Speaking Out Against Family

I've been thinking a lot about this subject as my friends and I walk through the process of leaving and cleaving. While it's a spiritually loaded sentiment from the Bible, it's a concept that I think everyone deals with to some degree or another. When you join your life with your partner's life, you become a baby family in your own right. So where does that leave your respective families? Especially if there is friction?

Questions such as these are at the front of my mind:
When is it appropriate to speak out against family? For racism? For homophobic remarks?
When do you cut family out of your life?
What are healthy boundary lines?
Should spouses have to choose between you and parents?

We've all probably heard stories or have our own examples of the racist father(-in-law) spouting jokes over turkey. Or the sister(-in-law)'s biting remarks. Whatever the issue is, it can cause a real wedge in the family. I wonder where the line is between peacekeeping and standing up for what is right. When I married into my husband's family, his grandmother told me: "It's your job to help keep this family together. You have the power to keep it together or break it up." While I agree with her that family should be kept sacred and honored, I only agree to a point. There are circumstances where I would feel warranted in making a break.

I tend to have a very black and white view. If I think you're wrong, I'll let you know know and what's more, I'll tell you what I think is right. As I understand this tendency more, I've been trying to employ more diplomatic means. The idea of speaking the truth in love applies here I think. If you can speak the truth, but do so in a loving way and then the other party still wants to part ways, then perhaps you've done all you can do. As a matter of conscience, I don't know that there are other options.

I probably have more questions than answers regarding these situations (which vary widely from one family to another). However, I don't think we talk about these situations outside of common jokes about the in-laws or putting the fun in dysfunctional. I want to know what wisdom you have to impart. I want to know what you've been trying and what's been working.

Have you had to cut off family? Set a firm boundary? Or maybe just speak out against an injustice within family? How has being married affected your decisions to do this?

Why I Love Weddings, Remembered

Mr. Palindrome and I attended our first wedding as a married couple the other week.  We had been looking forward to its as we had grown with our friends from college dating, through Navy long distance relationships, and into engagement land. 

Not only were we able to rejoice with them as they joined us on the married side of life, but I found my wedding joy again.  I wasn't sure if weddings would ever be the same to me as when I was a wishful singleton dreamer.  Planning our own wedding exposed me to the stressful, head ache inducing side of things and though I'll never forget the experience, I'm so glad that I can enjoy weddings again since they're not my own!

I held my husband's hand while they repeated their vows, and I rubbed his wedding ring.  I appreciated the natural beauty of the outdoor ceremony space, the fragrance of the flowers, the taste of the wine, and the laughter at the toasts.  I ate Pennsylvania and Ohio shaped cookies from the cookie buffet (representing the bride and groom's home states).  All simple joys. 

Sure, I noticed the little touches that the bride worked so hard on (like the calligraphy place cards), but what I really remember was the feeling of love.  We felt so comfortable with their welcoming families.  We chatted, laughed, and toasted with our table mates.  We danced cheek to cheek to Oldies.  That's why I love weddings - the experience of the fullness of love that radiates from the beginning of a marriage.

Have you lost that loving feeling towards weddings?  Were you able to get it back?

Toasty Tootsies

Mr. Palindrome never quite remembers our family name for toes.  Totsies, footsies, toesies . . . no, no Mr. Palindrome, TOOTSIES! 

Anytoes, my tootsies have been keeping toasty recently thanks to my very thoughtful Palindromaid of Honor.  E sent me home from the wedding with a relaxation kit full of bath goodies, an eye mask and these darling slippers.

I'm not sure how she pulled it off, but she found slippers that commemorated my Weddingbee moniker!  Look closely at the tag: Lambie!

I died from the cuteness, especially the sweet eyelashes, the serene smile, and the pink bow!

I wear them pretty much every day, all day, as I started working from home when I moved to Durham.  Not only are they functional, but they remind to blog and they remind me of my great friendship with E.  She held my hand when I was freaked out about being late for formal photos.  She held my dress up when I had to go to the bathroom.  If that's not friendship, I don't know what is.  Thanks my dear!

Being Mrs. Palindrome

I think that before the wedding day, I thought that I would magically feel married once we said our vows.  I felt that maybe I was just suited to be a Mrs. and it would be lovely, natural transition.  A week later, I still feel remarkably like myself.  I'm wearing an extra ring, I look at the pictures, and I know that I am married.  Despite this, I'm still just me. 

I asked Mr. Palindrome how long he thought it would take us to get used to living together.  In my head, I was estimating about 6 months.  "On the order of years," he replied.  I think he's right.  To feel married, to feel as one, to have it all sink in and experience the implications of joining two lives - yes, I think that will take more than half a year.

I've ridden dozens of emotions through the process of getting married.  Sadness to leave my home, happiness to see dear friends, calmness to say my vows, peacefulness to wake the next morning beside my husband, weirdness to realize I have a new life.  I'm letting it all wash over me.

Though I've set a pensive mood for this post, it really hasn't been a week full of philosophizing , chewing pencil ends, and staring out the window.  I saved those moments for the several car trips and the hours of unpacking.  The rest of the time, I've been filled with warmth through reminiscing about the many sweet times of the wedding weekend.  To give you a taste, I want to show you what is probably my favorite moment of the evening, the moment I knew that my new name came with a very special privelege:

Mr. Palindrome looks like a kid on Christmas morning (errr during Hanukkah), his hands clasped and eyes lit up.  I'm oscillating between sheer joy and sheer terror as I laugh until my stomach hurts and my knuckles go white from grasping the chair.  Oh yes, I may philosophize and I may still feel like me, but gosh, I love being a 'stein!