Marriage thoughts

Most summers we miss everyone's weddings because we live too far away to come in to town. This summer, we are lucky enough to be able to attend two weddings-- a very good friend in June and my brother's upcoming wedding. In between, my two older kids have also been able to spend the summer with grandparents, playing outdoors, and doing many things that I felt I couldn't offer them last summer. I miss them, but I won't lie-- it's been nice to have a break. Only having two kids has felt very luxurious at times (how many people can say that?)

This isn't really about my thoughts on marriage in general... I guess it's sort of an explanation of why I come across as kind of jaded about marriage and kids. I know that I do, and although I don't always mean to sound that way I think it sneaks out sometimes. I have beautiful kids and a wonderful husband, but the truth is that just like everyone else there are things I wish were different. As I tried to explain a few weeks back at the previously mentioned wedding while trying to be thoughtful despite having consumed a crazy-for-me three beers or so... sometimes I feel like marriage and children are things that chose me, and not the other way around. And much like anyone who has ever felt that they were called to do something in life and then followed that path, sometimes I feel like rebelling against it just a little (or a lot) and sometimes it is the most utterly satisfying thing I can imagine myself doing.

I think sometimes it's hard for me to be excited for people who are super jazzed about getting married because of their extreme enthusiasm for "the rest of their lives". After five years of marriage, looking back at life since our wedding day has not exactly been the lovely walk down rose-petal lane all little girls imagine it will be. I feel jealous of people who get to do what I would have loved to do-- take trips as a couple before deciding to have kids, settle down in a house without immediately thinking about resale value, becoming part of a community without the knowledge that it's only temporary, have kids in a world where friends and family get to see them grow up in real life and not just pictures.

But I'm not alone on this one. I know very few people that don't look at other couples and wish they had something different. Five years after being married, we all realize that it's not a walk in the park, and we've all got different things to deal with. The people that marry spouses who already have kids, people that find themselves unable to have kids, unexpected moves to faraway places, losing jobs and dealing with financial crises, infidelity, illness, deaths of parents or family members or even children... these are all tests of our relationships with our spouses. Lots of people don't even make it as far as the five-year retrospective, and for some people I've seen, the mess is so huge that walking away is probably the best choice they could make. And when we're choosing caterers and imagining walking down the aisle, these are not things that we're thinking of... but it turns out that rather that the rose petals, that's what "the rest of our lives" really means. The path we're called to, and how we choose to react to it. It's funny, really, because we say it in our vows: "For better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health"... figuring that we're going to be lucky and those things won't happen to us. (I'm not saying that anyone should be gloomily thinking of these things on their wedding day. I will do that for them.)

So how do I react to this, the unexpected reality of "happily ever after", when most days I feel like it's more work than pleasure, like I can never quite recapture the feeling of being 22 and madly in love with a boy I was absolutely positive I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, when I feel like I can't deal with what life is throwing me, when I feel like I'm not 28 but 45, when I feel like I have nothing left to give? I stop, I think about all the things I have that I am thankful for and how petty my "have-nots" are. Because they are, they really are. No one promised me that getting married meant that I would feel like I was 22 and in love forever, and sure enough, that's not what happened. But my husband loves me and treats me exactly the way I should be treated (and if you really know me well and are thinking that should include an occasional dose of reality shoved right in my face, rest assured I get it.) He is a good provider and a wonderful father, a caring husband and committed to doing whatever I tell him to do. Which really, is all I wanted in the first place... it's just that there were a few caveats to getting those things... but in the end, the trade-offs balance out and I have the right life for me.

And that, that, is really what gets me through the hard times. The fact that I chose the right husband for me, presumably he chose the right wife for him, and even though we are not full of honeymoon-y feelings every day we are committed to each other and to our family. There are days when I do not feel like being a wife, or a mother. But the day each of my children was born, I became their mother, irreversibly. And the day that Jacob was born, a commitment between Tom and I formed that would also be pretty hard to get out of (later solidified by actually standing up in fancy clothes and saying, "we're not getting out of this", or something along those lines). So just like the thought of walking out on my children never crosses my mind, neither does the concept that I would not be Tom's wife. I think when you start thinking that there is a way out, you're going to keep thinking about it until it just becomes "the way". And while feeling like there is no way out sometimes leads to a feeling of quiet desperation, like maybe you could just smother your errant husband with the goose-down pillow you received as a wedding gift from your great-aunt... for the most part it's a security. No one is going anywhere, and you have nothing but time to figure out the answer to whatever problem it is you are facing. Nothing but time... years, and years, and years...

So yes, sometimes I come across as a little jaded. Not because I have an unhappy marriage, but because it's been a lot of work to keep it that way. Because I've discovered that being married means that the problems you face last for weeks or months or years, instead of hours or days or weeks. And that being a team means putting up a united front, even if you're not sure you agree with your spouse (do I have to mention how difficult this is for me?) And that relationships with friends and family have to change because your spouse and children have to come first. And that when you promise to love someone forever, it doesn't mean that you will never hurt them again-- but instead it becomes easier to hurt them more than you thought was possible.

But one thing I can say is that I'm glad the learning experience of the first five years is under our belts. It feels like we can only see things getting better, only see more possibilities, appreciate the good days more and forget about the bad days more easily, and sit back and look at our lives and just... enjoy.