Marriage Roles
We drove up to Philadelphia last weekend for my brother's wedding. When my brother announced the location and date and all that stuff, Doug and I were instantly fretting over the drive North. We're Southerners that live in a small suburb of a smallish city. Traffic to us is sitting on a 2 lane state highway, sitting through 2 lights. (While, I am technically not a Southerner- as I was born up North- for all intensive purposes, I am a Southerner.)
I tried to talk Doug into flying. I wanted NOTHING to do with driving. I didn't want to deal with traffic, tolls, traffic, the infamous aggressive drivers, and traffic. Doug tried to assure me "it wasn't going to be that big of a deal." Famous last words.
What we didn't take into account was, Friday ALL DAY traffic north of Richmond straight through to Philly on I-95. It took us 2 extra hours to get through that. My sister and brother in law were in the same boat. Later that night, after we had all arrived at the hotel in Philadelphia- safely, she was recounting their experience with I-95 and said, at one point, they stopped at a welcome center, got out of the car and took stock of themselves, their marriage, and decided that despite the horrible, aggravating traffic that is totally foreign to them, they still loved each other, and they were okay.
While the traffic was terrible, Doug and I figured out another "role" in our marriage. Typically Doug is the driver/navigator. I like to drive, but he can't stand the way I drive . . . fast. Before we left on this adventure, I said, "Maybe I should start driving, once we stop for lunch because I'm a more aggressive driver." What surprised me is, Doug let me drive. Frankly . . . that is probably what saved our lives, marriage, and sanity. Not because I'm a great driver. I'm not. I can't tell where I am at on the road. I feel like my car is as wide as a dump truck. Since we were driving a rented sedan . . . I feel like the car was mostly likely not as wide as a dump truck, but it was fairly roomy inside, so it may have been.
What was so great about me driving and Doug navigating is this: I am totally fine speeding. Doug is a great navigator. He navigated us around some of the worst traffic areas (thank God for cell phones, GPS, and Google Maps!!!!!!!!!!) He was able to tell me if I was exiting to the right or left with enough time to move to the appropriate lane. His navigating saved the day. I'm not a good navigator. I am a good speeder. At the times when we actually were moving, he would say, "Kate- the speed limit is 55." I would respond, "Doug- do you see how I am being passed by most everyone, even though I'm driving 70?! No one drives the speed limit on 95. The speed limit is 95."
Yet another reason to try new things, because you find out new things about your marriage. In this case, a positive thing. :-)
I tried to talk Doug into flying. I wanted NOTHING to do with driving. I didn't want to deal with traffic, tolls, traffic, the infamous aggressive drivers, and traffic. Doug tried to assure me "it wasn't going to be that big of a deal." Famous last words.
What we didn't take into account was, Friday ALL DAY traffic north of Richmond straight through to Philly on I-95. It took us 2 extra hours to get through that. My sister and brother in law were in the same boat. Later that night, after we had all arrived at the hotel in Philadelphia- safely, she was recounting their experience with I-95 and said, at one point, they stopped at a welcome center, got out of the car and took stock of themselves, their marriage, and decided that despite the horrible, aggravating traffic that is totally foreign to them, they still loved each other, and they were okay.
While the traffic was terrible, Doug and I figured out another "role" in our marriage. Typically Doug is the driver/navigator. I like to drive, but he can't stand the way I drive . . . fast. Before we left on this adventure, I said, "Maybe I should start driving, once we stop for lunch because I'm a more aggressive driver." What surprised me is, Doug let me drive. Frankly . . . that is probably what saved our lives, marriage, and sanity. Not because I'm a great driver. I'm not. I can't tell where I am at on the road. I feel like my car is as wide as a dump truck. Since we were driving a rented sedan . . . I feel like the car was mostly likely not as wide as a dump truck, but it was fairly roomy inside, so it may have been.
What was so great about me driving and Doug navigating is this: I am totally fine speeding. Doug is a great navigator. He navigated us around some of the worst traffic areas (thank God for cell phones, GPS, and Google Maps!!!!!!!!!!) He was able to tell me if I was exiting to the right or left with enough time to move to the appropriate lane. His navigating saved the day. I'm not a good navigator. I am a good speeder. At the times when we actually were moving, he would say, "Kate- the speed limit is 55." I would respond, "Doug- do you see how I am being passed by most everyone, even though I'm driving 70?! No one drives the speed limit on 95. The speed limit is 95."
Yet another reason to try new things, because you find out new things about your marriage. In this case, a positive thing. :-)
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