Dating, falling in love, and finding your perfect soul mate is difficult. There are millions of movies, books, websites, and matchmakers dedicated to this very topic. Hell, I clicked on the television prior to starting this post and before even beginning to channel surf, surprise, surprise, Sex and the City 2 was telling its tales of love and woe on TBS.
By my mid-late twenties I had been single for over two years. I had met and dated lots of guys and no one had stuck around for more than a month or so. I was discouraged and scared. Was I ever going to meet anyone? I was a horrendous dater; I fell into every trap there was. I was the poster child for what NOT to do; I was intense, needy, and probably even a bit scary at times. I was the girl who seemed amazing on the first date but by the third date made men run for the hills. Dating was just not a sport I excelled at.
It was a Tuesday; I was sitting in my therapists’ office telling her that a friend was going to introduce me to someone new that evening. I was tired, I had just had another guy give me the send-off; I whined that I didn’t want to go and was likely going to cancel. I just needed a break from trying. She pushed me. Just do it, she said — what’s the worst that can happen?
Later that evening I walked into my friend’s apartment and saw this beautiful man in front of me. He reached to shake my hand and just like that it happened – love at first sight. (P.S. He claims it was love at second sight for him, this works just fine for me because it was love nonetheless.) He made it easy to avoid the pitfalls and traps of dating; he made me feel secure, wanted, and loved.
Flash forward seven years later, two kids, a dog, and a house in the burbs and here we are. I am thankful every day that I found him. I am NOT an easy person; in fact I’m a huge fucking pain in the ass. Don’t get me wrong, he has his issues too, we all do, but we love each other both because of them and despite of them. That is what real love is – accepting and embracing each other’s shit.
I have been sick for about a month now. Nothing major, but one thing after another that has made it difficult for me to be on top of the kids in the way I need to be. He too has had a rough few months at work and is dealing with a rotator cuff injury, but despite all of that he has made every effort to give me the time I need to rest. Putting his own needs aside he takes the kids on Saturday and Sunday mornings and lets me sleep in. He lets me take naps later in the day, and, if needed, stay in bed all afternoon while he occupies the kiddies. He is a good man, a wonderful husband, and a spectacular father. If this feels different from my normal posts then so be it; he deserves the praise and public grandeur that I bestow upon him. This is the “thank you” he is worthy of, the thank you he has earned, being both my husband, my partner, and father to my children.
We recently celebrated our fifth anniversary, and a great-grandparent who has been married for over 70 years recently pointed out, we are still just babies at the marriage game. This is true, I don’t know much yet but so far I have learned the following:
Being married means you get to live with your best friend every day, forever!!
Admitting you’re wrong sucks, but saying you’re sorry isn’t so bad. He always seems to understand.
There is always a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on and a person to share a laugh with.
You wouldn’t fight if you didn’t truly love each other. You just wouldn’t care enough to do so.
Making up is splendid.
When you ask him to do stupid things like grab the remote that is seven feet from you but ten feet from him, or go fetch you some late night snack from the fridge upstairs, he stops what he’s doing and does it, no questions asked.
You can be madder at him then anyone ever in your life, yet live with the comfort that that’s okay. Conversely, he might want to kill you, but you know he will get over it eventually.
There is no one you would rather share the joy of child rearing with. You talk about the kids endlessly and it never gets old.
The first thing you ask your husband when he gets home is how his day was. Thirty seconds later you are allowed to bombard him with the parenting problems you encountered that day.
The small amount of time you carve out for yourselves is sometimes spent sleeping.
Listening is really hard and really important, and I really suck at it. So I practice.
Food really is the way to a man’s heart.
Watching him play with the kids and be a good dad is really sexy.
Cliché cliché, but good communication really is the key. Just say what you need to say; it will save a lot of time and heartache.
Accept the flaws. Attempt to embrace them and if you fall into the toilet in the middle of the night because he never puts the toilet seat down, don’t feel bad about waking him up and reminding him that he forgot to do so.
I don’t think there are enough words or sentiments that would truly let my husband know the depth of love that I have for him. As I said before, I am thankful every day that we were brought together, true soul mates meant to be. He gives me more joy, annoyance, happiness, irritation, pleasure, frustration, delight and enchantment then anyone in this world.
Babe, I’ll continue to tolerate your shit if you continue to tolerate mine, deal?