Thirst.

There’s something tapping. There’s a knock; each time I attempt to greet the hammering echo, I can only grasp emptiness. I am certain something vast is lingering, I just do not know what it is. It’s creating a mystery and curiosity that is flowing through me similar to a rushing river. I can’t find the beginning or the end, but I hear it, and it’s alive. 

I believe this river of mine has been flowing for years. The ebb and flow is similar to the ocean tide. It’s clean, then dirty, cloudy, then clear. It’s traveling over smooth and rough terrain shifting speeds and turning corners. It’s got a hunger to trek through mountains and meadows leaving heavy rocks behind yet pushing tiny pebbles forward. This river of mine is like an itch I can’t scratch. I know it exists I just can’t reach it. 

Quite the dramatic intro, I know, but it’s sincere. Of course, there is no river flowing through me, (besides the occasional times I’ve peed my pants), but there is something brewing and growing within my head, heart, and soul. There are things I want to do and places I want to see that move beyond where I am right now. The most frustrating part is that I’m the only one aware, and still feeling clueless.

Let’s dissect what I do know and search for truth and evidence. This authentic feeling directly relates to my profession and hobbies. Although I am still new, I’m learning to love to teach and get pleasure from feeling proud, needed, and productive. I enjoy the diverse community, I savor the warm tender feelings of watching a kid understand fractions for the first time, and I find the constant sound of little laughs irresistible. I envision myself teaching for quite some time. However, I see teacher and _______ defining me. I have this ache. This hammering echo. This rushing river. This desperate volcano. Whatever THIS is, is beginning to surface;  I’m vulnerably grasping to find the safe doorway in the midst of an earthquake. My adrenalin is pumping and I’m LOVING the rush.

Come and get me. 

wifeliness.

Dear great wives,

Wifeliness. Webster says it's not a word—he’s crazy. Allow me to explain. Being a schoolteacher allows me to spend hours upon hours in the summertime doing what ever I please.  Sounds great, right? It is, however, I’ve been overtaken but this thing called, hmmm a wife! Considering I’ve only been a wife for a short 18 days, I’m exhausted. For those of you that know me closely, I’ve been very blessed. Here’s why- I married a man whose very good-looking, athletic, loves God, and he’s witty, but I also married a man who cooks, cleans, does laundry, cleans my car, takes out the garbage, scrubs the toilets, sweeps the floors, irons, gets the mail, locks the door at night, helps with the groceries, and kisses me ever so softly on the nose when he’s finished. Yeah, I know, dream come true! It seems wonderful, (and it is), but it’s left me quizzical. What do I possibly contribute to this marriage?

So, as I was prepping for my wedding day, I was also trying to prepare for becoming a wife. Most normal women seem to transition so smoothly, but I’m anything but normal, so they say. Let’s face it, I knew being a wife (for me) would be a lot of burnt dinners, shrunken clothes, and unpaid bills. I also knew that Luke would sit back, relax, and admire my struggle while thinking it’s cute. I’m here to tell you, that is exactly what’s happening in the Gum’s residence.

Nonetheless, since we’ve been married, I’ve been a cooking, cleaning, and laundry-doing fanatic! I love being Luke’s wife because there is no pressure, but I’ve exhausted myself; it’s a hard job! I’ve looked at more cook books and cooking blogs than I ever have in my life. I sweep our floors every day and still manage to find crumbs. I’ve learned which clothes of his need to be hand washed, hang dried, and washed on a delicate cycle. I’ve made our bed everyday, hung pictures, killed ants, and even bought his favorite beer! When I hear the keys outside the door, I do a few jumping jacks (no joke) to seem alert and wide awake to greet him after a long day of work. Of course, a great wife can’t slave all day and be tired!

Great wives, how do you do it?!

Throughout all my tiresome trying to find my wifeliness, I’ve learned so much about unconditional love. The other day Luke and I were getting ready and he said, “Katie, can I tell you something”? My palms grew sweaty, and I got a lump in my throat because I was terrified that he was going to admit to not liking my dinners. My voice quivered and I said, “Yeah…” He walked closer towards me and softly worded, “I want to say that I love you, and you have been doing an amazing job around the house. Nothing has gone unnoticed.” In that moment, I let my guard down, hugged my husband, and said with a large smile, “Thanks.” He knew, and I knew, how much that token of kindness meant to me.

Marriage is awesome. I highly recommend it.

Blissfully exhausted,

A not-so-perfect new wife

soon to come.