8 Years Later

Today, Jeff and I celebrate eight years of wedded bliss. For real. Bliss.

People make so many jokes about marriage and how terrible it is. Typically, the "how many years of wedded bliss" question elicits the initial response of laughter, because though it's been, say, eight years of marriage, only two were bliss-filled. Not for me, people.

Has absolutely every second been perfect? No. Does he annoy me? Sure, sometimes. But, honestly, I'm in one of those marriages (are they as rare as I think they are?) where all of the jokes that people made to us before we got married still don't make sense eight years in. Maybe we're doing it wrong.

Oh, the jokes in the days leading up to the wedding were plentiful alright. "Enjoy these last happy days now, because they'll be a distant memory soon enough." "You still like each other now; don't worry -- that will change." Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Hardy, har-har.

So... are we just doing it wrong?? Because I still like him. Like, a lot. Like, a lot a lot. And, it gets worse: we're still happy. Like really happy.

Years ago a friend of mine was engaged to be married. Three weeks before the wedding, she found out that her fiancé was sleeping with (or had slept with at least once) his ex-girlfriend. I was already married when this bombshell hit and, sensing that she was going to marry him anyway, I tried to counsel her out of it. I told her that marriage isn't just about loving someone; it's kind of like a business. A life business. And the person you marry is your business partner, so you have to trust them with every facet of your life so they don't rip you off and leave you high and dry. I told her that marriage is hard and you can love someone all you want, but it's still going to be hard. Love is just the first prerequisite. It is a partnership that, over the long-term, requires so much more than just love. I absolutely did (and do) believe that a partnership based on trust is paramount, but I was lying when I said it was hard. I only said that because that's what everyone else has told me my whole life. I just assumed, though, that we hadn't been married long enough and that we hadn't faced enough challenges. I figured that, though I knew I chose my life partner well, we hadn't been put through the ringer yet.

Maybe that's still coming, because eight years later, "hard" is not a word I would use to describe my marriage. And, while (thankfully) we haven't had some of those significant stressors that experts say can wear on a marriage (major loss, illness, financial difficulties, etc.), we have made it through some pretty intense life changes together. 

I was reading an article recently that talked about how much kids change and challenge the relationship that a married couple has. It's true: it changes because you have so much less time together alone. The marriage is no longer the focus and, especially in those first few months when you're busy trying to figure out how to "life" and your tired and broken (for mom, especially) body shifts into survival mode, the marriage can be a footnote (though, there is nothing quite like watching the person you love more than anything hold and love the other, tiny, person you love more than anything). But we have two kids, and though (as kids tend to be) they can be a source of stress, that has never felt that it comes at the expense of our marriage. He has started travelling a lot for work, which, with my tendency towards anxiety and my sometimes nagging self-doubt, has been a change I have struggled with some. I miss him terribly when he's gone, but -- in a weird way -- that has actually just been another reminder of how much I love him. There is something romantic about counting the days until he's back and the exchange of sweet (and sometimes not so sweet, if you catch my drift) texts. Missing someone feels nice too. We've also weathered a rough family storm together right before we got married, and that could easily have been something that caused a rift between us. But, in none of those times did I feel like we had to work to cocoon our relationship. If anything, it sort of felt like a safe haven in the midst of chaos.

So, will it get hard later? Maybe. Maybe, when we lose parents; if we lose jobs; if we face bad health news; when we're experiencing trouble with our kids in those oh-so-wonderful teenage years. Maybe, but I just don't know. I don't think so. Maybe we just chose right in marrying each other.

When I had that conversation with that friend (who married him anyway, by the way), she told me that marriage is a gamble anyway, because you can't predict the future, so everyone who gets married knows that divorce is a possibility. I agreed. You can't predict the future. You can't predict someone's behaviour and (as I've only just learned in the last few years, sometimes, you can't predict your own behaviour years into the future -- but that's another blog post), but, as Mark Hoppus, from the band +44 sings, "the past is only the future with the lights on." So, yes, like her, I suppose I did gamble that day when I vowed to give myself to Jeff for forever and cried as he made those same pledges to me, but the gamble wasn't done blindly. The bet I made was calculated. I did my research first and things looked good for a win. I was pretty happy with my odds.  I believed that he had never lied to me; that he was committed; that he loved me; that he would be a pretty good and present father. I knew that he was honest and hard working and sincere, and he's the kind of person I would want to go into business with. I would want to buy a house, share a bank account, make babies with. And, so far at least, I was right.

We came to Saskatoon, the city where we first met, to celebrate our anniversary. One of the things we did today was head to The Broadway Roastery on 8th Street -- the coffee shop Jeff took me to for our first date. It was a good four-hour date and I remember dreading it coming to an end. We decided to follow it up with supper. Still not wanting it to end, we picked up a movie from Blockbuster (say what????!) and went back to his house. I got back to my hotel room at 4:00 a.m. and we shared our first kiss -- the last first kiss I'd ever have again. And then we never looked back. 

So, here we are eight years, one apartment, one house, two cats, a few job changes, a handful of trips, and two beautiful, perfect little boys later -- still in love. Still in like. Feeling as blessed as ever. 

I asked him today over our Broadway coffees what he thinks of eight years of marriage and he said, "I think it's good. We should do it again." I agreed. We decided to revisit this whole marriage thing in eight years and see where we're at, but for now, thank you, Jeff, for choosing me and for loving me, and our boys, exactly right. I love you and here's to the next eight years of wedded bliss. 

Back to Work

Tonight I put my baby boy and his big brother to bed for the first time knowing I have to work tomorrow morning.

I have left the Mayor's Office at the City and tomorrow I start a new position -- Communications Assistant -- at Luther College at the U of R. I am really looking forward to re-entering the land of adulthood for a few days a week and getting life back into something more reliably routine. This position puts me on course to my career path of choice: communications. Also, it is part-time at only 2.5 days per week and, for the month of October, is actually only 1.5 days per week, which will be a nice, gentle way for me to ease myself back into working. I think it is the perfect blend of working outside and inside the home.

I am very excited about this change in my life, but I am struggling emotionally with the reality that this marks the end of one of the most incredibly rewarding, difficult, and love-filled phases of my life. Grayson always goes down before Carter, and reading him his pre-bedtime books was hard. Then I did books with Carter. That was rough too. It brought me back to this time last year when I was just barely off of work. I was roughly 36 weeks pregnant and reading to my Carter every night before bed - knowing that soon, one of these nights would be the last night he would be my only priority in the evening. It was such an exciting time -- waiting for my body to make the move that would forever change our family. Knowing that I had a year off with these little boys to kiss and cuddle them all day. It was harder and more precious to me than I ever could have prepared myself for.

Tonight I read the last book to Carter, again distinctly aware that things are about to change. After the last book, I turned off his light and he said to me, "You stayin' home with me tomorrow, Mom?" I'll tell ya, I just about died.

I just never in a million years thought this would be so hard. The boys are going to my mom's tomorrow, which makes it easier. And - again - this is only part time, which means that I get 2.5 days a week WITH my boys. This makes things much, much easier. But my heart is still breaking at the end of this part of our journey. I have loved it so much more than I can express.

I am so very blessed that the universe saw fit to make me the mom of these beautiful little boys. I certainly don't always feel like the best mom, but I am certain no one can love my little boys better than I can and I hold on to that when I'm feeling down on myself.

While the phrase, "don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened," is on a neon flashing sign in my head, and while I realize that having a whole year off with my kids is a luxury that a lot of women in the world do not have, I am going to allow myself this moment of sadness. Saying goodbye to this time in my life IS emotional and, if my life wasn't so amazing, it wouldn't be. And so, I will make my tea - as usual - and allow myself to shed a few more tears.

I can't say it enough: this time when they are small simply goes too fast. <3

The time. Oh the time. Where the hell has it gone?

This post is going to be a total jumble of thoughts, probably mostly unrelated, but things I wanted to get down nonetheless. I'm going to number them, because who doesn't love a list?!

1. My Grayson James is 11 months old today. I can't believe it. The next month birthday we will celebrate will be his first birthday. That's INSANE. And to celebrate this monthly birthday, he slept through the night last night! Say whaaaaaaaaat?? He went to bed around 7 p.m. and woke up around 11:00 p.m., nursed, and went back to sleep until 6:15 a.m.! It was glorious and my boobs didn't hate it either, which is a relief. My little man is walking along walls, furniture, your legs, etc. and is the fastest crawler around. He LOVES to feed himself, he has two teeth and his current loves are walks, laughing at his big brother, bath time, nursing, and watching dad walk in the door at the end the day. He's super loud - shrieks in a way that will shatter your eardrum when he's happy and tries to out-yell his older brother.  He's a super happy baby who loves to play and hates being made to sit still. I can't imagine our family without him.

2. We have started listening to a children's music CD in the car (thanks, Mother-in-Law!) and I actually have a favourite song. Song 11 on disc one: Down by the Bay. I freaking love it. How #momlife worthy is that?!

3. Today I kneeled down and asked Carter for a hug. He obliged and as I hugged his little body, I told him that I love him. "You love me, Mom?" he said, in that little boy voice of his. "Yes. Very much," I replied. "You going to keep me mom?" I laughed and told him "always." Then we went through all of the people he thought we should keep. Mom, Dad, Grayson, Mother, NanaPe, Nikin, Uncle Joel, Auntie Sarah... and then he got bored of the game. But I know he'd want to keep a couple others (Uncle Curtis and Amma, for sure!). I love that he is at this age where he says these super cute, sometimes hilarious and sometimes strange things. Entertainment and it only cost me my lady parts for a solid six weeks.

4. This is my last week at home with my babies before I head back to work. I am starting a new position as a Communications Assistant for a new employer. The position is part-time, and this was something I was adamant about obtaining when contemplating my return to work. Working full-time leaves so little time with the kids, and I'm unwilling to give up that time. Maybe another blog post about that as a separate topic.

I'm really excited about it because I think Communications is really where I want to be and where my skill set places me, but knowing that this is the last week is a little bittersweet. I feel painfully aware that I am ending a phase of my life and entering into a new one. Never again will I have a maternity leave, and while some days being home on my own with the kids nearly pushes me towards checking myself into a mental institution, I swear, every minute with them, your heart grows a little bigger. So, I'm in a strange place emotionally.

It is now, however, 9:25 and I have a good book and comfy bed waiting for me, so I'm going to cut this short and try to expand on some of these ideas in a later post. This post was really more of a diary-like entry and I just wanted to get some of my thoughts down.

Nighty night!

A.

The Season That Sucks

Parenthood -- like life -- has seasons. Some seasons are good; some seasons are bad; some are neither. The season of parenthood that I am currently chest deep in is the really shitty one. The one where you just want to scream at the top of your lungs, "I quit!" and storm out with a suitcase and no cell phone. The kind where it's a struggle not to lock yourself in the bathroom and bathe in your own tears (this isn't possible, because who the eff has time to BATHE???). There is not enough chocolate in North America for this season, yo. Not nearly enough.

So here's my shit:

Carter has regressed in potty training. He was trained, people. Fully trained. No accidents in public, at the park, during naps, etc. Nothing has changed in our lives that would explain a setback. He is all over the map - yesterday he went to the bathroom, on his on (without me reminding him or asking him to sit on the potty) a number of times and then, out of the blue, he peed his pants outside). Some days he will be accident-free all day and other days have 5 accidents. Rewards seem to make no difference (either immediate or long-term, with stickers, etc.). Today, he went to the babysitter's. I try to take him once in a while to play with the boys there. She has all boys and I know it's good for him to socialize without me hanging around. He was so excited to go this morning. I told him that if he made one accident in his pants, Judy was supposed to call me and he would be coming home. I was barely home for an hour before she called. We will try that tactic again tomorrow, but at the moment, he doesn't seem to be too upset about being home. Combine this with Grayson's sleep issues and his new 5am wake up time, and I spend a large portion of the day screaming the F word in my head.

Grayson is also at that lovely age where he cannot be unsupervised on his own for ANY time at all. He stands up on everything and, subsequently, falls over and will bang his head/face on our hard bamboo floor. Everything goes in his mouth. Everything. So I have ZERO free time when he is awake because I literally have to be right next to him. This is just that season in his life and, though it is exhausting, because you can kiss whatever free time you had beforehand goodbye and your house looks even worse than it did before (who knew this was possible?!), it isn't stressful. It is just a shit ton of work and it sucks, a little, to be honest, but he's a healthy, growing baby, so it's a good kind of pain in the ass (good thing Jeff's not reading this, because he would add some unsolicited commentary there). However, when I have to throw him in his exersaucer to go deal with a 3.5 year old who crapped his pants for the third time in a day, I start to feel my jaw clench in frustration.

It's just a lot right now. A lot of work. A lot of no time off. A lot of no time for my marriage. A lot of "what did we do wrong to cause a potty regression?" "what did we do wrong to end up with an 8 1/2 month old who still sleeps like shit??". I feel tired, frustrated, exhausted, and at the end of my rope a lot lately. Like, a LOT. I know that being tired makes everything seem worse than it is though and that if I were coming at every day with more sleep under my belt, the challenges wouldn't look so Mount Rushmore-ish.

I tell myself two things to pull me back to sanity: First, this is a hard phase that will pass. Carter won't struggle with this forever. We will figure it out. He will figure it out. Grayson won't sleep like ass for forever. Grayson will continue to grow and develop to the point where I can be more than half a foot away from him while he plays. So, this too shall pass. Like the good moments that you try to stretch out, this time will fade away to introduce a different season. A season where I'm not needed so much and feel sad about it. That's for another blog though.

The other thing that I tell myself is that although, yes, some of this sucks and, yes, I'm allowed to vent frustrations about it, there are many parents of sick children - really sick children - or who have lost their children, who would give anything to be in my place. I have normal, healthy kids. Lots of kids deal with potty regressions (especially for #2), and lots of moms I have talked to aren't anywhere close to sleeping through the night either with their babies. None of that makes my "struggle" easier, but it does put it in perspective. Things aren't that bad. Things could be worse.

So there are my ramblings for the day. And now, it's time to put Carter down for a nap. Grayson is sleeping and has been for nearly an hour. This means that he will likely wake up as soon as I put Carter down. The hopeful part of me says, "lay down and sleep and maybe Grayson will give you an hour," and the cynical part of me laughs at that thought. I could also use a shower. See how neither of those options involved sitting on the couch to watch last night's episode of The Bachelorette?? Decisions, decisions.

The good news is that I think I am going to Magic Mike XXL tonight. Take it off, Channing. Take it off.

Today's Truths

1. Grayson is crawling, fo sho. I can't believe it. It feels too early. He's only six months and five days. :-(  (For the record, I would say that he started crawling on Thursday, April 30th; he was six months and two days.)

2. Carter has a spring cold, which Grayson is bound to get. Booooo! This will be Grayson's first virus. I find it nothing short of impressive that, with a three-year old brother, he made it all the way to six months without getting sick. I am an obsessive hand-washer (as are most of the people in my life who "handle" my kids), so I would like to take credit for the fact that we made it six months illness-free. (In reality, part of the credit has to go to the fact that I haven't been taking Carter to the babysitter's regularly. Our sitter is really clean, but when he's there, he's exposed to all the crap that the school kids catch and bring to the house, so sickness is unavoidable.)

3. Bathing, changing (clothes or diaper), or really doing anything with your six month old that requires them to lay still for any more than five consecutive seconds is an exercise in futility. I would like to suggest that it be added as an Olympic event, because when you successfully dress, bathe, or change the diaper of a baby this age (or at least Grayson), you really feel that you deserve some kind of a medal.

4. I am not feeling this parenthood thing today. I want a break. I won't get one, but I want one. This morning involved wiping Carter's nose and helping him blow it properly every three minutes, cleaning up Grayson's spit up a bunch of times, and cleaning up Chomper puke. Oh so fun. I swear, I spend half the day covered in Grayson's spit up, Carter's snot, or my own breastmilk. How freaking sexy is that?! Try to restrain yourselves, people, I'm happily married ;-)

But in all seriousness, I would love a day where I wasn't running to meet someone else's need every minute and where I could clean in peace (I actually like to clean - despite the appearance of my house) and then plop my butt on the couch and dumb down to some terrible tv. Alas, I had sex sans birth control, so that is not to be my fate today. Having said that, Carter is waiting for the tea I promised to make him.

Saturday, April 25th - Three Good Things

Today was kind of a lazy day. After having a busy social week, it was kind of nice to stick near home and do next to nothing.

1. My brother came over for breakfast today. He's working on his Masters in Sociology (I'm sure I've talked on here about how ridiculously smart he is; if I haven't, I gloat a lot about him on Instagram) and as the semester wound up, he hasn't had much time to be social. He finally handed in his last paper on Thursday and is now free as a bird for a bit before he begins digging into research for his thesis. Anyway, because of his newly found freedom (he got 90% the class, by the way - that was his third course and the third 90% he's gotten) he was able to eat and, instead of running back to work on research or writing, he actually got to stay and visit and play with the boys for a couple of hours. It was nice. Made me miss my other brother, though. We need to get him in on these breakfasts!

2. Jeff picked up paint to get working on painting the basement. When we moved in, we renovated a little downstairs to build a new room and as a result, we have an entire wall that is primed for paint. It's been waiting for paint since it was erected... almost five years ago. How ridiculous is that?! It's the summer of getting shit done around the house though, so let the games begin!

3. Jeff did a pot roast in the crock pot for supper and it was so delish. And crock pot meals are awesome, do to their nearly cook and prep-free nature. And it also means no dishes. The lazy woman in me loves this.

Friday, April 24 - Three Good Things

My baby boy continues to sleep well. Only up twice in the night and he even let me sleep in until about 8:10 this morning. That was pretty damned glorious!

1. Sleep. Obviously. I looooooove it and I got some.

2. Lunch with my Nikki and almost all the boys in my world - my two little misters, my dad, and my brothers. I was just missing my handsome husband.

3. Tonight was date night. Jeff and I have decided to go out, just him and me, once every other weekend. It doesn't even have to be anything fancy or romantic, but it has to be kid-free. So my parents came over to babysit our little lads and we went for supper. It was nice to get out and have a conversation where we didn't have to stop what we were saying 30 times and tend to a kid or be interrupted by Carter's incessant "mom" or "dad" and Grayson, who has realized that he can scream really loudly.

My Grandma gets five eggs; 3 boys & 2 girls.

My two little eggs :-)

4. My nest necklaces came today. I ordered one for myself, one for my Mom, and one for my grandma. My Mom and Grandma will get theirs for Mother's Day and I needed one for myself. My Mom knows she's getting one because I wanted to ask her what her preferences were for customizing it, but my Grandma doesn't know it's coming. Because my Mom reads my blog posts, I have not included a picture of hers, but here are photos of mine and my Grandma's. I absolutely love them!