This place. Sometimes you get to this place in marriage or a long-term relationship where your partner will ask you the most mundane, insignificant, seemingly least argumentative question imaginable and your response will be a roaring motherfucker what? Do you want spinach or greens is met with the vision of swinging a 20 pound barbell into his head. Envisioning bits of brain between your toes just makes you madder because you just did your toes, but kicking the recently bludgeoned is probably horribly impolite.
It happens. Marriage is hard work. It is funny that we never really talk about the fact that parenting amid marriage, whether you’re newlyweds or have been married 10 years like us (or longer), is markedly hard work. Maintaining a healthy relationship is only one aspect. There’s maintaining sanity when you disagree about what color to paint, why spanking is wrong (or not), toilet seat up or down, or more importantly, toilet paper roll over or under and why it’s so very wrong to do it the incorrect way.
Marriage is funny based on other people’s perception — not funny haha but funny curious. My marriage is not your marriage and my marriage is probably not even what you suspect my marriage is. Just because I don’t complain on Facebook about my husband doesn’t mean he doesn’t sometimes get on my last damn nerve. Just because I am still alive doesn’t mean he doesn’t sometimes want to slip me the pills he got off Man-Man on the corner for $20.
Sometimes we simply no longer fit into the initial box of what we thought marriage would be, what we thought life would be like. That’s when we put on the drawers that don’t have the days of the week or cute little monkeys on them and we act our age.
Yes, it is hard. Yes, it is constantly changing. People change, people evolve. To expect that someone will go into a relationship hating beans then miraculously craving red beans and rice is just wrong (because beans are disgusting.) But also know that the expectation of change is just as idiotic (like beans because yes, they’re idiots too.) Marriage is like pinball. You find yourself pushing and pulling and flicking and twisting. You are coaxing and taunting, wishing and yelling. You bump and knock, turn and smack. Then you want to tilt that bitch until all the marbles fall into the one hole declaring you the winner because you were right all along.
Sometimes I cross the thin, barely there line between snarky and potentially murderous.
Sometimes I dislike the choices that I’ve made but realize that given the chance I’d choose the same things/route/person.
As my father says, maybe someone should invent peppermint shoes for the people who constantly put their feet in their mouths (I typed foots at first because I am oh so very smart.) Marriage is a continuation of the meeting of two people who have no earthly idea how to coexist with that person let alone how to coexist with that person once there are additional people and neighbors and mortgages and groceries and Legos underfoot and when was the last time we saw an adult movie and I’m not talking about porn. Marriage is give and take and give some more, give some more, give some…wait, this rope is awfully short, let up some. Oh, my bad; I got you.
Listen to no one who says marriage doesn’t work, because it can; it does. The thing is, though, you might have to work at it.