<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6602842230360955679</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:49:31.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>married life</title><subtitle type='html'>the first year of marriage</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6602842230360955679/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>JW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07618340484725336208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw6IATK61AY/Sgh_Kky65bI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YRiI3HtiYJs/S220/0103081145a.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6602842230360955679.post-5487405835632660113</id><published>2009-05-11T17:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T14:00:54.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The first year of marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My wife and have been married for one year as of march 27, 2009. like any other first year of marriage, we've had our ups and downs. Unlike most marriages, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; twenty years old and she's 19. we've had our fair share of fights, and out good share of fun times. neither of us went to college, though we both want to. another thing with our marriage, is we also have a six month old daughter named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sophie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Elyse&lt;/span&gt;. so you have to factors to look at our marriage and go,"wow, they are both young, have a kid, and are still married after one year". Amazing i know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are a few things that make our marriage work, and possibly yours to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;in an argument, end it as soon as possible.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;the longer an argument is, the more harsh words, or past wrongs can be pulled out and repeated, which normally makes the situation worse. in my experience, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;arguing&lt;/span&gt; can go on forever, from five min to days. and something is always said that is either &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;irrelevant&lt;/span&gt; to the matter, or just plain harsh. no matter what your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;arguing&lt;/span&gt; about, consider this: one person is right, while the other is partially right. if neither of you are wrong, then how do you end the fight? you can either give up and apologies, stating that you are wrong and the other is right. or take in what the other is saying and incorporate that into your reasoning on your side. this says that yes the other is right, but because of this, your right as well. both apologies, and move on. don't forget about it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt;, but go on with your day without holding a grudge&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. take some time to yourself, get out of each others hairs&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;everyone needs some space. the younger you are, the more important this is. when your dating, its much easier to have space. you can go on a date, drop them off, and go do what ever it is that you want. when you move in together, this is somewhat restricted because you not only sleep together, you do everything together. once your married, you do everything but work together. a guys night out once in a while is not the end of the world. neither is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;woman's&lt;/span&gt; night out. with a child, this complicates it more, due to babysitter, or your significant other watching her/him. &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;best &lt;/span&gt;advice on that, set aside one thing that you can do by yourself, same for your partner, and smooth the scheduling out. makes for less arguments and far more interesting conversation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. trust&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;this is a simple topic, but most people have a hard time with it. either one of you has a very lengthy history, or you might just have few skeletons in your closet. now, you can either ask for step by step account of your partners day. or get a few highlights. whether or not this happens is up to the other. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; push the matter, or it just goes into another argument. when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Sarah&lt;/span&gt; does that with me, i simply say "yes mother" which is what it makes me feel like, way back before the curfew came into effect. this doesn't help the matter, it still happens, but its a work in progress. we live together so much of our lives are wrapped into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;each others&lt;/span&gt;. if your suspicious of something, ask. but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; be a mother or father to your significant other.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. have fun and do stuff to entertain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;yes a dinner and a movie does get old after a while. mix it up with a long drive to no where(be wary of gas prices), a long walk, or go outside and enjoy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;each others&lt;/span&gt; company. card games are a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; here, but remember, in poker you probably are losing your own money. with a daughter, we tend to play with her a lot. bonding time for us is normally then. we go for walks with our daughter, and the occasional drive(works for sleeping babies). take a vacation to somewhere you either never been before, or you both want to visit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so basically, in one year, we have had a few bumps in our road together. we have worked through all of our problems. the main thing is to understand that love is a big part of a relationship. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;hope these ideas can help with any of your problems, they certainly helped me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6602842230360955679-5487405835632660113?l=marriedyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/feeds/5487405835632660113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-year-of-marriage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6602842230360955679/posts/default/5487405835632660113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6602842230360955679/posts/default/5487405835632660113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-year-of-marriage.html' title='The first year of marriage'/><author><name>JW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07618340484725336208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw6IATK61AY/Sgh_Kky65bI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YRiI3HtiYJs/S220/0103081145a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6602842230360955679.post-3755677232326580455</id><published>2009-05-11T14:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T15:31:43.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How i met my wife</title><content type='html'>Hi my name is Jeff &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wickmark&lt;/span&gt; and I have been married for one year. Most people will tell you that the first year of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;marriage&lt;/span&gt; is the hardest, and they are not kidding!! Most of the marriages are not based on a 20 year old and a 19 year old getting married. So, here is a bit of perspective from a twenty year old husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ill tell you a bit about myself first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I graduated from pine valley high in 2007. i was very much into sports and to social life. i would talk with just about anyone, and be-friend anyone as well. in the lower grades i played football, which didn't last due to my real small size(from 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; to 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade i was a whopping hundred pound nerd), and getting hit was not my thing. 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade was where i became your typical bad boy. i lifted weights that whole year( went from one hundred to 140), got into fights, and stayed out beyond &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;curfew&lt;/span&gt; many times. girls tend to look at you more when your a bad boy, then when your a straight A nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade is where i hit the popular bar. i may not have been a prep, but i wasn't a "bad kid" anymore. sure i was a class clown, but i was always &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;on time&lt;/span&gt; and my grades went back up. i also played varsity soccer, i was good at it, but the overall team never won a game. it wasn't the "in" sport. if you wanted to be popular, football or basketball were your sports. i was popular in a way that kept my nose clean, everyone knew me, and some wanted to know me. the preps picked who they talked to. i talked with everyone, so those who were once loners, had attention to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade i signed up for the military. went to basic training that summer and came back the in the best shape i had ever been in. i was 160lbs of muscle. girls talk to you way more when you have an 8pack and can easily do the military press with them. my senior year is where i joined drama club(plays, singing) and also where i met my wife. my school put on a play called S&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;tarmites&lt;/span&gt;(don't ask where the idea came from), a play set in a futuristic world. to make a long story short, my wife showed up the play, and at the end of the play, me and the cast stood outside and said our thanks to the people who came out to see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; standing in full costume, black leather vest, goth pants, and midnight blue hair(fantastic look), when my ex-girlfriend introduces me to her friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Sarah&lt;/span&gt;. the next night i drove my nephew and my brother over to her house to see if i could take her to the movies. her dad says no(duh random boy shows up to take his baby girl away) so we talk for a few and we leave. over the coarse of a week, we went on a few "dates", and on may 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; i asked her if could call us what we already were, a couple. from there we were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;inseparable. She graduated from fredonia hich school with a class of like 170 kids.&lt;/span&gt; i graduated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;high school with a class of 51 kids. then I&lt;/span&gt; went over to hang out with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Sarah&lt;/span&gt; and started our summer together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;October&lt;/span&gt; i left to finish my military job training, which was in SC. i got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; leave for two weeks. her father paid for a plane ticket for me to get home. the day before i was going to get on the plane, my best friend (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;whom&lt;/span&gt; i joined with) gave me a ride home instead. his mom had drove down to pick him up. so at 2am(when we got home, its like a ten hour drive), i opened the door and she jumps on me in tears. we walked into the house and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; where i proposed to her. she said yes and from that day on, the fun began&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6602842230360955679-3755677232326580455?l=marriedyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/feeds/3755677232326580455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-i-met-my-wife.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6602842230360955679/posts/default/3755677232326580455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6602842230360955679/posts/default/3755677232326580455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marriedyear.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-i-met-my-wife.html' title='How i met my wife'/><author><name>JW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07618340484725336208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zw6IATK61AY/Sgh_Kky65bI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YRiI3HtiYJs/S220/0103081145a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
