Marriage, Me

For Better, For Worse, and All the Mess In-between

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We are coming up on ten years of marriage. Add six years of dating prior to that and I’ve pretty much been doing life with this person forever. I’m cool with that. He’s not too bad. We mostly get along. I even love his dirty socks on the floor. (If you didn’t read that one, here’s your chance!)

No, but seriously he really is my rock. My very best friend. He’s the calm to my chaos. The laughter to my tears. He brings reason and reality to my worries and “what ifs”. We’re mostly complete opposites, yet have the same taste in furniture and wall colors, the important stuff. I love how that works out. We also agree on the actual important stuff too. Our biggest arguments stem from music choices on long road trips. There really is no middle ground there.

Sure, we fight over silly things. We get on each other’s nerves, we disagree on parenting decisions (although that’s rare). Yet, we always come back together and maintain our team.

Afterall, you can’t let your team down. Right?

We come together and agree on everything from how to spend money to which welcome rug goes at the front door. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it takes work. It’s always together.

One situation that always puts our teamwork into action is a sick kid. We could be at any stage of a relationship; giving puppy love eyes, annoyed, full on fight mode, silent treatment, or making up and we still get right to work like a machine. Everything else is put on pause.

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Tonight we were excited to watch our newest Netflix show. We’d binge watched for weeks and it was finally the series finale. I even made popcorn. About 6 minutes into the show we heard a strange noise from the kids’ room. We paused the show. Nothing, so we started it back. Then came screaming. We both jumped up and ran into the room.

We stood there assessing the situation before us. The very messy, smelly situation. A sight that would make anyone turn and run away screaming. There our child sat crying. His whole face and head covered in vomit. All the pillows, sheets, blanket and stuffed animals were wearing the remnants of tonight’s dinner. Why did I have to make spaghetti today?

Why?

Then, we both kicked into action. One running to get bags and paper towels. The other wiping down the frantic vomit covered kid. One ripping soaked sheets off. The other grabbing a bucket. The flow of our movements like we were dancing. Dancing to a song we’d heard before. The movements etched in our minds, not a word spoken. Minus a few reactive heaves.

I guess my point is, be a team. Be a team not just when it’s easy, but also when it’s messy and smelly. Be a team when it’s fun. Be a team when it’s really hard. Be a team when you just want to be alone. If you do all aspects of life together, it makes the hard parts easier and the good parts even better.

We definitely don’t have it all figured out, even after sixteen years, but we’re still working on it.

Together.

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