“9:39 some of us are just more vocal about it”
– Jen, tonight on IM
Last night in a minivan parked in my driveway I told a friend, “My goal right now is to stay married.” Now, I didn’t mean that I’d about had it up to here with the husband. And I don’t have any fears that I’m going to leave, or that he’s going to leave. It’s just that life can be difficult – and has been, since a few months after The Boy was born – and I’m as aware now as ever that marriage could slip through my fingers (true for anyone, whether they want to believe it or not).
Yeah, it sounds pathetic, I know. Seems to me in my circle we’re all supposed to act like our marriages are just fine. But I have a prediction. Right now, see, my kids are 3 1/2 and 1 1/2. Life is difficult due to sleep deprivation, diapers (the first full day I go without getting shit on my hands I will be quite pleased!), nursing hormones, and children that need most of their physical needs met by SOMEONE ELSE (guess who?). I know there’s a time coming up when your youngest is in school and you lift your head up for a whiff of fresh air. That’s when a rash of divorces hit (if I’m to trust my friends who are a bit ahead of the game) – when you look at your partner and think, Who are you? Who am I? What the fuck happened to the dreams I’ve been putting aside?
So, I’m putting my nose to the grindstone now. I tell myself I will be the bitch who sails through this time unsullied. I will be having sex with my husband in the tavern bathroom against the mirror, not some other babydaddy. Dammit! Or, so I hope. So I predict in a self-fufilling prophecy-type of way.
My husband and I have been together for almost 8 years and we are raising two children. Tonight, I am proud of us.
My son is talking now. A lot. If you say anything to him he gives it his best shot to repeat it to you. He loves taking the batteries out of the Playstation controller and whispering, “batteries”. And it’s been so fabulous hearing his word for nursing, which is totally different than Child #1. Of course, half the time I pretend I don’t understand what he’s asking for.