Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Get Out of the Gift-Giving Rut: How to Surprise Your Spouse this Christmas

Photo by mysza83 from Flickr. Used w/permission.
First, let me clear something up: No, there are no kinky suggestions in this post. Sorry to disappoint. Second, be warned: this gets pretty nerdy.

Now, let's get started:

I'm lucky enough to be married to a man who gives terrific gifts. And he has it easy, as we have a mutual agreement not to give each other Christmas or Valentine's gifts, so he really only has to bring the magic to my birthday. (Which he manages to do, year after year.)

Even so, I know I sometimes struggle to figure out what to give Cliff for his birthday (which happens to be today). We're at a point in life where we have what we need, and a lot of what we want. And the stuff we want but don't have ... well, there's often a good reason for that (like it's too expensive or too impractical). Coming up with a "Wow!" gift is a challenge.

I hear other people saying the same things about buying for their spouses. Faced with the daunting task of finding the perfect gift, it's easy to revert to the routine: bottle of perfume, Craftsman tools. My mom put Old Spice in my dad's stocking for a decade, before learning he didn't actually like the smell.

One night last week when I couldn't sleep, I got to thinking about this problem: how do you come up with creative gifts, year after year? Then I realized that some of my favorite gifts from Cliff weren't especially creative: some were practical, even predictable. But I still liked them - and he kept me guessing by having a "Wow!" gift occasionally. Essentially, Cliff has created an unconscious rotational system of gifts. Take a look at this 2x2 and then let me explain what I mean:


If you're not familiar with 2x2's, they're basically an XY matrix (I warned you this would get nerdy), where each quadrant represents a different combination of characteristics. In this case there are two continuums: Fun to Practical and Creative to Predictable. The lower left quadrant shows gifts that are both Predictable and Fun. The upper right is Creative and Practical. You get the point.

The gifts you see on the 2x2 are some of the favorites we've given each other over the years. All good gifts, all perfectly appropriate. My favorite on here is the antique typewriter in the Fun and Creative quadrant: it's the best gift I've ever received. I love it most of all because Cliff knew me enough to give me a gift that fed the writer in me, and found a way to do so creatively. (It's also one of the least expensive items on the matrix: when you're in the Creative & Fun quadrant, the cash value of the gift doesn't matter.)

You can't hit it out of the ballpark like that every year. There's nothing wrong with grabbing something off your spouse's Amazon Wish List: it's sure to make him or her happy, right?

So here's my proposal: put yourself on a rotation through the quadrants. Try to have a "Wow!" gift - Creative and Fun - every few years. Pick up Practical and Predictable items in the years in between. This year's birthday gift for Cliff, which he'll get tonight, is in the Creative and Practical quadrant.

Of course, this doesn't answer the primary question of exactly what to get your spouse. I can't help you there. But I hope it does take some of the pressure off to deliver a "Wow!" gift every year. It's okay to be predictable and pratical: just not always.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Rare...but familiar

Photo by VirtualEm

My wife is a rarity.

She grew up in farm country, a place where "meat and potatoes" accurately describes families' nightly eating habits. And yet, my wife finds meat generally unappetizing (potatoes she can deal with). When we became vegetarians early in our marriage, I was motivated by the unethical treatment of animals on American factory farms, but she was probably equally motivated by her taste buds.

We later abandoned our vegetarianism during our years serving as Peace Corps volunteers in the South Pacific, and I started noticing a trend. My wife could tolerate eating meat...when it didn't seem particularly meat-like. Chunks of chicken breast in pasta? Fine. Fried chicken on a bone? Pass. Bacon in an omelette? Cool. Roasted pig on a spit? Nope. As best I can tell, she's been avoiding any semblance of blood, fat and bone for decades now. Morningstar products were basically invented for this woman.

And this would explain why she prefers basically all meat well done. We recently listened to a fantastic podcast from The Moth where Adam Gopnick described how he and his wife overcame years of arguments about "well done" vs. "rare" ("Rare Romance, Well-Done Marriage" is definitely worth a listen: funny, honest and insightful). We found ourselves nodding throughout, partly because we could remember those moments when our dietary preferences caused conflict.

One such moment occurred just a couple weeks back. We were celebrating a friend's birthday in Milwaukee and went seeking lunch a little bit later than anticipated. Traffic had been awful, brunch had been postponed and everyone found themselves completely famished at 2:30 p.m. We arrived at the pub and ordered just in time: the kitchen was closing in 5 minutes. I ordered biscuits and gravy because I was in a brunchy mood, and Amber ordered a cheeseburger medium well done. All was well with the world. Beer was being drunk, and food was being cooked. But. Then the food arrived.

My bride's burger was apparently not well done. I say "apparently" because I was judging solely based upon her disgusted facial expressions. After all, we were eating in a dimly lit bar, Amber was on the other side of the table, and I don't find pink hamburgers all that unusual. Regardless, my wife stated, "I cannot eat this." Since the kitchen was closed and sending food back was not possible, I only had a few options:

1) I could magnanimously offer to switch meals with my lovely wife.
2) I could cling to the biscuits and gravy (which looked really good, by the way), asking questions like, "Are you sure, hon? I hate for you to not eat. Maybe you could get past it?"
3) I could magnanimously offer to switch meals in between huge bites of my food, allowing me to seem kind without being completely self-sacrificial.

Once everyone else at the table looked my direction, option number two was pretty much out of the question. They would have thought I was a jerk...and they would have known I was a jerky husband that writes a marriage blog. Not a good combination. So I basically had to choose between genuine altruism or a hybrid approach of altruism and self-interest. Naturally, I started taking big bites of biscuits and gravy. In between gulps, I would say things like, "Just a couple bites, and then we can totally switch."

This is not necessarily a moment I'm proud of, mind you. I would love to portray myself as a nice guy who would happily sacrifice for his spouse. But I typically settle for "just sacrificial enough to seem nice to my wife and others." I find the minimum bar, and I exceed it by a hair.

The President of my alma mater had been married over 50 years and often joked that he was still waiting for that moment when he looked for his wife in photographs instead of looking for himself. Well, me too. People are naturally selfish, I suppose. But I still believe that lifelong relationship can gradually change you. Maybe you can find yourself a little more willing to trade meals or cancel your appointments or look out for your partner first. After all, I gave her the biscuits and gravy eventually, right?

Unfortunately, both the cheeseburger and biscuits and gravy were pretty underwhelming. Per usual, I was clinging to something I did not really want or need. My wife may be a rarity, but I'm pretty typical sometimes.

- Cliff (aka The Husband)