ally--cheapest Android-platform phone you can get). I'm really impressed with the crispness of the photos.
(2) The photo of Matt and I visible in that shot was our first photo together--taken at a friend's house in September of 2003. He spilled a glass of red wine on my khaki pants a few minutes later. Ah, memories!

Happy anniversary, sweetie. I love you!

Hug Your Pastor's Wife

Despite the fact that I named my blog "The Parsonage Family," I rarely write about pastor's-wife issues. That's because most of the time, I feel pretty disgruntled about it. I don't hold back if someone asks me about it in person, but on the blog, I don't want to be too negative or upset anyone in our congregation.

Nonetheless, it strikes me that most people have no idea what their pastor and his or her family's life is like. 
They don't know that 75% of pastors report a "significant stress-related crisis" at least once in their ministry.
They don't know that 56% of pastor's wives say they have no close friends.
They don't know that 33% of pastors say being in ministry is "an outright hazard to their families."

I just saw these statistics on Eugene Cho's blog, in a post called "Death by Ministry." He got them from Monday Morning Insight. If you care about your pastor and his family, I highly recommend you read both articles.

And pray for your pastor and his wife. They need it.
They could probably also use a hug.
But understanding would be even better.

Burning the Book

A few weeks after Matt and I got married, I bought a book called Don't You Dare Get Married Until You Read This! The Book of Questions for Couples. Okay, so I was a little late, but I love get-to-know-you type questions, so I thought it would be a great book of conversation starters. I took it along on our next camping trip, thinking it would be great for late-night, mosquito-ridden chats around the campfire.

After hiking down into the valley, lugging our backpacks and a bundle of firewood, we set up the tent and got to work building the fire before dark fell. The store-bought firewood was a must, since it had rained recently and things were pretty damp. Matt arranged the wood and tried to light it. And tried. And tried. And tried. Even with the theoretically-dry bundle, the fire pit and kindling were so damp that nothing would light. Darkness indeed fell, and Matt was growing frustrated.

I was standing by with my new book, waiting for the fire to light so we could enjoy our romantic relationship-growth exercises. I reluctantly offered him the title page and end sheets as dry kindling. That seemed to work... for a moment. Inspired by the flicker of hope those pages offered, I tore out the contents page and preface too. Hmm... Maybe just a little more would do the trick.

I ripped out the pages we'd already talked about in the car... and then a few more. The logs seemed to catch for a moment and then extinguished. More... more... Signature by signature, I ripped out every page in that book.

But still, no fire... and no fireside chats.

Over three years later, here we are. We haven't been camping in ages. (That one may have been our last, actually.) Even without the help of a "book of questions," we have plenty of wonderful, deep conversations. We are partners, lovers, parents... doing marriage and parenthood not quite by the book.

I put on my dressy clothes and go off to the office every morning. Matt sees me off with a kiss and a travel mug. I sit at a desk for eight hours. He runs errands, visits the sick and elderly, and does research for his sermon. I drop Kate off at day care three days a week. He cares for her all day at home the other two. I drag my briefcase through the door after an hour-long commute. Some days, he has dinner almost ready.

I really didn't plan to be a career-woman with my husband a work-at-home-dad. We've just grown into our roles naturally because they are what works for our family. We've burned the book of the 9-to-5 Man and the stay-at-home Woman and are charting our own course.  I'm far from being "The Breadwinner" and he's far from being "A Househusband" (we don't play by that book, either) but we are writing our own book, chapter by chapter.

On Father's Day yesterday, I celebrated my husband for the awesome father that he is. I am blown away by what a wonderful daddy he is to Kate. He is head-over-heels in love with her, and it shows in every silly face made, every sippy cup filled, every diaper changed, every eye-gouge and hair-pull pleasantly tolerated. I also celebrated him for the amazing husband he is to me, loving me even when I'm difficult, and supporting me as I pursue a career I enjoy.

Matt jokes about putting on a fedora and heading off to the office, and I get a huge kick out of "playing housewife" on Saturdays, going grocery shopping and doing laundry. Our roles may not always be traditional, but we have a great life together, and I am so thankful for my sweet, funny, dinner-making, ever-loving, book-burning hubby.

Happy Father's Day, Sweetie!

Why Get Married? (part 2)

Yesterday, I broached the complicated question "Why get married?" in response to my friend and my impromptu book club meeting regarding Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage. I confessed how embarrassingly marriage-obsessed I was in my early twenties and how I have a much more practical perspective on marriage now. Strangely, I find that confession of practicality somewhat embarrassing too, since I feel like we're supposed to maintain the illusion that marriage is just sunshiny, candles-and-violins, hearts-and-flowers romance.

Most of us who have been married any period of time know it is hard work and that commitment is often more of a decision than a feeling. We've chosen to create a family unit, and we choose daily to invest in that family unit. As Lori Gottleib says, "Marriage isn’t a passion-fest; it’s more like a partnership formed to run a very small, mundane, and often boring nonprofit business. And I mean this in a good way."

Matt and I began this morning with a matter-of-fact assessment of Kate's bowel movements in the last 24 hours. It's not romantic, but it's part of the "family business," so to speak. The most heartwarming moments for Matt and I these days are when we're snuggling Kate between us; we smile and sigh and say sentimentally, "We're a family." We are a bonded--if boring--family unit, with our own values and priorities.

Interestingly, it is this "family unit" concept that eventually convinces Gilbert of the value of marriage--or at least of why marriage doesn't mean you are becoming a suburban clone in the service of the state. She picks up a book called Subversive Family, by Ferdinand Mount, which she assumes will be about couples who legally wed and yet maintain their hippie, anti-establishment lifestyle. As it turns out, Mount asserts that every married couple is subversive, in that the secret, intimate family unit is the most threatening thing there can be to a government that seeks to control its people.

This reminded me of Neil Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business. Postman says that while most apocalyptic conspiracy-theorists think the world will go the way of 1984, with a totalitarian Big Brother regime limiting all free thought and action, we are more likely to go the way of Brave New World. (flashbacks to high school English class, anyone?) In Brave New World, the authorities aim to distract everyone with sex and entertainment, and to break down any private, personal attachments. Promiscuity and birth control are encouraged, and what children do result are raised communally. All this to break down personal loyalties and the possibility of an intimate, committed couple sharing their own ideas and their own values in the privacy of their own bedroom--a possibility that Mount considers the most subversive act of all.

So it is this that helps Gilbert make peace with her inevitable marriage. She feels forced to marry by the government, and assumes that marriage is the government's way of controlling people. Through all her studies, though, she realizes that marriage isn't something the government (or religion--another fear of Gilbert's) forces on people. Rather, people have always been inclined to create intimate family units--to marry, whether affirmed by the state or not--and the church and state adapt along the way, making rules and regulations about who can and can't get married, what papers you must sign, how long you must wait, etc., so they can feel like they have some element of control.

Always a fan of marriage as I've been, I never worried about the government trying to control me through marriage or whatnot, but I still agree that the private circle cultivated in marriage is the most alluring and valuable part of the institution. I think of the close bond Matt and I share, and I know that the most painful part of any breaking of that marital bond would not be the the sharing of passion with someone else, but the opening of that closed circle of trust. We share the best and worst parts of ourselves, and rest assured we will still be loved and accepted, for better or for worse.

Why Get Married? (part 1)

I recently read Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage at the suggestion of a single friend of mine who has been pondering the question "Why get married?"
Committed is a sort of follow-up to NYT bestseller Eat, Pray, Love. I never actually read that one, but apparently, at the end of her trek across Italy, India, and Indonesia, Elizabeth Gilbert met a Brazilian man of Australian citizenship and fell in love. Both divorced, the pair agreed they never wanted to get legally married again. But, when U.S. Immigration catches onto his frequent, long-term visits to the U.S., they are told that they better get married if her man wishes to live in America. So, knowing they must tie the knot, Gilbert spends the nine months or so of their exile (while hiring immigration lawyers, etc.) studying the institution of marriage from a historical and cultural perspective, trying to come to terms with matrimony.

Gilbert, in the end, was convinced because she wanted to be. She had to be. My friend, with no legal pressure to wed, was not convinced. And me? Married for 3 1/2 years as I had always wished to be? I read the book with great curiosity and deep self-analysis.

Years ago, another confirmed-bachelorette friend asked me a similar question: "Why do you want to get married so badly?" I answered her, "because I want to have children, and marriage is a precursor to that." (The countless single parents out there could prove otherwise, but I was raised pretty traditionally, and never questioned the notion that marriage should precede childbearing.) I have ALWAYS wanted children. Lots of them. In elementary school (back when I still thought they had to cut you open to get babies out) I wanted twelve. I think there was a set of twins and a set of triplets in there. By high school, it was down to six, then four, and now three... or four, but only if we win the lottery or something.

I have always wanted to get married and have children. And I always assumed I would get married straight out of college, like my parents did. I was that super-annoying girlfriend who assumed every boyfriend was The One. And I know I put Matt through hell with my frustration over being 24 with a bare left hand. He still teases me over my most desperate lament: "You're trying to destroy all my dreams!" (Yes, I just admitted that in front of the whole Internet.)

It's embarrassing to admit that now, but I was extremely hung up on getting married. One of the single friends Gilbert interviewed in her study of marriage actually articulated my feelings quite well. Marriage would be validation, she said. A man's proposal would prove she was worthy of love. She was good enough. Good enough to be chosen. I recall wailing to Matt (in the same "dream-destroying" conversation, as I recall) "Why is [so-and-so] married? Is she prettier than me or better than me?"

(Ugh. This is why Kate will be raised with an anti-princess mentality.)

It's less embarrassing to go with the marriage=babies train of thought. And that actually is pretty wise, I think. There is an article from The Atlantic that I love and that I have sent at least three single friends the link to. It's called "Marry Him! The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough." I read and fell in love with this article years after marrying Matt, so I am in no way saying I "settled" for the world's greatest husband and daddy. But Lori Gottleib--the writer of that article--makes a great point in saying that when deciding whether or not to marry--or who to marry--one should consider not physical passion or even emotional chemistry, but rather the lifestyle one wants.

Ok, I wanted kids, and I married a man who also wanted kids. Great! But Gottleib's point about practicality goes beyond that.

I certainly wasn't thinking of this back in 2005, but the really cool thing--even "God thing"--that I honestly never anticipated, is that the details of our "lifestyle" have worked out perfectly, even without my planning. When Matt and I married, I wanted to quit working when I had kids. If I were marrying for "lifestyle" at that point, I should have chosen someone with a salary that could support a stay-at-home-mom and three kids. Instead, I married a pastor. For love. We couldn't live on just his salary (not if we still want CNN and Comedy Central, that is) but it turns out I love my job and want to keep working. As it turns out, the "practical" benefit to my choice of husband is his flexible career that allows for two Daddy-Daughter-Days a week.

The practical side of marriage is a good thing. Elizabeth Gilbert interviewed indigenous South Asian women about their marriages, and they had no romantic notions about chemistry or their own "worthiness." Gilbert asked them, "Is your husband a good husband?" and they laughed at her. He is what he is. Marriage is what it is. It is part of their lifestyle, and--since we do have so much freedom of choice these says--it is a choice of lifestyle for us today.


..... I don't like long blog posts, so I'm going to break this into two since I haven't really even gotten to the argument that finally convinced Gilbert in the end of her book. In the meantime, though, tell me (and my friend): why did you choose to get married? If you're not married, why do you want (or not want) to be?

The Secret to Marital Bliss

My grandparents celebrated their 73rd anniversary today. Yep, they were married on January 2, 1937, just a week after my grandmother's 18th birthday.

Given that they've been married longer than some people live, I thought I would ask them their secret to marital bliss. Actually, I think I said "marital success," not "bliss," which is probably a secret in itself, since longevity requires enduring times that aren't so blissful.

Nana responded, "Well, I think it comes down to the three 'P's: patience, perseverance, and prayer."

Grandpa added a fourth 'P' that I think sums it all up: "Just put up with each other!"

Amen to that, Grandpa. Happy anniversary!