marriage – Page 2 – Schpilkes The Blog

Conversations from the Driver’s Seat

My life as a driver continues—although I got a break yesterday, as my husband had a friend take him to work. That gave me the rare opportunity to sleep in. Well, to “sleep in” until 7:20 a.m., when Shuki, the family dog, decided I’d slept enough.

I needed a driving break—not because driving itself was the problem, but because someone at work decided to stick an early meeting on my calendar. A meeting I couldn’t take from the car because, of course, they needed to see my face.

Not all meetings are productive. This one definitely wasn’t. Not due to lack of preparation or context, but because of the participants.

When we’re faced with change—professional or personal—we’re not always open to it. There’s fear involved: fear of leaving our comfort zones and confronting challenges that force us to adapt. I couldn’t quite understand the strong reaction in that meeting. I saw the big picture. I had already been part of the transition being discussed. So I was surprised by the resistance.

Back in the driver’s seat today, I shared all of this with my husband. He offered a perspective I hadn’t considered: that people often resist change not because they don’t understand it, but because they’re afraid—afraid of having to learn new things, of stepping into unfamiliar roles, of failing.

Driving still isn’t something I enjoy. I much prefer my “passenger princess” role. We’re still waiting on his medical test results, which is why I’ve taken on this new morning routine. But these forced drives have brought one unexpected benefit: the chance to talk. With our opposing work schedules, we rarely get that during the week.

I still get annoyed when he tells me how to drive. But I do appreciate these small, quiet moments we share together.

From a Passenger Princess to a Warrior Princess

I used to be a passenger princess—and I loved it. My husband did all the driving while I relaxed in the passenger seat, helping with directions, reading a book, or scrolling through social media.

We love road trips, and I probably enjoyed them more because I didn’t have to drive. But then, the seizure came. One moment, my handsome chauffeur was behind the wheel, and the next, I became the driver—and he, the passenger prince.

Let’s just say… he hasn’t adjusted to his new princely status very well. In fact, he’s still learning the etiquette of being a proper passenger prince.

The transition from being the driver (and occasional backseat driver) to sitting quietly in the passenger seat has been a tough one for him. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s asked, “Did you see that car?” or “Why are you taking this route instead of the other one?” and plenty more unsolicited driving commentary.

What’s funny is that for years, I drove the kids around while he never seemed to care how I drove. But now? Suddenly, I’m under review like I’m applying for a chauffeur’s license.

I try to respond with humor—most of the time. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally want to turn him into a frog.

This new role as the warrior princess behind the wheel doesn’t come with an expiration date. My patience, however, occasionally does.

Here’s hoping he gives me five stars on Yelp.

Do Size and Shape Matter? In Salads—and Marriage—Maybe They Do

I love salads—real salads with vegetables in them. Not the kind often served in the United States, which usually means a pile of lettuce and two or three tiny pieces of tomato. Where I come from, some of these leafy greens are considered butcher counter decoration!

My salads are filled with tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes—all chopped into good-sized chunks so you can actually tell what you’re biting into. My husband, on the other hand, loves his lettuce, and he prefers all his vegetables cut into small, even pieces. To be honest, his salads are a display of care and engineering. Everywhere we’re invited, people ask him to make the salad!

My husband is an engineer, and he looks the part—organized, symmetrical, and precise. I’m a little different. I find things that are too orderly boring and unstimulating. So, naturally, my salads (and fruit cutting) reflect that—slightly uneven and far from perfect.

That’s why I usually let him cut the vegetables and fruit—because he gets annoyed with the way I do it! Truthfully, it makes my life easier. He’s technically in charge of prep work and dinner, and I’m more than happy to do the dishes.

When he complained this morning about the “variety of styles” I used to cut the watermelon last week, I laughed and asked if it affected the taste. He agreed it didn’t—but still had to point out that he prefers even sizes.

But, as with most things in marriage, life is a compromise. I cut veggies into big chunks, and he cuts them into small, very even ones. The taste is the same, the complaints are the same—but this is our little dance, and we enjoy it.

Living with a Height Difference: Shelf Life Struggles

We are a house divided, but not by sports teams or political views. It’s something far more concrete—our height—and, more specifically, where we place things on shelves.

I’m what you might call fun-sized, or, as others might say, petite, vertically challenged, or short. My other half, however, is above average height—at 6’2″, we literally have a whole foot of difference between us. I’ve been short all my life, so this was hardly a surprise to him when we got married.

I used to wear heels—heck, I could even run in them. But in the last 30 years, things have changed. Since having kids, I swapped stilettos for sneakers. Playgrounds, strollers, and dog walking are much easier in flats!

Now, my taller half prefers everything to be placed higher up. As for me? I constantly need a step stool just to reach anything. I’ve developed a rather uncanny ability to use everyday utensils to grab things from high shelves, but let’s be real—I’d much rather have everything within reach.

I always thought it was easier to bend down than to reach up, but I might have been wrong. He can never seem to find anything that’s at my eye level. Meanwhile, I’ve learned that shelves at my height are the perfect place to hide things in plain sight from him.

I really tried to compromise. I moved some everyday items to a taller shelf, but that didn’t seem to solve the problem.

Yesterday, he complained about not finding anything because I’d put all the common items on lower shelves. I reminded him, jokingly, that I’ve always been short. He didn’t have a response. Guess there’s no winning when it comes to height!

Benchmarks or how I became a prune.

A year and a half ago I broke my foot, it was completely my fault as instead of looking where I was going, my eyes were glued to my cell phone and I stepped down a step straight onto my dog’s 3 pronged nylabone and lost my balance. Completely avoidable!

Showering was not fun with a broken foot as I needed to sit in a chair in the shower and where the chair could be positioned meant I could not reach the on/off valve. I am after all what some people call “fun size” or vertically challenged. That meant that my husband had to be around and turn the water off for me. And here lies the problem, he forgot me. He sometimes had to answer work calls or someone pinged him on teams and he just forgot me. He claims he really did not forget, he was just getting around to it, really. While I was sitting in the shower with the water all over me I considered adding a middle name , Prune. You would think that sitting in the warm water is nice, it is, to a point. I managed, god knows how, to get up on one functioning leg, turn off the faucet and get out of the shower while maneuvering the chair to do this. Surprisingly I did not break any other bones in my body or the shower glass door on my way out. There is something to be said about being short in a tall world, I learned tricks and ways to reach.

We are finally remodeling our shower, a shower that is just slightly younger than me but in many ways is stronger than me. After we agreed to compromise and my husband compromised in letting me choose whatever weird tile I wanted, the topic of adding a bench or shelf came up. My husband suggested a bench so the next time I break my foot we will not need to use a chair. My response was, thank you for the vote of confidence but why would you think I am planning on breaking my foot or anything else again? Quiet.

After a while he expanded that we might need to add some support fixtures in the future so a bench is a good idea. Now, it is a good idea as I will be able to put the shampoos and shower stuff nicely on this bench, not exactly what he meant. He suggested we put the bench on one side of the shower and could not understand what my issue was. I explained again that I am short with a very small wing span and will not be able to reach the valve from the bench. Apparently after being together 35 years he never noticed that I am a head and a half shorter than him.

We are currently at a stand still about this great bench, it will be another bench mark in our ongoing relationship.