Husbands | Marriage Confessions Husbands | Laugh. Fight. Stay Married.

Tonight I had a meeting at church after work. Somehow, I agreed to be a co-chair for our church’s vacation Bible school program this summer and planning is in full swing already. As the meeting was coming to a close, my blog actually became the topic of discussion. Apparently, some of the women discovered my blog and so we spent a few minutes talking about it, which is really odd for me because I don’t often talk about my blog in my real life. Actually, very few people who know me in person even know that I write. As I was talking about the blog to them, the subject turned to marriage. I mentioned that Chris and I were coming up on seven years of marriage and about half the group of women let out big groans.

“That’s a doozey of a year,” one of them said, and everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

On the way home, I thought about what they had said. I’ve heard of the Seven Year Itch in marriages, but I really thought that was just a saying. But as I thought over the past year of my own marriage, I started to wonder if maybe there was some truth to that dreaded seventh year.

This year of our marriage has been… not perfect. I guess that’s the best way to say it. It hasn’t been rough, really. LAST year when we were unexpectedly pregnant, moving, struggling for money, and dealing with my depression – now THAT was rough. This year has certainly been an improvement over that. But it hasn’t been smooth sailing by any means.

I think our lowest point was around the holidays. Chris and I really struggled through the this past fall. Nothing more than most couples, I imagine (and I hope!), but enough that it was tense. We were trying to save for Christmas and make plans for visiting family through the holidays, and that required some compromise from both of us. Chris was working more weekends and I was back to work again after having the summer off, so both our schedules were different and we were trying to adjust. And on top of those things, there were the normal happenings of a family with two small kids – Gracie was teething, Bean was potty training, and we were trying to make time for our family in the midst of all our other obligations. Like I said, it’s nothing that many of you have been through.

One night over our Christmas break, Chris and I got into one of the biggest fights we’d ever had. There were a lot of reasons for it, but it came down to pent up frustration with each other. We were both angry. We were both tired. And it all came to a head one night in a fight. At the height of our anger, Chris yelled out, “Our marriage just isn’t a priority for me right now! There’s too much stuff going on!”

Well, that shut me up. My first reaction was complete hurt. If I wasn’t a priority to my husband, who would make me a priority? That hurt quickly turned to anger, as my hurt usually does. I became so angry at Chris. How dare he make a decision like that about our marriage without even talking to me? This wasn’t just his marriage to prioritize. It was mine, too. But after a few days of thinking it over, I came to a startling realization: I felt the same way.

The fact is that there is sometimes truth in anger and honesty in frustration and had Chris and I not fought it out that day, I don’t think either of us would have been bold enough to say what we truly felt. That marriage just wasn’t important right now.

Chris and I worked through the issues we were having last fall during our State of the Union talk around New Years. We spent the dinner really talking about our marriage and why it had slipped down the totem pole of our priorities. While we never pinpointed an exact answer, we did come to the complete consensus that we had to make more of an effort to push it back up that totem pole. Without our marriage as the priority in our lives, nothing else works. We don’t parent well when we’re tense with each other. We’re preoccupied at work and so we start to slip there. Our household responsibilities that we normally share – paying bills, cooking dinner, putting the kids to bed – aren’t fun anymore. They become obligations and the weight of their responsibility weighs on us as individuals, instead of as a couple. That kind of pressure is really hard to carry alone. So, we’ve really committed this year to making our marriage a priority again and we’re doing a pretty good job so far. But, occasionally, I still feel that we’re not quite as united as we used to be.

Tonight, as I was driving home, I started thinking about what the women at church had said about the seventh year of marriage and about my own upcoming seventh year of marriage. Why is that year so damn hard???

(Dear Future Beanie and Gracie – please turn away from the computer right now…)

I honestly think it’s because we have kids now.

Am I allowed to say that? I feel like I’m not allowed to say that. But I’m going to say it anyway.

If Chris and I didn’t have kids, I’m sure we would still have issues to work through in our marriage, but having children for the two of us has made things…well…different in our marriage.

In some ways, it has deepened who we are as a couple. I have learned to love Chris is a way that I didn’t love him before our kids were born. I love him more because there is more OF him to love. Bean and Gracie are extensions of mine and Chris’s love. They are our love in the flesh. So, because I love them, I am able to love Chris more deeply than I did before. Having kids has also taught us about true partnership. We’ve learned how to lean on each other and to turn to each other when we don’t have the answers. We depend on each other more now because we have children that depend on us. We’ve grown up together as parents. He is the only person who has been through every single parenting issue with me. Every single decision I’ve made as a parent – the right decisions and the wrong decisions – I’ve made with Chris, and that bonds you like nothing else.

But there are some ways that becoming parents has made being a married couple harder. For one thing, we can’t drop everything we’re doing anymore to fix problems. We have had to learn how to work through issues with babies on our hips and dinner on the stove. When Chris and I were first married and we would have a big fight or disagreement over something, we would pretty much stop what we were doing to fix the situation. We’d plan a dinner out for the two of us to talk about whatever the issue was we were dealing with. And we could do that because we had no kids. We didn’t need to worry about finding a babysitter or if we could afford a sitter that week. We didn’t have to worry about staying out too late because we had to get up at 6am the next day with the kids. We didn’t have to pick up diapers or baby food or a fruit that begins with the letter C for daycare the next day. We just didn’t have those obligations and so it was much easier to stop everything and fix our marriage.

Parenting has also impacted our marriage because it’s not all about us anymore. Like any good parent, Chris and I live for our kids. If you ask Bean who he is, he’ll say, “Mommy’s whole world!” Because he is! Those two kids are the heartbeat of our family. Neither Chris or I could imagine our lives without either of them. They make us better people. They make our world a better place. They make our family complete. But having our world revolve around our two babies means that Chris and I as a couple often take a backseat to our kids or to our family’s well being. What we’ve had to learn over the past two and a half years that we’ve been parents is how to draw the line and when to make our marriage the center of our universe.

Now, for those who are reading this without kids who hope to one day have a family – don’t panic! I don’t think this period of our marriage is going to last forever. In fact, I can already see us getting slowly past it. The thing about your seventh year of marriage is that you have to learn as your family grows. Chris and I are learning this year that sometimes we have to re-prioritize in our family and sometimes that means putting our marriage before our kids. Sometimes that means asking for more from each other without placing blame. That’s been a tough one for me. I’ve had to learn how to say, “I need more from you,” without saying, “I need more from you because what you’re doing is not enough.” It’s not that what we’re doing is not enough. It’s that the stakes are higher now. There’s more going on. We both have to get better – not because what we’re doing is not good enough, but because it just requires more effort now.

The seventh year is upon us and I feel it in my marriage. This year I’ve had to hear some really hard things from Chris and I’ve had to say some really hard things to Chris. But the hard is what makes things better. The hard is what makes us stronger. And so, yes, sometimes you just throw your hands up in the air and yell, “THIS IS JUST NOT A PRIORITY RIGHT NOW!” But that isn’t the end of anything. That’s just the beginning. It’s what I do after the frustration that determines the success of my marriage.

56 comments | posted in Changes, Fights, Husbands, Marriage, Marriage Confessions | tags: Marriage, Relationships, seven year itch

This past weekend we took Bean and Gracie to a birthday party for one of Bean’s classmates. Who knew that a toddler birthday party would be a lesson in the value of marriage? I had a class for my teaching certification all day on Saturday and was supposed to get out at the exact same time that the party was starting. I called Chris as I left the class and asked him to get the kids up from their naps and dressed so that we could quickly get out the door when I got home.

I walked in the front door 20 minutes later to find both the kids still napping. Which meant two things. First, I’d have to be the one to wake them up, which is like a death wish in our house. And second, we were going to be even later to the birthday party. At this point, I was irritable. I had made the effort to hurry home and all Chris had to do was get the kids ready. But there was no time to get mad. Instead, I got the kids up and Chris helped me get them dressed and ready for the party.

Turns out, the party was not only across town, but it was in the very touristy part of town where traffic on a Saturday afternoon was standstill. As we sat there in traffic with the clock ticking slowly away, I became more and more angry at Chris. At this point, we were almost an hour late for the party. It was only a two-hour thing in the first place. We had already missed half the party. Part of me wanted to turn around and go back home, but I had already gone through all the effort of a birthday party. I’d RSVP’d. I’d bought a gift. I’d dug a gift bag out of our gift bag pile in the garage and spent a whole night last week flattening it out so it didn’t look used. I mean, that’s a lot of effort! I couldn’t quit now!

When we walked into Monkey Joe’s, though, all that anger and irritation I had for Chris went right out the window. Because at this particular moment in my parenting career, I needed a wing man.

Monkey Joe’s is a giant, two-story warehouse in a sketchy part of town with tons of inflatable bounce houses and obstacle courses for kids to run frantically around. When we walked in, I literally had to grab Chris’s arm for support. It was INSANE. Kids were running everywhere, parents were running everywhere, birthday parties and large families were gathered in designated corners and party areas. And over it all, loud, banging music played throughout. Even I was overstimulated. Bean Man was terrified.

Because we were so late (cough, cough…Chris…cough, cough), we couldn’t find the party we were with, which meant we couldn’t find any of Bean’s friends. So, we ended up accidentally in the big kid area, where Bean was getting trampled by kids as big as me. He would finally get up the courage to climb up a big slide and then this big group of big kids would come trampling over him and he would panic and start crying. There were signs posted everywhere that adults weren’t permitted on the bounce equipment, but the minute I saw Bean crying and scared, I did the only thing I knew to do.

I handed my shoes to Chris and climbed my big ol’ behind up in that bounce house to save my kid.

As soon as my head appeared up in that bounce house, Bean’s little face glowed and he put his tiny little arms around me and yelled, “MOMMY! YOU’RE HERE!”

I mean, being a super hero is pretty darn awesome.

Unfortunately, Bean happened to love the inflatable slides and so I spent most of the rest of the afternoon climbing up and sliding down with him. I felt ridiculous and I was sweating like a pig, but what else was I supposed to do?

Later, they announced our party group over the intercom and we headed to the party room for pizza and birthday cake. It was at this point in the afternoon that I learned that at toddler birthday parties, often there are surprise “guests,” who are often large, purple monkeys. When these “guests” appear, all toddler party guests will begin crying and screaming and crawling up and over their parents to get away from the giant cartoon “guest.” Bean thought that Monkey Joe was the scariest thing he’d ever seen. The entire time Monkey Joe walked around that birthday party, basically scaring every child there, I was thinking, “For the love of God, Monkey Joe! Go scare someone else’s birthday party! SAVE THE CHILDREN, MONKEY JOE! SAVE THE CHILDREN!”

All in all, it was a big hit. Bean finally found his friends and so we followed them to the three-year-old play area, which was much better suited for wee tots. He spent the afternoon chasing his classmates and calling out to me and Chris 5,000 times, “Watch this, Mommy! Watch this, Daddy!” And in between his rounds down the slide, Chris and I even got to meet some of the other parents and get to know them a bit. It was pretty nice. Although, I was about 10 years younger than any of them and so I’m fairly certain they thought I was a teen mom. I wanted to preface every conversation I had with someone by saying, “I’LL BE 30 THIS YEAR!” or “I OWN MY OWN HOME!”

When it was time to leave the party, Chris was carrying a very tired, very happy Bean and I was carrying a very tired, very hungry Gracie out to the car. We buckled them into their car seats and headed home.

In the years that we’ve been together, I’ve been to a lot of different parties with Chris. High school parties that he used to throw at his house. College parties that I used to drag him to. Engagement parties and wedding showers. Grad school dinner parties and housewarming parties. Baby showers and first birthday parties. I guess after all of that, it shouldn’t really surprise me that when I stand in a crowded, loud warehouse of inflatable slides, birthday cake, and screaming children, that he’s the one standing by my side. After all this time, that really isn’t a big deal, I guess. But riding home that afternoon from the birthday party, I squeezed his hand and said a prayer of thanks for all the different parties that are in our future and for the fact that I’ll be attending them all with him.

17 comments | posted in Flashbacks, Florida, Fun Things, Husbands, Marriage, Marriage Confessions, Out and About, Parenting, Understanding Katie | tags: life, love, Marriage, parenting

Chris’s job isn’t like most other jobs. He is the general and production manager at a regional theater here in Orlando and a large part of his job is overseeing the technical aspects of the plays they produce. Normally, this job can be done in a typical 9-5 work day. When he was in grad school, he was the one who did the actual designing and building of scenery. And that job is time intensive. Lots of working through the night to get a set ready to for actors the following day. As a manager now, though, Chris doesn’t really have to put in those kinds of hours anymore. That’s actually the reason he took the job he has now. With two little kids at home, we were looking for a job where he wasn’t tied to the theater at all hours of the day and night and this position was the perfect fit.

But once a month, Chris has to work technical rehearsals. It’s called “working tech.” At these rehearsals, they aren’t running through the play itself, they are running through the play from the technical aspects. They go through all the lighting and sound cues, all the set movements, all the costume changes, etc. And that takes a LONG, LONG time. As the production manager, Chris is at most of these tech rehearsals, just in case there are problems with anything technical and to make sure everything goes smoothly. On those weekends, he works “ten out of twelves,” which means that out of twelve hours, he is working ten of them. And that goes on for two, three, sometimes four days. It’s a long process, even when things are running smoothly. But for the show they are working right now, things aren’t going so great and so an already long process has become grueling. He didn’t come home last night until 3:00am and then he was back up at the theater by 9:00 this morning.

It’s hard on all of us when he’s working these kinds of hours. I miss having him around, to help with dishes, to help put the kids to bed, to cozy up on the couch with after bedtime. The kids really miss having him around, too. Even though it’s just for a couple days, they only get to see him once or twice a day for half an hour or so. Bean asks about him when he’s gone and Gracie…well…she gets so excited when she finally sees him that it’s like she’s just been sitting there waiting for him to walk in the door.

But out of all of us, it’s Chris who has it the worst during tech. Not only is he working really long hours, but he really misses us, too. He calls and texts me all day, asking what we’re doing. He comes home any time there is a chance, even if it’s just for 20 or 30 minutes. Sometimes, it takes him longer to get home than he has to stay. Basically, he’s just beat.

(Look, they have the same cowlick!)

Chris has one more day of tech left and I think we’re all ready for him to come home. When he’s working like this, I try to make things easy for him at home. I bought some of his favorite snacks at the grocery store today – pretzels, Barq’s Root Beer, Velveeta and chips for cheese dip. I make a lot of plans for me and the kids, so we’re not just sitting around waiting, because when I sit around and wait, I get pissed. Even when I have no reason to get pissed. So, we stay busy. My mom came down and spent all day with us Saturday and then she babysat Saturday night while I went out to a jewelry party with a new friend (post coming soon about my new awesome jewelry and my attempt to make friends…). Then, today we made rainbow rice and went for a two hour walk around our neighborhood. Tomorrow we have a play date. Busy, busy, busy.

Sometimes, marriage is about love and passion. Sometimes its about going through things together, side by side. And sometimes, it’s about being the safe place to come back to after life beats you up for a few days on a theater stage.

29 comments | posted in Around the House, Communication, Family, Husbands, Jobs and Careers, Marriage, Marriage Confessions | tags: Family, life, Marriage

Saturday night, in the middle of the night, I was woken up out of a dead sleep by what I thought was a gunshot. I sat up in bed, listened very intently, and within two minutes, I heard two more shots back to back.

Now, we live in a very safe neighborhood in a very safe part of town. I mean, it’s the suburbs, for crying out loud. Our neighbors drive Volvos and recycle their newspapers. They have Tupperware parties and exchange Christmas coookies.

But I was positive of what I heard. So, I kicked Chris and whispered violently, “Wake up! Go see what that was!” To which he replied sleepily, “You’re being ridiculous.” And then he rolled over and went back to sleep.

BACK TO SLEEP, I TELL YOU!

Clearly, I was the only one who wanted to defend and protect our household (which consisted that night of Chris and I and two dogs because the kids were at my parents). So, I crept down the stairs in the dark to peek out the front door. I was convinced that if I turned on a light, the person or people who had the gun would come to my house. This is how my brain works at 3:00am.

After seeing nothing, I crept back upstairs and went to the window to peek out. As I did, THREE police cars drove by. They didn’t have lights on or anything, but they were booking it down our street, one after the other.

Now, I went back to Chris.

“CHRIS!” I whispered loudly. “Wake up! There’s police in our neighborhood now!”

“No,” he said, from under the covers somewhere. “There’s not.”

Let’s pause in this situation so that I can tell you just how much I HATE IT when Chris just blatantly denies something that I am ABSOLUTELY certain about. It makes me want to flick his ears. How are you going to sit there and tell me I didn’t see what I just saw when YOU ARE SLEEPING UNDER THE COVERS WHILE OUR HOME IS UNDER ATTACK! Gaaahhhh! I’m getting mad all over again just thinking about it. Now I want to flick his ears again!

“YES,” I shouted in a whisper. “THEY JUST DROVE BY!”

“Katie, go to bed,” he snapped. At this point, Chris was getting really pissed off. And I was terrified. I was 100% certain that I knew exactly what had had happened, somewhere in my neighborhood. In my head, someone had shot someone and was now running around our neighborhood, looking for somewhere to hide. And I just KNEW they were going to try to hide in our house. And when they broke in, I would defend our home with honor while my lazy husband slept through the whole thing.

I spent the next hour sitting next to the window, listening for sounds. A few times, I could have sworn I heard voices and intense shouting, but I couldn’t be sure. When I turned around to Chris and whispered, “I THINK SOMEONE’S YELLING!” he responded, “Just close the window, Katie.”

Close the window? As if closing my window is going to make the PEOPLE WITH GUNS just disappear????

I saw the police drive back by one more time and so in my head, I continued the imaginary scenario I had created and I now envisioned that the police had apprehended ONE of the people, but that there might be another creeping around. And so, I stayed up all night long, running to the window to peek out at the slightest noise or car that might pass by.

And through it all, Chris slept soundly.

I woke up this morning, groggy and foggy headed after only an hour of sleep since 3:00am. I searched our neighborhood for any signs of anything strange that might have happened in the night, but couldn’t find anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Not a car out of place or a shrub that had been disturbed. For about three seconds, I thought, “Maybe I did imagine it all?” But when Chris snapped at me this morning, “I’m exhausted because you kept me up all night with imaginary crime scenes…” I adamantly insisted, “I know what I saw and heard and shame on you for not making the effort to PROTECT AND COMFORT YOUR WIFE, YOU JERK!”

Inside though, I’m still not quite sure what I really saw and heard that night… Just don’t tell my husband.