There are two pictures hanging in my house. One hangs in my room, my then one-year old daughter, Sienna, expressing pure delight and joy. The other hangs in my living room and it is a photograph taken of "The Steps" in the piazza of Cortona, Italy.
The second photograph is special for a few reasons. One, it was a wedding gift. Two, the photographer and gift-giver is Al Hurley. My history with the Hurley family began the day I was born, they played a huge role in my life, and they are forever friends.
The third reason is the location. The steps of Cortona, Italy, are where I fell in love.
When I was fifteen years old, my beloved Uncle Albert and Aunt Susan invited me to go to Italy with their family for three weeks. Their excuse for inviting me? So I could help watch the kids, of course. The real reason? They wanted to give me the gift of an unforgettable experience.
In July of 1999, Uncle Albert, Aunt Susan, 77 year-old Great-Uncle Henry, 7 year-old Olivia, 3 year-old Albert Joseph, and I embarked on an Italian adventure. As you can imagine, with such a wide variety of ages and people, the trip was far from perfect, but it remains one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life.
You see, we didn't get to Italy, and then spend 2 nights in 12 cities. We arrived in Cortona at the most charming, exquisite, rustic, Tuscan farmhouse you could possibly imagine. We unpacked, we settled in, and we made it our home for the next three weeks.
Our first meal was prepared by a radiant Italian woman. I was tasting flavors and eating dishes I never knew existed before. Nearly every night, we ate beneath a grape-vine entwined trellis on a stone table that had been in that exact spot for who knows how long. It was culture shock of the best variety.
Almost everyday I walked in to the town of Cortona, feeling as independent as I've ever felt. I would sit on the steps in the center of the piazza watching the people of this small town, listening to their unfamiliar chatter, and basking in the wonder of it all.
We would take day trips to places with beautiful names like Monticello, Montepulciano, Parma, and Siena (yes, that's where "Sienna"s name comes from), but always coming back to our Cortona.
As I write this so many images are flooding my mind, but I am struggling to find the words. My simple writing can not do my memories justice.
On one of our last evenings, Uncle Albert and I took the now-familiar path in to town. We sat on the on the steps of the piazza, had a glass of wine (even me), and talked and laughed and watched and learned.
At the end of three weeks, I was devastated to leave. Cortona felt like home. I felt the town had adopted me as one of their own. As the car pulled away from the stone walls, I cried, but I vowed to come back.
I had fallen in love. I fell in love with Italy. I fell in love with Italian food. I fell in love with gelato. I fell in love with Cortona. I fell in love with lavender. I fell in love with piazzas, and I fell in love with those steps...the steps that made me less ignorant, less naive, and more curious, more passionate.
I've been back twice, gratefully, but I hunger for more. Every once in a while, I have this overwhelming desire to just pick up and go...this feeling that I NEED to go...this urge to be there in my special place on the steps of the piazza...this overwhelming rush to slow down and experience life, culture, adventure, life-changing food...to stop and smell the lavender.
Until then...Ciao, Bella.
In January, Matt and I had our first meeting with our architect to start planning and designing our dream home. We are in love with our piece of property, so our hope is that in 2016, we will be able to knock down our current house and rebuild.
Doesn't it sound like fun?
But eight months later we have gone around in circles until we ended back at square one. The problem isn't that we don't know what we want, the problem is that we EACH know EXACTLY what we want...and our visions are worlds apart.
I would be blissfully happy in a craftsman style bungalow complete with tons of charm, character, and quaintness.
Matt, on the other hand, would be on cloud 9 if I would only assent to the ultra-modern, stainless steel bachelor pad that he wants.
What does a marriage of those two visions look like? Beats me. And our poor, sweet, patient architect...I feel like we've sent her on a wild goose chase trying to capture each of our idyllic images for our dream house.
Two days ago, I couldn't even sleep because my mind wouldn't stop turning. I felt discouraged and hopeless. I didn't see how we would ever find a style of house we both could truly love.
And that's the thing, the truth is, I don't want Matt to just say, "Fine, do whatever you want, Dara." I REALLY don't. My greatest desire is that we find a perfect compromise. But I don't want either of us to feel like we are settling. There's a difference.
After being emotional and distraught for two days over this, I finally came to my senses (I'm just sorry it took so long). This is not a problem. Yes, it's a large investment. Yes, it's our forever house. Yes, we should be thoughtful and attentive. But this is not a problem.
Last night it was so clear how blessed I am to have a "problem" like this. Matt and I have the opportunity to plan, design, customize, and hopefully actually build the house of our dreams! How could I have lost sight of that? How could I have let the natural frustrations of this process overwhelm the spirit of humility and gratitude I SHOULD have?
I am excited to move forward and determined to handle the "problems" this project dishes out with grace and gratitude. I will not neglect to remember that it's far better for me to store up treasure in heaven instead of here on earth.
I have become boring. It's sad, terribly sad, but true.
And it's hard to admit, but you guys know my blog is where I work my issues out and lay them out for the world to see!
I discovered this shocking revelation just the other night. I couldn't shake this sense of discontentment, this feeling of being bored, this concept that my days, my weeks, my months are the same. Monotony was boring me to tears.
Naturally, I looked around me for something or someone to blame, but sadly, I realized it was me. I.am.boring.
You might be shaking your head, claiming that I'm being too hard on myself. You might even think I'm tons of fun. But I'm not...just ask my husband. Ouch. That was even harder to admit.
You see, even on our date nights, which we do regularly and I genuinely look forward to, by 9 o'clock my eyes are glazing over as I try to follow what exactly it is he is saying.
After the kids go to bed, I am rarely, if ever, in the mood to discuss the things we need to discuss...easy, little things like what to do for Sienna's birthday. But I am so apparently exhausted, that I refuse to engage him in conversation about trivial matters, let alone deeper or more intimate topics.
Now, I know what you're thinking again. I have a ball of boundless energy in my almost-four year old, Sienna, and two destructive tornadoes in the form of my 21 month old twins, Price and Maddox. Of course I'm exhausted. I am smack dab in the middle of one of the most challenging seasons in parenthood...the toddler stage...and I have three.
And now you're remembering this relatively successful fitness business I run from home, and you are desperately trying to make me feel better about myself, patting me on the back, and saying, "It's okay that you are so drained. Anyone in your position would be."
And maybe you're right. But I don't think my marriage should take the fall. I don't think Matt should receive the short end of the stick at the end of everyday. I don't think this "tough season" is a good enough excuse to justify my boring behavior.
In fairness, it's not just Matt who has been deprived of my former magnetic personality. The thought of leaving my house after 8pm for a girls' night is often the LAST thing I want to do. And scheduling play dates remains elusive due to my boys' nap schedule.
So instead of waiting for the children to grow up and for this season to pass, I am going to create the spark I've been missing. I have decided to be fun again. I am going to loosen the reigns on my schedule and drink some coffee in the evening if I must. I am going to put girls' nights on the calendar and meet Matt for surprise lunch dates.
Doesn't it sound fun? Don't I sound fun?
I'll keep you updated on Operation: Fun Dara. Stay tuned!
