The Case of the Caprese Sandwich

Yesterday, I (Anna) was making lunch for myself and my husband, Brent. Lately we've been enjoying caprese sandwiches. Tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, and balsamic vinegar layered between two slices of Jewish rye bread. Delicious. We use our panini grill so the cheese sizzles as it oozes out the sides of the sandwich. Yesterday, though, we happened to only have two regular slices of bread and then two heels. As I delicately placed all the ingredients on each sandwich, I decided that I would give Brent the perfect sandwich made with the two regular slices and I would eat the sandwich comprised of the two heels. I got everything to the table, putting the "heel" sandwich at my seat and the other at Brent's. I went to pour myself a glass of milk and returned to my seat. Without looking down at the sandwich, I lifted it to my mouth for a big, juicy bite. "Wait a second," I said, "I was supposed to have the sandwich with the heels!" At the last minute, my very observant husband noticed I had the "heel" sandwich and switched with me. Neither of us wanted the other to have to eat the less desired sandwich!

This tiny but meaningful gesture changed my whole day. It also reminded me that people who keep their partner first on their minds and in their actions are so very satisfied. After that meal, I was nourished and nurtured. A very healthy combination. As Sandra Broyard says, "In the marriage that endures, there is no need for grandiosity." We couldn't agree more heartily.

Tweet, Tweet

Calling all twitterers. We're officially tweeting. Twitterverse, watch out! Our twitter name is "happycouples." Follow us for frequent updates on all things Carol and Anna.

The Fred Chronicles

Carol is away. And guess who is privileged enough to take care of her itty-bitty, cuddly-wuddly Yorkie, Fred? Me! And my dear hubby, too. We've been having such a blast with this fur-ball! On Friday we took him to a cookout where he saw his long-lost friend, Boulder. Everyone raved about how cute Fred was, "he's so endearing!" and "I don't even like small dogs, but this little guy is so fun and adorable!"

On Saturday, we took him to another cookout with Brent's family.




He hung out with Brent's twin cousins, Brooke and Bridget.



And became the surrogate pet of the band, TelluRide. Brent's uncle, Jeff Catton, is their manager and they are in Minnesota playing some tunes. They're extremely nice guys who played baseball in the park with the cousins and roasted marshmallows outside with us. Check out the band: http://www.myspace.com/tellurideband

Band member, Jimmy, became a huge Fred fan. He carried him around for most the night and threatened to trade Fred for his dog at home!


Don't worry, Carol, we brought him home in one piece. He was quite tuckered out, though. Be warned. You might have to pry him away from Brent's chest!

We Love the Rain

I (Anna) spent an extended Father's day weekend in NYC visiting my brother Mike and his wife Jill. New York has seen lots of rain this past month, some of which we were able to enjoy over the weekend. As astute readers may have noticed, Carol and I fittingly dedicated our second book, What Happy Parents Do, to our own parents. On the dedication page, I thanked my parents for teaching me to love the rain.

The little phrase, "we love the rain," holds significance to me and my family on many levels. We do, quite literally, love the rain. When it storms we often step out on my parents' huge front porch to take in the the beauty of lightning and sheets of rain. This love, however, is something we have learned through experiences. One in particular.

When I was a child we took a trip to Boston and went to a baseball game. It rained "cats and dogs." So, we ended up purchasing large, blue plastic ponchos to keep dry. Rather than allowing the rain to ruin one of our favorite "American pastimes" we created a song while stomping in the puddles: "We love the rain!" (sung in a clever/unique tune, sung over and over again). As newer family members join and hear this story, they ask: "Where are all the lyrics?" My sister-in-law, Jill, and 3 year old nephew, Jacob, have attempted some very fine lyrics; we're hoping to add them to our legendary song. Soon.

On another level, we believe "loving the rain" is the equivalent to embracing life for all it offers. The good. Bad. Sad. Fun. Ugly. Tragic. Beautiful. Wet!

We love the rain, indeed.

Happy belated father's day.

Synergy

It's something I (Anna) depend upon for survival. Especially while I'm working. It's 1,000% more effective than caffeine, I'll tell you that much. There's just something about the energy derived from people focused on similar goals. Synergy is one of the many reasons I adore my friends from the University of Kentucky and the experiences we shared together. And I can't help but find myself yearning for my fellow "synergists" from Kentucky. We'd find our spot in the library (one of my favorite places on earth) and work, work, work. And somehow we'd laugh, laugh, laugh our way to productivity. Check out my darling friends, Rachel and Shades, discussing a paper idea in William T. Young library.




And me. And Kelley. And my unpictured but not forgotten UK besties.




These days I'm craving synergy like I usually crave chocolate. Thank goodness for Carol! The energy she feeds me is priceless and unstoppable. I'm also reminding myself that marriages are also a perfect place to ignite some synergy. As John Gottman has found in his brilliant research on healthy and happy marriage, positivity begets more positivity. That's synergy, folks! And I'm on my way to finding more as I continue my transition back to Minneapolis.

Happy Wife, Happy Life

That's a direct quote from my buddy Tim, uttered earlier tonight. My utterly honest response? "You are one smart man, my friend."

But what I was really thinking (yes, Tim, you are an incredibly brilliant guy. But I was reflecting more broadly ...) about how happy couples seem to be those in which each person is making sure the other person is happy. First. And finally. And often. And sincerely. In big ways and mundane ways. And not all the time, but as a matter of principle. "Happy you, happy me." Doesn't that just seem right?

Lest we forget how building up another comes immediately back to us (and usually many fold), keep this in mind: it is only through interaction that we come to know and create ourselves. Our most basic sense of worth (dare we say happiness) is, as human beings, only as great as the happiness of those significant others around us. It's all one big fat exchange (of emotions, notions, and actions).

Kind of fun to consider how this works in our daily lives, eh? Like when it's time to empty the dishwasher. Or celebrate a birthday. Or adopt a dog named Ellie from the Minneapolis Humane Society.

Ellie! She was the inspiration for Tim's "happy life" comment this evening. Because my BFF Molly and her two kiddos found the most perfect little pooch for their perfect little lives today at the Humane Society. She had a powerful "take me home right now I'm so adorable and well-trained and have the biggest blackest nose and the sweetest pinkest tongue that will greet you with kisses every single day of your amazing life please take me home with you, please, please, please, I'm very perfect" quality.

Tim, we know you have said "no dog." But just one more word and I'll shut up: "In a deep and profound way, if Ellie will really make Molly happy, you know you will be happier too. And, as a bonus, all of that happiness will stir up an awesome centrifugal force of happy people in your life. And as an engineer, you know how cool centrifugal forces are: they get energy from themselves! Self-sustaining. What a beautiful thing (especially when it's about good feelings and happy couples ... and the most adorable non-shedding, already-trained, perfectly sized, rescue dog ever)."

For the rest of us, all of this raises a central/ifugal question: What have I done to make life for my partner a little happier today?

Shower Season

My friend, Tara, sent me the following email:

Hi Anna.

I was just looking at my friend's baby shower pics on Facebook and look what I spotted as a gift?!?! :)



Yes, that's right. It's our own baby What Happy Parents Do being joyfully gifted to the mom-to-be. I can't help but wonder which story it is they're laughing about. I suspect "Naked Dinners."

Thanks and congratulations to Karin Kish, the guest of honor!

Check it out ... !

http://www.tulumba.com/storeItem.asp?ic=zBK338086FI076

No Sign

My eldest turned 13 today! I'm officially the happily married mother of a teenager.

Oh my.

As the day approached, he had one simple request: "Please, mom. No front door sign."

Ah, teenagers. I LOVE em. Especially mine.

So, I decided to honor the request and recognize it for what it is: an opportunity! When one ritual ends, another can take its place.

To respect the increasing embarrassment ("my mom is sooooo annoying!") of my teenager, I began a new birthday-week-ritual this morning: a breakfast table display of his baby books coupled with all sorts of silly (embarrassing? absolutely!) little stories of when he was just a wee-one.

I think he kind of liked it; those eye-rolls are a teenager's way of saying "Thanks, mom. I love you too."

Right?

Explode. Erupt. Enjoy.

It's spring on campus! And in my yard.

Tulips explode. Rhodedendrums erupt. Lilacs emit the aromas of ... well ... lilacs, of course. Buds burst all around and make my eyes water with joy. And allergens.

It's also a delightful time of year because classes have ended. Next week we give final exams (insert big sigh of relief). Because although I (Carol) absolutely love what I do, I also love the seasons of academia:

Start afresh.
Learn.
Lecture.
Discuss.
Read a lot.
Learn more.
Discuss further.
Take a test or two.
Challenge yourself.
Persevere.
Finish.
Summer.

And then next year, do it all again.

As I wrap another year and head into summer, I've been thinking about the fall already (starting anew) while being unusually appreciative of the baby-tenderness and freshness of this spring.

One of those fresh moments came from a lesson poignantly learned by a couple (literally) of experts guest speaking in one of my courses. You can read all about it in a blog to which I contribute at the University of St. Thomas. The entry was inspired by spring in my (rock) garden. Take a peek: http://blog.stthomas.edu/thescroll/archives/carol_bruess/

Stanford University = Happy Authors

As my (Carol's) husband is walking out of his office this evening, hurriedly heading home for a feast of grilled walnut burgers on a bed baby greens, he is brought to a momentary halt by a College of St. Catherine student who yells "Dr. Bruess! I have a great story for you!"

Kelsey, a junior at St. Kate's, is a bright and friendly student who I also just happen to know because she works part time at the Grand Avenue J Crew retailer where I just happen to frequent. She excitedly details her trip the week before to visit friends in California where she, of course, wanted to check out Stanford University. And where she reportedly shrieked as she saw on an eye-level and prominent display, right as you walk in the door of the Stanford bookstore, a faced-out stack of What Happy Couples Do.

"I know that woman who wrote that book! I sell her clothes!"

How cool is that? We've arrived at Stanford University's bookstore!

It's true: being on the new release table at B&N was dreamy. Being in Target and Oprah's green room remains our creme de la creme dream. But we silly academic find the bookstore of a fine institution like Stanford a very comfortable and exciting place to find our little work of love.

Happy couples at Stanford and beyond: enjoy.

And Kelsey: thanks for the shriek out!

Birthday Week Ritual Lives On

Last week was Birthday week again at the Bruess house. Gracie turned nine. The ritual of celebrating in grand style - for seven "wonderful" days - took us from a red velvet cupcake mountain on day one to our special bistro dinner with BFFs at the Mall of America's American Girl Store ("Mom, this is the greatest day ever"). Instead of telling you all about it, I thought I'd show and tell select events of our week:


Day one:Red velvet cupcake tower kick off birthday-week. Yum.

Day two - six: I'll spare you the photos of the front door sign, the bouncy balls, the gifts hidden around the house, the second batch of cupcakes, the 4-layer homemade german chocolate cake, the candles, the songs, the cards, the cash (grandmas and aunts know all about birthday week too), the breakfasts in bed ... and ... sob, sob ... the tears when the birthday girl finds out that her brother made it to swim finals but she did not. Oops. Not-so-happy-birthday moment. Oh well. You can't have it all, even during birthday week.

Fast forward to day seven: We head to "The Bistro" per the request of the birthday-week queen.



The dolls pull up to the table and order lemonade. On ice, please.


BFFs oooh and aaah over the mini-fred puppy given as a gift. Gracie names him Tiger. Fred attacks Tiger the minute we get home. Woof. Woof.


Gracie acts like she doesn't want us to sing to her in a restaurant. She is loving every second of it.


BFF's request a trip to Mexico to close out birthday week. We take them to Sears and have them try on beach wear instead. Smart.

Birthday week ends with very crabby daughter (too much fun, too little sleep?!) and a very happy mom (it's officially over now, right?)

I strongly encourage you consider initiating birthday week at your house! ... If you are strong. Tolerant. Dotting. Patient. Can bake. And decorate. And wrap boxes in 10 seconds or less. Can make big signs (for the doors and entrances). And, most importantly, can take a week off (after birthday week, to catch up on sleep and scratch the tape off the ceilings and doors). What fun it is to be nine and enjoying the beauty of ritual!