Hooked.

At the time I met my husband, I was vehemently opposed to getting married.

Just after turning 30, I took a long pause and reevaluated e v e r y t h i n g.

I've always believed that the most opportune times for growth are in the valleys of life. That is when you are challenged, stripped of what you know, become vulnerable and most often, this is where things begin to transform. 

During those years, I reevaluated my goals. I spent time understanding my disappointments. I bathed in my mistakes. I grieved the failed relationships and began to rebuild, internally. I analyzed my aspirations - my why. I felt grit and determination, seething through humility. I respected family and learned their choices were not mine. All of it.

SO MUCH TO UNPACK.

For the first time in years, I felt I had a better understanding of my broken, humble self and simultaneously had a relatively broad plan to live truly, to love wildly, with reckless abandon... marriage didn't have to be a part of the equation any more.

I was mentally throwing away everything that had been engrained within for so long and it was freeing beyond measure. 

During this same time, I became adamant that I was going to adopt a baby in my future. This has been a dream of mine for years, intensified while volunteering at orphanages in Africa & Asia. 

I had a plan, independent of anyone or anything.

 

So much so, I told my (now husband) Michael, on our third date... "Just so we're on the same page, I have no interest in getting married or having children."

(Good God. I look back now and think, "How on earth did we even have a FOURTH date? What a crazy person!)

At that time, it didn't matter. I felt it in my core and couldn't wait to share it with the world (or whomever might care or listen). Independence exuded and I wasn't afraid of anything.

Well, shit.

Then, I fell in love.

I remember the exact moment of 'succumbing' to that over-whelming feeling.

I was in the shower (alone) and thought to myself, "I really think I love this guy. This is so different than the other times I've thought/been in love. How can I show him this is different from the past? Everything is so easy. It is mutual and kind, adventurous, and all encompassing. It is extraordinary!”

I literally thought to myself, ‘I think I'm going to have to marry this man."

I got out of the shower.

Dried off and we were engaged within six months of meeting.

It was knock your socks down, CRAZY LOVE. 

A love story for another time…

Now.... fast forward a decade+. 

We are best friends (when we don't want to kill each other...) Wait, scratch that. We know each other better than anyone on the planet and would die for the other in a second, without question. The loyalty is real and deafening. We have built a life we love and respect, none of which would be possible without the other. We have had a million hard times navigating marriage and parenting and frankly, just getting on each others' nerves... but the foundation is solid.

That said... Sharing life with someone, that indepence - whether you want it to or not - it quietly begins to wain. These tiny idiosyncrasies creep up and suddenly are a habits, which slowly begins to develop into roles and unspoken responsibilities that you never defined or agreed upon. Like which side of the bed you sleep on. I don't think that was ever a formal discussion. Where you hang your towel in the bathroom. It just happens and people are creatures of habit, so a custom or habit forms. 

Reflecting on these habits, they develop further into specific 'roles' in our marriage, very distinct, yet subtle. For example:

Michael drives - almost everywhere. 

Michael grills - always.

Michael gets the fish off the hook, he pumps up tires (car and bike). 

He gets the gas. 

He takes out the trash. 

These small, non-definitive roles we have each assumed in our marriage are never spoken aloud. 

No one determined these roles or selected them, we have just assumed them unknowingly.

I take the kids to the doctor. 

I work out the nightmares. 

I give the animals their meds.

I make sure we have sunscreen, are enrolled in school and show up to soccer with a snack + water.

I know the school calendar (and Teachers and deadlines). I organize our social calendar, water the plants, ensure we have hand soap, dental floss and vacations! 

No one gave us these roles, we just have gravitated to them, out of habit over a decade.
I'm not sorry. I don't think it means anything. We just both have different 'jobs' on our 'Team'. 

Until...

Last weekend, I ducked down to Denver for a socially-distanced birthday bike ride for a friend. The kids and Michael stayed in the mountains, leaving our home to myself. The solo drive was gorgeous, then having the quiet time within our home was so rare and immensely appreciated (especially during Covid, where we are all together ALL THE TIME). I was giddy from both the birthday party with girlfriends AND having the autonomy of a night to myself in Denver. Decadent. So much so, the following morning, I sipped coffee quietly in our back yard until my fingers jittered, slow to return to the mountains, appreciating every second of solitude.

Sunday, I climbed back up the hill to see my beloved family and enjoyed all of our assumed roles with adventures and never thought more about it.

The following weekend. My husband had an annual guys biking trip to Crested Butte. Which means, I had our boys Friday - Sunday in the woods. 

Typically, as a family we would choose weekend mountain activities from a list of fishing/biking/swimming/hiking/paddleboard/tennis... 

But to be transparent... it's Michael who loads our mnt bikes on the overly-complicated bike rack and it's Michael who ties our flies. It's Michael who lights the grill and carries the paddleboard to the lake, while I'm schlepping dinner, chairs and the oar. 

I want to be clear. This is not something I just sit back and expect. These are roles that have just been assumed over the years. Maybe that's my fault, but usually while he is loading the bikes, I'm doing the kid's sunscreen. While he is pumping up the bike tires; I’m ensuring we all have water and snacks or life jackets for the paddleboard.... These are not excuses. These are just our natural paths to ultimately complete a unified goal, where we divide and conquer.

I have a little grit in my bones (thanks, Dad) and by damned if I didn't want to bike/fish/grill/paddleboard this same weekend, while Michael was gone.

Feeling slightly out of my skin and trying not to reveal my trepidation to the boys, I loaded our bikes (breaking a rear derailer) on the bike rack. I packed up our rods (and the tools to get the fish off the hook and the thing to keep our flies dry and the net and the nymphs, flies and extra tippet!) Secretly, I said a quiet prayer that if we didn't catch anything, I wouldn't have to deal with the fish....

It's not a secret that I have fallen in love with fly fishing in the last year. More often than not, I don't care if we catch anything. I love seeing our boys play in the river. I love the river moving below my feet. I love the sounds of the cast, coupled with the intricacies of the flies. I find it fascinating and challenging, peaceful and thrilling, wrapped up into each experience. 

That said, I never said I was any good.

I loaded the car with bikes, rods, a picnic and the three of us set out for an adventure!

The boys and I started fishing with the rigs that Michael had set earlier, from a previous day, on our rods.

I knew they were wrong. They were set for the Eagle River and I had taken us to Gore Creek. I watched the hatch and knew we no longer needed nymphs, but instead a dry fly. 

I dared to switch out the rig. 
I never had before. But I had watched Michael meticulously - I just never needed to do it on my own. (He always did it for me).

I changed our rigs six times in an hour. (I learned to nail the knot!)

I watched what was hatching (instead of being told). 

I matched the hatch to the flies. 

I CAUGHT A RAINBOW!!

You could have heard my celebratory screams for two counties. 

Candidly, I could have cared less about the fish.... I was ecstatic because I had done it on my own! 

I didn’t realize how hungry I was to feel it - that independence - the exhilaration is the same from catching the fish, but it was so much deeper, like an affirmation that I could do it, after all this time having someone do it for me.

That's not all. 

I had the pliers and the net... IT FELT AMAZING!!!!!

I beamed the entire way back to the house (of course we couldn't ride the bikes because I had broken one getting it on the hitch) but one for one isn't bad!

With the sudden rebirth of self-determination, I declared to the boys that we were having hamburgers and planned to grill out! 

Riding my fish-high, I took a futile stab at an over-used grill, I have never seen before. 

I turned on the gas. 

Of course, the ignitor didn't function. 

I've seen Michael drop a match in the grill 1,000 times.

I dropped one match -  to no avail. 

Struck a second. Nothing.

I leaned in closer, trying to see if there was a better placement for the match.

Third time is a charm...

WWWWWHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLFFFFFFF!

The fire bomb, not only claimed my eyebrows but formed an entire fire cloud, enough so that you heard others gasp in horror simultaneously in the common area. 

I took a big breath, first to assure I was alive and then second to ensure my eyebrows weren't the only things on fire. 

I looked at the quickly assembling crowd (asking if I was okay) and said, "Well, that worked!"

It wasn't pretty. But I did it. 

Over our burned dinner, I asked the boys their favorite part of the day. One of them said, "Seeing you catch that fish, Mommy! You were so happy!"

He was right in so many ways. 

And it was just the beginning.