Flower Power

Flowers— the romantic staple.

There’s an adage I’ve coined regarding flowers and the Mrs. It reads: A single rose on a random Tuesday is worth more than a dozen on Valentine’s Day.* Let me explain. If you want your wife to feel loved, cared for, appreciated, etc., you need to show her (remember: talk is cheap) you’re thinking of her on a regular basis. Like a high-level college course, you cannot expect to get a passing grade with your wife if all you do is show up for the three major exams— Valentine’s Day, Birthday and Anniversary. You need to put in some class time and do your homework.

Another truism I’ve found in the world of floral gesture: Timing of the delivery is just as important as the flowers themselves. Here’s what I mean. Most wives enjoy receiving flowers. They are even more appreciative when the colorful tokens of your love are unexpected. But if you’re genuinely looking to rack up some extra credit, have the fragrant flora delivered to her when she’s in the company of other women. This way she’ll be the envy of her female peers or co-workers. What better way to make her the center of attention than a bright bouquet for everyone to see. After all, she deserves her time in the sun.

Thus ends the lecture.

As for me, I sent my wife a professional arrangement on Tuesday. In following my own advice, I had them delivered to her Women’s Bible study— plenty of ladies there to make envious. As far as I can tell, they were a big hit. In the end, I simply want her to know that she is a wife worthy of praise and truly cherished. She deserves all the love I can show her.

* Note: Adhering to this philosophy does not absolve you of your Valentine‘s Day responsibilities. Unless your wife lives in a bomb shelter with no access to the outside world (and short wave radio doesn‘t count), you still need to do something for her on February 14th. I know that’s a hard truth fellas— but marriage, like reality, isn’t for wimps.

4 Steps

When I last posted, we had come off a successful Mother’s Day and I was looking ahead, keeping my mind open for fresh ideas.* I now have a few things in the works that I’m excited about. We’ll get to them later. As for the present, I am happy to report that this week is going well. My wife has been smiling with a much greater frequency and her overall mood seems to be pointing in a cheery, amorous direction. These are positive changes, worthy of note. For my part, I have been striving to follow four simple rules that I believe are keeping me on the right path. They are (in no particular order):

1. Be her friend.
2. Let her be.
3. Shut up and smile.
4. Trust God.

Being her friend is of utmost importance. More than ever, she needs me to be there for her without any strings attached. That means listening, helping out, offering encouragement, being supportive and not acting like an overbearing husband.

Letting her be is all about space. This rule helps me to focus on patience and self control. I need to put aside my needs and wants so she can feel safe to come out of her shell. If she desires a hug, kiss or cuddle, she’ll let me know. The key is to back off and let her initiate.

I should tattoo the third directive on my arm. I can’t number the occasions I’ve ruined a wonderful moment with an untimely question or inappropriate comment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t communicate. But you don’t call a time-out during a no-hitter to remind your pitcher that he has almost finished a perfect game. Overanalyzing or over-thinking a situation is a surefire step to shooting a beautiful evening in the foot.

Last but not least, there’s trusting God. This one is paramount. I’ve said before, God is more than willing to help me with my marriage— and boy, do I ever need His help! As I endeavor to win back the love of my wife, I’m depending on Him to change me from the inside, so that my new insights and behaviors toward my beloved become more permanent. In addition, I can lean on Him and trust in His timing when things don’t seem to be progressing at the rate I would prefer.

So far, so good.


* Wife Wooing Maxim # 27: If you sit back and coast on your latest success, you will lose romantic momentum.

Mother's Day

Ah, Mother’s Day— the Hallmark of Hallmark holidays.* Regardless of how you feel about it, if you have children, you are on the hook. Even if your wife agrees that this forced, once-a-year spotlight on motherhood is just another conduit for consumerism in our counterfeit excuse for a culture, you still better have something planned for her “special” day— if you know what’s good for you.

This year, I decided to honor the mother of my children with a surprise lunch at the North Carolina Museum of Art. This is a date idea that I can highly recommend. The state’s museum is home to a wonderful collection of works that anyone can appreciate. Believe me, I was no art history major in college. But even I recognize names like Georgia O’Keeffe, Andrew Wyeth , and Claude Monet (Hint: He painted those ubiquitous watercolors that adorn the apartment living rooms of every college co-ed.) Plus, the NC museum touts a collection of Flemish masterpieces from the 16th century that are simply Flembulous!** You can walk about the facility at your own pace and when midday approaches, sate your hunger at the stylish Blue Ridge restaurant. Trust me guys. This is a classy move that your wife will appreciate. Mine was no exception.

After casually touring the various galleries, we meandered down to the basement for our meal. I could see my wife was thoroughly pleased. (She was probably expecting me to take her to some bus-your-own eatery where the bottomless fries are the highlight.) She ordered the mixed greens topped with fresh trout and I had the smoked salmon and sweet potato hash from the brunch menu. The service was impeccable as well and our kids even managed to behave themselves. Overall, I think it was a memorable Mother’s Day for my lovely wife. Hopefully, I can keep the surprises coming as we approach the summer months. Stay tuned.



* Don’t sweat me about this, if you please. I’m all for mothers getting their props. I just don’t care for the shameless profiteering that comes with the “holiday.” I know how to make my wife feel special and appreciated as a mother. Here’s the first step: Do something considerate for her on days in addition to the second Sunday in May. There are 364 of them, you know.

** On a side note, there’s something very “win win” about taking your wife on a date to the art museum. She’s happy to be out of the house, doing something interesting and new. In addition, you come off looking less like a troglodyte for engaging in a cultured activity for once. Another romantic benefit: The atmosphere of an art museum typically exudes a reverent stillness encouraging a more muted discourse among the patrons. (Translation: There’s ample opportunity for more personal, intimate conversation as you to stand in close proximity, quietly discussing how certain pieces “speak to you.”) And for all you tightwads, the museum is FREE!

Little Setbacks: Part 2

In the long journey back to the heart of my wife’s love, there will certainly be some stumbling on my part. After all, I am an inherently selfish, flawed person. The good news: so is everybody else— so I don’t have to succumb to hopelessness and self loathing. Even more, I have faith that God will help me in my transformation from bad husband to good husband.* I’ve read He’s very keen on the idea of marriage.

As I concluded in the last post (sorry for the obvious cliff hanger, but I couldn’t resist), things were all set for my wife’s homecoming…and then I messed up. To give you a quick summary of what happened (as I’m sure you’re needed elsewhere), I was all ready for her to arrive when the phone rang. It was my beloved. She was feeling refreshed, happy and thankful for the time spent at the retreat center. I, on the other hand, was a little moody. Scratch that. I was VERY MOODY with a dense, black cloud following my very mindset as if attached by a string. My children, God bless them, were not simply on my last nerve, but pulverizing it with what felt like a combination jackhammer/meat cleaver. In short, I desperately wanted relief from my parental duties. When I answered the call from my wife, she informed me she was just then departing for home. I had been expecting her to come rolling in at any minute. I had forgotten she was staying through the lunch hour. She heard the obvious disappointment in my voice and things went downhill from there. In sum, I made her feel guilty for taking a much needed leave and she cried all the way home.

So there it is. That’s precisely the way I do NOT wish to behave. That’s exactly the type of jerk I do NOT want to be. But, that’s what happened.

Thankfully, my wife and I are able to communicate. We rarely let anything fester for more than an hour or so before we talk it out. And after several conversations that day, things between us were much better. I am truly grateful to God for giving me a wife with such a forgiving spirit. Her heart is a beautiful, delicate jewel that I should handle as tenderly as a glass snowflake. With God’s help, I will guard it like the priceless treasure it truly is.
Next up: Mother’s Day!

*Actually, He gets 100% of the credit for any progress, but that’s a theological discussion we can approach later.

Little Setbacks: Part 1

As I posted previously, my lovely wife has been on a retreat. She needed some time to get away and simply be alone with God, without the distractions that follow her from day to day. That means I’ve been playing the role of Mr. Mom with our two children. Usually, the shoe is on the other foot with the Mrs. traveling with the kids on some trip and me left at home to work. These are by and large relaxing times for me. I’m basically free to run the house by my own code. I can play a war movie at 100 decibels while grilling a 72 ounce T-bone, if I choose.¹ With no offspring to riddle my patience with incessant questions firing at 30 rounds per minute, I have time to enjoy those little things I once took for granted, like thinking, reading or doing both in the bathroom. (Maybe that’s too much information.) But after a few days, the novelty wears off and I begin to miss my family and prepare for their return. For my wife especially, I always make sure to have the house semi-immaculate and in proper order. After all, she’s been flying solo with the kids. The least I can do is have her domicile clean and organized, ideally with a delicious dinner waiting when she arrives. By contrast, on the handful of occasions where I’m left alone with the twin tornadoes, she’s typically at ease if she returns to find the house still standing, no court summons from social services and me hanging around for at least 5 minutes before I split.

Well, these are special times. I decided to forgo my usual fleeing the scene and have the house nice and spiffy to welcome her back. I also had a big flank steak marinating with baked potatoes to boot. But the real shocker that was sure to be a surprise hit was dirt—50+ cubic feet of rich, dark top soil, neatly distributed in her new flower bed.

She had recently constructed a half-circle retaining wall using recycled bricks and wanted to fill in the space with dirt (dark dirt to be exact). She purchased five 40lb bags of soil but wasn’t even close to covering the surface area, not to mention filling the depth created by the wall. I knew she wanted the bed packed, so I heeded my brother’s advice and got a truckload of dirt from our neighbor’s private landfill. (Thanks Glen!) The terra was terrific! It was dark (as requested) with little to no debris and (best of all) totally free! My children even enjoyed the trip in the pickup as we journeyed to the land of the ravenous, diesel-powered dinosaurs.²

After unloading the earth, her flower bed was ready for cultivation. Now everything was in place for a grand welcome home. It was going to be perfect.

And then I blew it.


¹Once, I even prepared a steak while wearing nothing but my shorts and then consumed it right from the grill. No joke. I turned off the burners, sliced up the succulent slab of juicy bovine and ate it while standing, without so much as a plate. Now that’s freedom!

²Have you ever been to a landfill where there’s giant earth moving equipment? You feel like you’re in Jurassic Park without the blood and carnage.

Little Things To Brighten Her Day: Part 2

The underwear drawer mission was a success. Neither my wife nor our children caught me, so I didn’t face any awkward explaining. Before planting the chocolate, I had adorned the treat with a miniature decoration—a trimmed-down, bright yellow sticky note with a minute, hand-drawn heart.* Later, an empty wrapper appeared on her dresser confirming she had found the sweet. Since the candy had been consumed, I could only assume that she was pleased to find it. That assumption leads me to an important side note.

During this time of romantic pursuit, I have to keep my expectations in check. Some of the things I will attempt in order to win my wife’s affections will be helpful in said quest. Others may conclude with less success. Either way, I may receive positive feedback for the effort, or not. The key is that she feels loved and appreciated, not that she gives me big kudos for trying. Sure, we all long for that elusive pat on the back, but I must not be discouraged if it doesn’t come. I need to remain diligent regardless, doing the right thing because she deserves it.

The final weekday “filler” was a certificate for a foot massage. I used a random “cards & crafts” template that came standard on my computer and altered the format to dress it up. The finished version was printed on heavy stock paper, neatly trimmed, and discreetly tucked into a book that my wife is currently reading. She is simply nuts about this book and the way she has been pouring through it, I was sure she would discover the gift in a matter of days, if not hours. After three days had passed, I started dropping hints.
“Hey, are you going to take that book on your trip?”** I asked.
“Yes. But, if you’re interested in reading it, I can order a copy for you,” she replied.
“No. That’s OK… I can wait until you’re finished,” I said, hoping my inquiry didn’t sound too suspicious. She gave me a peculiar glance and then resumed her work. I decided to let the matter rest. Hopefully, she will discover the card in a few days and it will make her smile. After all, that’s supposed to be the point.



* I highly recommend some form of wrapping or signature with any hidden candy surprises. Otherwise, your wife may wrongly assume that your 4 year old is stealing and hiding the confections or beginning to develop OCD tendencies as exhibited by hoarding behavior. Remember, we’re trying to romance the wife, not cause unnecessary motherly anxiety.

** She’s going away for a restful, three-day retreat this week. This mini-spring break has been planned for awhile, so don‘t worry. She’s not leaving me or anything. She will return—she has assured me. Then again, the kids will be left with me and she has been packing an inordinate amount of clothes for such a short excursion. Better attach that homing device under the car. Thanks Radio Shack!

Little Things To Brighten Her Day: Part 1

Growing up, my father didn’t give me an abundance of advice regarding women. Then again, he may have told me all I would ever need to know when he said, “Son, pay them a lot of attention.” Wise man.

Taking his words to heart, I set out to find several ways to show my wife that she is constantly on my mind. After all, “paying her a lot of attention,” means more than simply muting the TV, turning your head towards her general proximity and then (most importantly) shutting up for long enough to listen. You have to remind her that you are thinking about her, even when you’re not around. Here, I’m referring to notes, little gifts and surprises— loving “fillers” to make her smile and keep you in her good graces until the next big date.

Now, in this economy, my finances are tighter than they’ve ever been. So, I must make every dollar count.* Fortunately, you can create “thinking of you” whatnots for free (or next to nothing). This week I pulled together three items for her to stumble across**— a love note, a piece of chocolate and a certificate for a foot massage. I know, it doesn’t sound very impressive. But, one idea that I’ve found truthful is that it’s better to shower my wife on a regular basis with many small gifts than to present her with the one-time, colossal present. Think I’m wrong? OK, a quick question for the women who’ve been married more than two years: When was the last time you glanced down at that showpiece engagement ring— you know, the one NASA can see from outer space— and then felt all warm, gooey and affectionate towards your husband? Thank you. Like I said, my lady appreciates quantity, not just quality.

The note was simple enough. I took a small piece of paper and wrote about how beautiful she was, how happy I am to have her in my life and how much I love her. I rolled it up and placed it in a miniature decorative bottle that sits upon our kitchen window sill. Now, all that was needed was for her to make the discovery. That didn’t take long and I happened to be there when she found it.
“Is that for me?” she said, motioning towards the container and beaming with a tiny, Mona Lisa smile. I nodded and she went to retrieve the message. Of course, by this point, the paper had long since unrolled and removing it through the narrow glass opening proved more tedious for her than I had expected. Long story short, she finally got it out. Though it now appeared somewhat crinkled and ripped, she told me it was sweet. Feeling pleased with her response, I made a mental note to hide the next surprise in a place with easier access. So, I buried the chocolate in her underwear drawer.*** There, I could be confident she would venture at least once a day.

*I’m sure you think that money should be no object when it comes to love and romance. But, don’t forget that we are married. If I was single, then liquidating my 401K in pursuit of love would be a grand gesture worthy of a Hallmark Channel movie-of-the-week. If I did that now, however, I would be spending money that belongs to her as well. And as much as my wife enjoys being doted on, she also cherishes the idea of not having to live on the street during her golden years.

**I like to hide the little “thinking of you” stuff in a place where she won‘t immediately notice, but is still likely to come across eventually. I have to remind myself though, that my goal is for her to actually find the items. This may seem obvious, but never forget just how stupid a man can be. Nothing says, “My husband is an idiot,” like her finding tickets to the symphony— two weeks after the show was performed.

***The trick with planting something in your wife’s panty drawer is to make sure she is not around when you do it. I mean, she needs to be totally away from the house— just to be safe. Even if your intentions are noble, it just feels downright unseemly to be caught rooting through your wife’s unmentionables.

First Date. Don't Be Late. Part 2

Having no recourse but to ride out the remainder of the ceremony, I made my way back to my seat. I anxiously checked my watch every few seconds or so, hoping that time was miraculously slowing as the pace of the service picked up. With the final remarks and applause, I stood up and began hustling my family towards the door— only to find that milk and cookies had been provided for our enjoyment. My children queued up without a second thought.



I realized that we would be in for another 20 minutes if I didn't do something. I looked at my wife and said, "Is there any way we can take the cookies to go?"

"Why? Is there someplace you need to be?" she responded, obviously thinking that I was behaving like a whiny, frustrated jerk.*

"OK. I'll tell you," I answered. "I called Julia to babysit. She's supposed to be at home, right now. I was planning on surprising you. That's why I was somewhat aloof when I borrowed your phone. I was trying to call her to let her know that we were running late."

Within a moment, it dawned on my wife that she was on the cusp of an evening out, away from the kids. Before I could pull the keys from my pocket, she had the children, cookies in hand, waiting by the car. On the way home, she called the baby sitter's mother (smart thinking) and got the new cell number. Julia had already left our house, assuming that the evening had been cancelled, but was happy to return. I was relieved that my plans had not ended in complete disaster.**

We ended up at our favorite Irish pub, The Hibernian. It's a great place to go on a Sunday night— all pints just $2.75! We had a semi-late dinner and enjoyed watching the Carolina Hurricanes defeat New Jersey in Game 6.*** How cool is that?!





*After almost 9 years of marriage, you start to pick up on these things.

**The only thing worse than neglecting to take your wife out is telling your wife about the grandiose plans you have for the evening and then failing to follow through.

***Yes, my wife appreciates watching the occasional hockey game. So, please don't tear me a new one about taking her to a bar to watch sports on our date.

First Date. Don't be Late. Part 1

OK, to start things off, I decided to take my wife out on a date (simple enough, right?). Even better, I thought I would make the date a surprise. I contacted Julia, our babysitter, and found that she was available on Sunday the 26th. I told her to be at my house at 7:30 and not to mention anything to my wife (it was a surprise after all).

That night, as I had been informed earlier by the wife, me and the Mrs. would be attending an end-of-the-season closing ceremony for our children's program. I had been told it would be over by around 7:30. I thought, "How pleasantly surprised my wife will be when we arrive home afterwards to find our babysitter ready to take over. Wow, what a guy!"

That plan was right on schedule until 7:20. At that point, I realized there was NO WAY this ceremony would be concluded in ten minutes. Not having a cell phone on me, I nonchalantly whispered to my wife, "Let me borrow your phone for a second."
"What do you need my cell phone for?!!! Who are you going to call right now?!!!" she responded in a loud, suspicious tone.
I smiled nervously to everyone who turned and stared in my general direction, then responded,
"I'll tell you later. Just give me your phone!"
I quickly excused myself, stumbled awkwardly down the isle and made for a quiet hallway. Pulling up my wife's contact list, I found "Julia" and hit the send button. "Julia" answered after a few rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey Julia. Sorry to bother you, but we're running a little late. We probably won't be home till around 8:00."
"What? Who is this?" an elderly, somewhat confused voice replied.
"Is this Julia?" I asked slightly embarrassed, assuming I must have hit the wrong contact.
"Yes. This is Julia, but I don't know who you are or what you are talking about," answered the thoroughly senior, thoroughly befuddled voice.
I apologized and hung up. A panicky second query of the contact list showed, to my dismay, no other "Julia" to call.
I was trapped at the ceremony with the clock ticking and no way to contact the babysitter.

Follow the Adventure

Quick Background Info:
I've been married to my wife for going on nine years. I know, you're impressed already. Me too. Now, if you've been married for any length of time past the Margarita-fueled love fest that was your honeymoon, you're doing well for yourself. Let's face it, keeping a marriage going is not as easy as the Hollywood celebrities make it look. It actually involves some significant effort—like maintaining a vehicle. It's easy at first, but before you know it, you've gone 6000 miles without so much as an oil change. And once you start neglecting the routine maintenance, you are heading for a major breakdown.*

Sound familiar ladies? Well, that was me. Yet another lazy, selfish husband neglecting his wife.

So, after the BIG TALK with the Mrs. (guys you know where I'm coming from), I decided to take action.

It's time for me to start pursuing my wife again with a fresh, romantic perspective. You know what I'm talking about— flowers, surprises, poetry, more listening, more attention to her needs, more attention to my personal hygiene— in short, the works.

That said, I invite you to follow along and see what happens. You can root for me to succeed or hope that I fall on my face and end up a humiliated heap of blubbering emasculation. Enjoy!

*Don't worry. I promise not to use any more mechanical analogies. Just trying to make a simple point. Now, let's talk about our feelings.