Five things I forgot I learned about being a wife

Dear future me,

So you're in need of a refresher course in wife-ing eh?

As I sit in the apartment I share with my husband, thinking about what I need to get done before tomorrow (confession: this wasn't on that list), I was thinking about some of the lessons I find really useful as a young, relatively newly married person.

What I go back to time and time again are the women in my young life who showed me what it is to be a wife, an employee and a unique, vibrant person all at the same time. And some most of them were moms too. Still having trouble wrapping my brain around how they did all of that.

Now, there's no way to emphasize enough the education I received through the example and wisdom of the older ladies I know. I can't count my adopted grandmothers on this earth and my birth grandmothers... well there really aren't words for all the wisdom they've shared with me.

Then there are the ladies around my mom's age and younger who I've been close to. That's the group I want to focus on.

These are the ladies whose lives I became a part of in the thick of it, the busiest part of their lives. I saw them interact with their husbands, handle work stress, manage their responsibilities at home and herd children... (sometimes me included).

So I put together some things I tend to forget I learned from these women for those days when I need a little guidance.

• None of them do it the same way. 

There's no magic formula that makes your family run how you want it to. I think about this when I feel insecure about doing something differently than how my mom did it, or how my grandma taught me to do it, or how my friends do it. Everybody has to run their lives in the way that works for them. If it's not working, do be afraid to do something differently. This is true even (and maybe especially) if other women pressure you to conform to something that's not working for you.

• None of them do it perfectly. 

Sometimes even when we do things the way that normally works for us, to the best of our abilities, we still come up short. I think that's scary, especially when you think about the added responsibility that comes with being a wife or a mother. When the people you love most depend on you to come through for them, failure is a scary concept. But the thing is, everybody fails sometimes. What's really inspiring to me is to watch someone get up and deal with that reality, clean up after their mistake and not be afraid to keep going.

• They are not always happy

Sometimes when you have a loving husband or a cute baby or a nice house people just expect that you never have anything to be unhappy about. But that's not reality. I think the happily-ever-after at the end of the Disney movie makes a lot single women (past, past me included) feel like once we get married our most dramatic, difficult time will be behind us. That is definitely not the case. Marriage is not a bubble that protects you from reality. It's very real. And sometimes it's really difficult. That's when I think about these women that I grew up around who went through really difficult times in their marriages. I caught a glimpse of the reality of committing yourself to another person for life. I saw that seemingly insurmountable issues can be overcome if you and your husband are willing to sacrifice for it. I'm grateful for these women being open about their lives with me. What these women have done for their families makes me want to work harder and be stronger for mine. 

• Being a Mrs. doesn't mean you have to lose yourself

Having a vibrant personality, quirks and interests don't have to go away when you put on a wedding band. Sometimes I think some young wives get caught up on being the perfect cake-topper bride and forget to be themselves. Want to neglect the kitchen for a day and paint a picture instead? do it. I'm not saying you need to neglect your family for these things, but having personal time here and there is important. Self sacrifice doesn't mean as much if there's nothing left of you to give. So much of what we do is for appearances anyway. Sometimes I find it helpful to remember how fun it was to be around those women who didn't care if their carpet was outdated or their house wasn't spotless. They just lived life and shared with others genuinely. Skip the pretenses; just be yourself.

• It's worth it even when it's not easy

The epicness that is being a wife can't really be described. Sharing your life with the love of another person is a special gift. Cherish it. 

Okay, now get back to it, lady!

Sincerely, 

Past me

Texas our Texas

I promised to write about repping Texas in ND so here goes nothin'.  

I was never really the kind of Texan to buy and display or wear very much Texas-themed merchandise. 

Because I lived in Texas my entire life (until recently), rarely left and almost always surrounded myself with fellow citizens, I didn't realize how much of my identity is rooted in the lone star state.

But now I get it. 

And it shows. From my first day at work when a stranger said "you're not from here," after I uttered about 4 words, I knew I couldn't hide my Texas roots even if I wanted to. 

And I don't. 

I proofread copy for an agriculture magazine, and it took two months for me to stop reading farmer's quotes in my dad's accent. 

I still do impressions of all older men with that accent. Because, where I'm from, that's just how they talk...

But I digress... After a few weeks, people seemed to be getting used to me saying y'all. 

Then came the day I said spu-uds. 

 

Allow me to set the scene: 

In ND, if your referring to potatoes casually, you use the term spuds. 

So that's what we call a chart in Agweek that tells about their prices. 

In a hurry one Friday, I was running down the list of charts with my editor, checking off each one as I went. 

"Grain futures, check. Livestock futures, check. ..."

Now, reflect back with me to the golden days of the Cosby show... Remember Rudy's neighbor friend? I never knew his name because she always just called him bud. 

Can you hear her say it? "bu-ud." 

That's pretty much exactly how I said spuds. With all the drawl and twang Loraine, TX could impart, I said it and never thought twice... 

Until my editor started giggling that is...

At first, I was embarrassed. The academic snob in me was taken back to that one time a professor at a conference called me a peasant when I told her I was raised on a farm. (That's a story for another day.) 

Then, I was kind of proud. This is who I am, drawl and all. 

I may not be a Texas resident anymore, but being from Texas is not something you can drop at the border. It's a nationality of sorts, an identity. It's me. 

And I'm glad. 

So... umm... remember the Alamo! (This may not be totally appropriate ending here. But I'm going with it...)

Reflections on 2013

DISCLAIMER: I try to keep it light on my blog. I figure there's enough pessimism, depth and ...well... whining on the internet without me adding my drop to the bucket. But it's New Year's Eve, and I just watched Jerry McGuire (who can watch that movie without getting all philosophical?), so this post is going to be a little different.

Feel free to go back to scrolling through Facebook at any time.

Looking back on the year I've had, I can say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it has been the hardest year of my life so far.

My life has been so blessed, and I know so many others, maybe even you, have a had it much harder than I have in 2013. But for me, this was a really difficult year.

That's not to say it was all bad.

Challenges are often the result of opportunity, and I have been given some great opportunities this year. So there's that.

But sometimes it's hard to see the opportunity for what it is, when the challenge seems insurmountable. Like August 12, 2013, the day I officially moved to Grand Forks, North Dakota, about 1,200 miles from the only part of the world I could imagine calling home.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I cried myself to sleep that night.

I didn't really understand then what I know now. My home is not tied to a place, a region or an old, yellow brick farm house sitting in a field of red dirt. It's tied to my heart, and I gave that to J. Dykowski a (relatively) long time ago.

I just saw a tight knit group of people I didn't know with funny accents, cigarettes and bad taste in Mexican food. I can be a really closed-minded snob sometimes...

To be honest, from the start this experience has been nothing like what J or I thought it would be, but we're learning and growing. It's humbling, and it's hard.

But it's worth it.

Some of the challenges that made this year so difficult are things I didn't get to chose. Like losing my grandpa.

I want to write about him. What he taught me even after he was gone. How he filled a special role in my life. But I can't seem to find the right words. Maybe someday I will. For now I think I'll just leave it alone.

In my "professional" life I've had some challenges too. From delaying graduation to having to find a job outside of my degree, it didn't go according to my plan.

But I did graduate. And I love my current job, and there are exciting opportunities on the horizon for me to continue building my academic CV. So we'll count that as a victory.

2013 had a lot of other challenges, hard choices and victories I won't get into. I feel like I grew as a person, but mostly I just see a long road of struggles ahead and changes I still need to make.

2014 is only about a half hour away. With it comes a whole new set of challenges, opportunities and struggles. I'm probably not ready, but I'm as ready as I can be.

Mostly, I'm just grateful that I don't have to face it alone.

Thank you, friends and family old and new for sticking with me through thick and thin this year.

Happy New Year.

Shoveling snow: Mrs. Dykowski and the great big drift

Dear readers,

Most of you know by now that my journeys in the great white north are a learning experience in more ways than one.

As I type, we're experiencing our first blizzard.

In Texas of course a "blizzard" (I've only seen one that might have been called a blizzard in all my years as a Texan, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't actually count.) means everyone stays home except those people who are absolutely needed for society to function.

That group never included me.

In North Dakota, if you want a snow day, you have to take PTO, and that's not an option for me if I want to go back to Texas without quitting my job. This all leads to one harsh reality of life: driving slow and shoveling snow.

Before today, I thought shoveling snow was fun, I have a pretty red snow shovel, and the snow is glittery and light. You feel so accomplished when you're done shoveling, because the area you cleared is smooth and nice and there's a pile of unwanted snow out of the way that you can look at and say 'I did that!'

Tonight, all of that changed.

Tonight, I drove across town in some crazy snow to get home from work. Luckily most of the roads are well traveled, so it wasn't so bad until I got to the street I live on, which was white, no visible stripes or curb, but I navigated that okay for the 3 blocks to my apartment. Then I turned into the driveway to our garages and my tires started spinning.

On the farm where I grew up, I was notorious for getting trucks stuck in sand in the turn row, so I know a couple of tricks for getting out... (One of them is call dad, but that one doesn't work here.) And snow is different, so I just put the car in park and walked around it to see what the issue was.

There was so discernible issue, so I backed up about a foot and pressed onward, slowly. Finally with two left turns a few hasty prayers, I made it to the row garages to find a great big drift piled in front of the garage door.

Bummer.

I never thought I'd have to dig my way into somewhere. But that's just what I did. I had to take a brief intermission to move my car our of a guy's way in the meantime.

Half an hour later I made it into the garage, finished up shoveling in front of Scott's garage, looked at the mountain I built on the other side and waded to the door.

I say waded because leading up to the door the snow came up to my mid-calf or higher. Thank heaven for tall Northface boots. At first, I wasn't sure the door would open but luckily a strong neighbor had pushed it open just a few minutes before I came in, clearing a path.

Whoa y'all that was some snow! And I'm pretty sure I'll see worse before it's all said and done...

As the North Dakotans say, "yooo betcha!"

The view from our apartment last night.

The view from our apartment tonight.

Mrs. Dykowski goes north: 10 things about North Dakota

As many of you know, J and I moved to North Dakota about 2 months ago.

We and Cat live in a small, 3-floor apartment in a growing side of town.

Every day we drive about 10 minutes through a cute neighborhood, past a coffee shop, bowling alley and Taco Johns -this is especially important to downtown where we work in the same building.

You may well wonder why it's taken me so long to update the world on the latest goings on, let me fill you in.

We drove 22 hours over the two days following my graduation to move here. Within a week, I had started a new job with Agweek, a regional, weekly, agricultural magazine published by the same company that owns J's newspaper.

Between unpacking and settling our apartment, adjusting to a full-time work schedule and learning a new city, there hasn't been much of me left over to share.

Today, however, I decided it couldn't wait any longer...

When we told our fellow Texans we were moving to North Dakota of all places, most of them reacted as if we were about to banished to Siberia... "Don't y'all know it's going to be cold there?" they would say.

That was about all I knew about ND before we moved here. It's cold.

We haven't experienced real cold yet, but we've been preparing. I'll talk more about that in a later post...

Since I got here, there have been some fun surprises and some quirks I wasn't expecting. Here are a few examples:

1. The accent.

I didn't realize the impact ND's proximity to Canada would have on the accents of the people here. They say 'aboat.' They say 'yoo betcha!' all the time. And they take notice when I say y'all. We'll talk more about how I'm reppin' Texas culture later on too. :) The funny thing is, most people I encounter don't think they have an accent at all. Uh... yoo betcha, yoo doo.

2.  Hockey

Hockey is to North Dakota as football is to Texas. This is not very surprising to me in and of itself. What I was shocked to learn is... I love it! It's fast, violent and indoors, what else would you want in a winter sport? Point Midwest!

3. It's SO close to Canada

SO CLOSE! When in an article a reporter used the phrase "south of the border," I had to do a double take. He was talking about North Dakota! The border patrol office near my apartment building, is looking for illegal Canadians... I'd never even considered the possibility of illegal Canadians.

4. Canadians have a reputation for being terrible drivers.

If you see a "friendly Manitoba" license plate headed your way, look out! So they say...the jury's still out with me... Minnesota license plates seem to be just a dangerous. ;)

Fries from the world's largest french fry feed.

5. North Dakotans love french fries!

...And beer. But the french fry bandwagon is the one I can hop on! We even went to the World's Largest French Fry Feed this year. You should have seen the deep fryer they were using!

6. They grow sugar beets

I wasn't even sure this was a real thing when I moved up here, but it's one of the region's biggest crops. When I drive to work this month, I'm usually behind a huge truck full of them, heading over to Minnesota to the sugar factory. In fact, when the trucks hit a bump you have to dodge the beets that fall out on the road.

7. People only grow things that can be eaten

Speaking of crops, when I say my dad grows cotton, I get a funny look. "But you can't eat cotton..." Here, if it can't be eaten by humans, they feed it to the cows. An inedible crop is unheard of... Random fact: cotton seed and cotton seed oil are both edible products of cotton for cows and humans respectively. 

8. People here speak Spanish too!

I thought when we moved north, we'd have our weak knowledge of Spanish as a kind of personal language that very few people would know, we could have conversations without others eavesdropping ...even if they were mostly about our names and random objects. But I was wrong. In line at the grocery store a few weeks ago the family behind us had a whole conversation in it. My boss says it's the only language offered in most high schools. Even one of the families at the tiny church we go to speaks mostly Spanish. I wish I had practiced more in school.

9. People are friendly and helpful

Need directions somewhere? Want to know why some cars have extension cords hanging out the front of their hoods? Want some fresh produce? Want to go to a sporting event without spending any money? North Dakotans to the rescue! Seriously, y'all, people are so helpful here. I ask about 200,000 stupid questions a day about snow, the town, the state. I misspelled Winnipeg at work and no one made fun of me. We had a Bible study in our house and a sister brought us fresh tomatoes from her garden. Not to mention the free things we're constantly being given at work, hockey tickets, fresh produce from the publisher's garden, random ice cream treats, football tickets and so on. People are very accepting and generous here. It's great.

10. Some things are still the same

I'm still Mrs. Dykowski, I still call my mom when I need advice, I'm still a homebody, I still have a lot to learn, I still talk to my closest friends, I still prefer Texas to any state in the union but I would still rather have one day in North Dakota with J than a million in Texas without him.

Stay tuned!

Poor People Food: Spaghetti Edition

With the upcoming move and one income, I've been looking for any opportunities to save money on my grocery bill.

Tonight I wanted to share with you one easy, cheap meal you can make when you're in a hurry, but can't afford to go out.

That's all you need!

I think I need to preface this by saying that J has hated spaghetti for a long time. Since we got married, I've found several creative ways to make it that he enjoys (adding ground beef, fresh squash, or cheese), but they all involve adding expense to the meal.

Recently I discovered that the flavor in the pre-made sauce is what really turns him away. By making my own sauce, I was able to cut the cost of an already affordable meal and please us both! This is starting to sound like a 1950's advertisement. Yikes!

First, I put the spaghetti on to boil with a tiny splash of olive oil and a pinch of salt.

For whatever reason I decided to whisk the sauce in a bowl.
This is unnecessary. 

Then I take a can of tomato sauce that costs less than a dollar and pour into a sauce pan over medium high heat. I add a generous dash of olive oil (probably around 1/8 cup), Italian seasoning, garlic salt and onion powder. I heat it until it starts to pop, stirring regularly. Then I turn it to medium low and stir it more often to keep it from exploding all over the stove, until the noodles are ready.

Tada! Dinner's ready! With one box of off-brand spaghetti and 4 cans of tomato sauce I can make four big meals for around $6. Bam, Martha Stewart! Take that! ;)

When I'm feeling extra adventurous, I mix the sauce and noodles in an oven safe dish and sprinkle white cheese on top. I heat it in the oven at about 200 degrees until the cheese is melted. Mmmmmm

Extra adventurous!

We're Moving???

Isn't it funny how things just seem to work out?

I finally worked my last day as a TA this month, and although we had been preparing, transitioning to one income has not been a picnic.

J's been applying for jobs for a while, and we were sure this week he was right on the precipice of getting a good offer, when he got two.

I can't describe the relief and excitement we felt when that second offer came through. What a great opportunity! I did the dorkiest happy dance ever.

The job is in North Dakota.

This is so exciting. I've never been to ND or even north of Colorado for that matter. I can count the number of Canadians I've met in person on one hand, but I'm going to live so close to the Canadian border, we're already planning a day trip. Do all the women look like Shania Twain and Colby Smoulders? ...just kidding!

I am a little stressed about making the transition. I know it's going to be worth it, but it is going to take A LOT of work and A LOT of driving to get us there.

Once we're there, then what? What will our place be like? I know it's cold, but what does that mean exactly? Will potato ole's be as good as I remember from my childhood? (just go with it.) What about Cat? Are we going to get to take him with us?

So many unanswered questions!

Then there's a duplex full of stuff to concern ourselves with. Our Amazon store has doubled in size in the past week. Need a book? Need 20? 50?

I've got all of this on my mind when I finally turn to the distance. No more quick weekend trips to the farm. Not to mention the 10 days Scott will be up there before I can go. 10 days may seem short, but when you've found your favorite person on earth 10 hours is too long to be apart.

Then I have to find a job for myself. This I think will eventually work out too. But in the meantime it's the cherry on the sundae of questions.

With all of this, I'm still so excited, proud and relieved that we're moving forward with J's career and our life plans. I think the community is going to be great.

Ready or not, here we go!