For three years, I politely asked Lindsay to write a blog post. I suggested topics: A CD review. A poem. A humorous, tell-all anecdote about how great being married to me is. But she passed on them all, brushing me off with excuses like "You're more into music right now than I am," "My writing's not polished enough," and "HA HA HA HA!"
I was forced to resort to more subtle methods, utilizing the tools of underhanded coercion and trickery. And guess what? It worked.
One day, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lindsay reading my review copy of Captivating (by John & Stasi Eldredge), and seized the moment.
Me [thoughtfully, as if struck by a new idea]: "Hey... Since you're reading that book, why don't you write a short review when you finish it?"
Lindsay [absorbed in book]: "OK."
Just like that, I had her. Of course, she protested. She tried to back out multiple times, said things like "I can't do it" and "If I try to write that thing, I'll die"--typical evasions, if I've heard 'em once, I've heard 'em a thousand times. Mercilessly I held her to her word.
"This feels like high school," she said. Well, if the shoe fits... But things turned out very well.
This afternoon, I watched her typing up her thoughts with that glassy-eyed look known as the "blogger game face." And when Aidan came running over to let her know that unless he had some chips RIGHT NOW he would DIE IMMEDIATELY, she replied in that distracted, blogger tone of voice that she sometimes accuses me, wrongfully, of using. I felt warm and happy inside, just thinking about the new solidarity this could bring, of the wonderful effects this could have on our marriage. Greater sympathy, better conversations, more friendliness after dark...
I read Aidan multiple books, raced him around the apartment, pacified Asher, watered the Christmas tree, washed some pots, and unloaded the dishwasher (tasks that I do, of course, on a daily basis anyway) so that Lindsay could keep blogging. The keyboard kept quietly clicking and I kept the boys occupied: Keep the collisions and puking unobtrusive. Let the artist keep working.
About a half hour later Lindsay pushed back the computer chair and said she was done. But she kept staring at the screen...then she scooted the chair back up to the monitor... Ha!
Ten minutes later she declared that she was done, really. When I pointed out that she had been kind of absorbed in the blogging process and had not, in fact, shriveled up like a turnip and died, she rolled her eyes, smiled a guilty smile, and suggested that we order pizza for dinner.
Coming up, Lindsay's review of Captivating. Be kind to her, OK? Make very witty, complimentary comments. Praise her skills. She needs this. We need this. I need this.