Married With Children

I am learning how to be married with children.

Of the 7 years I have known my husband, we have been been married for 4 1/2 of them. Of those 4 1/2 years, we have had children for 2 1/2 of them. Of course, if you want to count gestational time, we have had children for 3 years and 3 months.

And it's freaking HARD.

We don't hold hands any more, we push strollers. Our kisses are quick ones stolen while one of children pulls on our legs screaming "Kiss too! Kiss too!" Time alone is often interrupted by a toddler crawling into bed with us. We are tired. We are cranky. And, I'll admit it, we are angry.

Angry that we are cranky and tired. Angry that we have very limited time for each other anymore, let alone time for ourselves. Angry that we don't get to sleep. Angry that we have to worry over things like bowel movements, veggie intake, and what a cough at 4 in the morning means.

Because we are angry, we are prone to see the weaknesses in the other and harbor resentment over the things that the other one doesn't do... you know, "The thing that if he just did, my life would be so much easier...." while we conveniently forget about the things we don't do.

So it takes work. It takes a lot of deep breathes, time outs (for the adults, not the children), and a lot discussions via text/email so the likelihood to yell isn't there. It takes date nights once a week (even if we don't leave the house), and taking turns at the more difficult child care tasks. It takes realizing that your partner isn't perfect, that happily ever after is F$%&ing LIE, and focusing on the big picture instead of the day to day garbage.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband.

I loved the man I fell in love with, the single bachelor who didn't have a care in the world.

And I love the man who is a patient father, who gives hugs and kisses freely to his children, and who takes them on walks on the weekend so I can have 20 minutes to myself; the father who refused to cut their umbilical cords but gave them their first kisses.

Lastly, I love my husband who, while he may step over the basket of laundry that needs to be folded, cleans up the litter box while I shudder at the prospect. The man who brings me a flowering plant instead of cut flowers because he knows cut flowers make me sad (they die). The man who rubs my feet at the end of the day when he is just as tired as I am. The man who gets up with our son at 3 in the morning so I can sleep. The man who gives me a hug good morning even if it is 3 in the afternoon. The man who gives me a kiss every day, even when I'm mad at him for stepping over that laundry basket. The man who says "Go out with your friends, I'll watch the kids" without missing a beat. The man who makes me laugh when I want to cry.

I could go on, but I think that list is enough to remind me not to be so difficult the next time he ignores the dishes, laundry, or vacuuming.