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.

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)

Moral High Ground and the Crunchy/Creamy Debate

Sometimes I think the real question of marriage isn't Who is the right person?, it's, Are you a crunchy person or a creamy person? Yes, I'm talking about peanut butter. Because it's virtually impossible for a creamy person to happily eat a crunchy sandwich. And crunch lovers know a creamy sandwich is lacking.

Maybe your issue is toilet paper. My grandmother's bathroom used to have a newspaper clipping hanging over the toilet paper roll. It said:

He says over / I say under / It's becoming quite an issue / Deciding what's the proper way / To hang the bathroom tissue.

And then there's socks: fold, or roll? Cliff prefers to do both: roll athletic socks, fold dress socks. And shirts: when I fold t-shirts, I put the crease right down the center. Cliff prefers two creases, one on each side, like he works for the Gap.

On a rough day, these silly topics can become marital battlegrounds, and we stake our own territory like it's the moral high ground. Apparently I'm not the only one facing these big issues in life. This clip from Up All Night made me laugh because it reminded me just how ridiculous these sorts of debates are:


Whether it's peanut butter, or socks, or toilet paper, I'm sure you and your spouse have some insignificant difference that you occasionally defend like it's a moral high ground. Laugh about it today - and share your own comic differences here in the comments section.

Choking: Ten Years of Marriage, and I Still Can't Parallel Park with Cliff in the Car

I remember taking driver's ed as a 15 year-old in Warrensburg, Illinois, population 1400. It seemed a little ridiculous that parallel parking was a requirement of the test. When would that ever be needed in Warrensburg?

Fast forward ten years to the Uptown neighborhood of Chicago, where finding a parking spot was roughly equivalent to getting a top deal on Black Friday: not technically impossible, but incredibly unpleasant just the same.

Needless to say, I learned to be proficient at parallel parking. I won't claim to be a pro - I still have to rock back and forth almost every time - but I don't avoid doing it either. Except when Cliff is in the car.

I find it technically impossible to parallel park if Cliff is in the car. You can see an illustration of how it always ends up in the picture above: more than once I've gotten to this point, slammed the car into park, and said, "Why don't you just do it." Then I walk into the house in a huff, as if Cliff had said something derogatory about my abilities, which of course he didn't.

Parallel parking is the only thing I can think of that really causes me to freeze in front of Cliff. But thankfully I'm not the only one. University of Chicago assistant professor of psychology Sian Beilock has the same parallel parking issues in front of her husband. She calls it choking, and has written a book (Choke: What the Secrets of the Brain Reveal About Getting It Right When You Have To). When faced with "performance anxieties," she recommends:

1. Distract yourself
2. Don't slow down
3. Focus on the outcome, not the mechanics
4. Find a key word (a one-word mantra)
5. Focus on the positive
6. Change your grip 

(These tips come from an article in University of Chicago Magazine.)

Items 1, 2 and 6 seem to be spectacularly bad advice for parallel parking, but I plan to try the others the next time I have to park with Cliff in the car.

My theory on the parallel parking issue is that deep down, I don't want Cliff to think I'm unimpressive, about anything. (Funny, since no one knows my complete unimpressiveness more than he does.) We want (and need?) to be seen as competent and capable in front of our partners. The more we fixate on that, the more we choke.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who finds it impossible to do something they're normally completely capable of in front of their spouse. Anyone? Anyone? Share what you choke on, and your theory of why.

Six Ways the Holidays Can Hijack Your Marriage (And How to Avoid Catastrophe)

Photo by AussieGold. Used with permission
from Flickr Creative Commons. 

Christmas, Hanukkah, and the other festivities we celebrate can be beautiful expressions of our faith; terrific excuses to gather family around us; and gentle reminders to give more to others. Or the holidays can be a living hell. It just depends.

No where is this felt more than in your marriage. So to help avoid the worst, here's Six Ways the Holidays Can Hijack Your Marriage.

1. Money: You never have enough of it at the holidays, right? Honey-baked Ham takes some serious coin. As do gifts for the kids' teachers, booze for the office party, and that new Lexus we're apparently supposed to have waiting in the drive on Christmas morning.

Marriage researchers always put money at the top of the "what couples fight about" list. It goes without saying that fighting often intensifies during the holidays. Avoid the fighting by setting a budget today, and sticking to it. Divide the purchasing so that neither of you has to feel like Scrooge. Suggest you draw names for extended family gifts; go in with another parent on teachers' gifts. And skip the Lexus.

2. Time: Like money, there's never enough time during the Christmas season. And while the first few holiday parties can be fun, baking cookies at 2 a.m. for tomorrow's Christmas party usually isn't. Most importantly, the busyness of the season sometimes keeps us from actually enjoying it with the ones we love. So before you book the calendar, block out some time for you and your spouse to watch your favorite Christmas movie alone; or plan a date night to Zoo Lights, without the kids. Fill in the calendar with things that are fun and/or unavoidable, but don't add more than is necessary.

3. Food: We wait all year for the first handful of Puppy Chow, the first sip of Egg Nog. But of course we don't stop at the first bite. Freshmen Fifteen has nothing on the Holiday Love Handles that develop by the time the New Year rolls around.

One of the side benefits of marriage is that your spouse is legally obligated to love you in spite of the love handles. Just the same, there's no sense in giving your partner more to love this Christmas season.

4. In-laws: The one thing I remember my parents fighting about throughout my childhood was how to divide our time at Christmas between both sides of the family. And my two sets of grandparents lived 10 minutes a part. Multiply that by hundreds of miles, or multiple faith traditions, and it's no wonder that figuring out the in-law thing can be a major marital headache.

And it's not just who you spend your time with that can be a marriage hijacker. Does one side of the family give lavish gifts that you can't compete with? Are there family traditions that should have died a decade ago? Brother-in-laws that pick fights about politics? (Side note: The Onion recently ran a headline something along the lines of, Area Man Withholds 75% of Opinions During Thanksgiving Visit to Parents. Yep, I get that.)

When you're tempted to side with your side of the family, remember to have your spouse's back - especially in public. If you're both flexible, you'll figure out the extended family drama with less drama of your own.

5. Division of Labor: On average, 10% of men feel the division of labor at home is unfair; 60% of women feel it is. Ouch! Add in the extra holiday responsibilities of shopping and wrapping and baking and cleaning and decorating ... and it's easy for one spouse to feel over burdened. Men, make a point of taking responsibility for extra tasks (it has the side benefit of almost certainly guaranteeing you a little extra nooky, see link above). Women, let some of the tasks go, be willing to surrender control of the ones you hand over, and take a task or two off his plate too.

6. Dissatisfaction: Finally, the last big factor in marital holiday hijacking is that this season is designed to remind us of what we don't have: a house big enough to hold the extended family, a new car in the drive, jewelry boxes wrapped and waiting under the tree, an iPad hidden in the rafters for a Christmas morning surprise. It's easy, in a season of consumerism, to start counting what you don't have instead of what you do; dissatisfaction can quickly trickle down to your marriage, too.

The antidote to this, of course, is remembering what the season was originally designed to celebrate (and the answer is not Santa). Practicing gratitude together can be a place to start. As is mindfully lighting the Menorah or Advent candles. However you get through the holiday season, commit today to getting through it together, with your spouse.

What hijacks your marriage during the holiday season, and how do you avoid it?

Are you ready for some...parade floats?

Those of you who regularly read this blog know that I (the husband) have a penchant for sports and pop culture. Thus, I also have a penchant for reading Grantland, the sports and pop culture site recently created by ESPN writer Bill Simmons. Earlier this week, Simmons made the following comment during his weekly football picks:

I love carving the turkey because at around 9:30 at night, when my wife is still cleaning up and getting madder and madder that I watched football all day, I have a ready answer for this exchange:

Her (sarcastic): "Thanks for the help!"
Me: "Come on, I carved the turkey!"

...I'd like to thank the guy who invented turkey carving for making me feel useful on my single laziest day.

Simmons has made repeated comments like this one about Thanksgiving and marital stress over the last few weeks, culminating with a comment last week that Thanksgiving football precipitates more divorces than any other holiday or sporting event.

You see, there are now three professional football games on Thanksgiving: the Lions, the Cowboys and a Thursday evening night cap. Prior to this year, the Lions game could simply be ignored, but now even that team has improved (Strongly resisting the urge to taunt Detroit fans here. What can I say? I'm a Chicagoan.). But watching three straight football games on any holiday seems pretty risky, and Simmons comments got me thinking: Is my football-watching annoying my wife? Are other people under the impression that Thanksgiving is NOT about football?! So I took a drastic step. I actually asked my wife how she felt about Thanksgiving football.

For some men, this might seem like opening up Pandora's Box. But here's the thing: I was under the (perhaps mistaken) impression that I am pretty insulated from holiday-related criticism. I mean, I regularly bake desserts. I have been known to hand wash dishes after large family meals. I even voluntarily sleep on the floor when visiting my in-laws. How could a nice guy like me possibly offend anyone by watching football? Right? (Many male readers are currently nodding their heads, I assure you.)

So I asked Amber a simple question: "What is Thanksgiving all about?" This question is akin to asking someone, "What is the true meaning of Christmas?" Thankfully, she did not imitate Linus by dragging a blanket onstage and offering a heartfelt speech about pilgrims, first winters and our proud American heritage. She responded with, "There are four things that should happen on Thanksgiving: eating, spending time with family, watching the parade and watching football."

I was obviously incredulous. There's a parade on Thanksgiving? And someone wants to watch it? Very strange stuff, indeed. Also, football was number four on her list? I mean, my Thanksgiving list would have been food and football. Period. You might think I felt guilty when she mentioned that Thanksgiving should be about spending time with family. You would be wrong. It's presumed that family are sitting near me during the whole "food and football" thing, but they're obviously not the focal point. Let's not get carried away.

At any rate, I risked a second question also: "At what point would you say too much football has been watched on Thanksgiving?" Then I took a deep breath. My wife's answer to this question could significantly affect all future holidays, obviously. I would watch no less football on TV, but I could very well find myself feeling guilty for doing so. Yikes. Amber's response? "Towards the end of the second game, I would probably start getting restless. I'm fine with football being part of the day, but I hate the way it follows familiar gender roles: women in the kitchen cooking and cleaning up while men sit around watching football. Plus, 6 hours of football is a lot." Now, I would never deny that 6 hours of football is a lot. I would, however, argue that 6 hours of football is not enough. And you know how I solve restlessness? I stand up, I take a food break and then I sit down again.

Again, I avoided feeling too guilty about my wife's comments. Remember: I do some cooking, and I do some cleaning. I also play with my kids during football games. So those pesky gender roles that bother Amber are not being completely followed in our household. But that did not change the fundamental tension here. Thanksgiving football may not exactly be pushing our marriage to the brink, but it was capable of causing some tension at least. My perfect Thanksgiving is filled with football. My wife's perfect Thanksgiving involves decidedly less football. So I might not feel guilty about my priorities or behaviors, but my priorities and behaviors clearly affect my wife's holiday experience, nonetheless. That's marriage for you: your actions simply cannot exist in a vacuum any more.

With my wife's perspectives in mind, I made some pretty deliberate efforts today. I ate our Thanksgiving meal and cleaned the kitchen during the Packers-Lions game. I made my pies during the Dolphins-Cowboys game. I even watched a little of the Macy's parade. You know what? These were pretty small sacrifices in the grand scheme of things. My Thanksgiving was still enjoyable, and my wife's Thanksgiving was pretty okay too. Perhaps I should ask my wife for her honest opinion more often.

Perhaps I should also bring a book or magazine for use during the parade. Listening to Matt Lauer gush about floats and lip syncing pop stars is probably not quite as bad as having your fingernails slowly pulled out...but it's way less entertaining than football for sure.

- Cliff (aka The Husband)

Taking the Gratitude Thing One Step Further

After yesterday's post on the discipline of gratitude, a friend sent a link to an article from the New York Times called A Serving of Gratitude May Save the Day.

It's a great article, and I suggest you read it. But knowing you have a turkey to bake and pies to make, let's assume you won't get around to reading the article. Here's a quote that pretty much sums up the research it covers:

"Cultivating an “attitude of gratitude” has been linked to better health, sounder sleep, less anxiety and depression, higher long-term satisfaction with life and kinder behavior toward others, including romantic partners. A new study shows that feeling grateful makes people less likely to turn aggressive when provoked, which helps explain why so many brothers-in-law survive Thanksgiving without serious injury."

In one study, researchers asked participants to write a weekly gratitude journal entry. When compared to the control group, the grateful participants were emotionally and physically healthier. They even worked out more.

The article also mentions an exercise developed by positive psychology expert Martin Seligman: "[write] a 300-word letter to someone who changed your life for the better. Be specific about what the person did and how it affected you. Deliver it in person, preferably without telling the person in advance what the visit is about. When you get there, read the whole thing slowly to your benefactor. 'You will be happier and less depressed one month from now,' Dr. Seligman guarantees in his book Flourish."


If you're like me and have a long car ride ahead of you today (and have you checked out the Chicago traffic reports yet?), then I challenge you to try a modified, road-trip version of Seligman's exercise. Take time to tell every person in your vehicle (kids, spouse, mother-in-law) five things about them for which you are grateful. Think about the character traits, the positive habits, or the skills and talents that make that person special, and that have a positive impact in your life. Research says you'll be headed for a healthier and happier Thanksgiving holiday.