Cecily had an interesting post about blogging about marriage/relationships. How mommybloggers (I still feel like a fraud when I identify myself as such, or as a mother in general, is that going to go away?) don't typically talk about it. I thought, well I do, but then thought, do I?
I know I've talked about us both working at home and how that goes. But that was one post. I may mention something here and there, but nothing in depth. Dave reads this blog, as do some people in my family, and my in-laws. This is not a private venting place. That said, there isn't much I hold back. I don't say anything here I wouldn't say in person, and that's not much. The only thing I really hold back are people's names and things people may not want about them on the internet, especially if they are identifiable. I do not say where I work, I don't think I've said exactly where Dave works, not that either of that matters I suppose because we both work from home. I give a vague reference to wear we live. I use our real names; I post pictures. We're an open book.
If I do write about Dave or any issues we're having, I run it by him first. He gets to say if it gets posted or not. So far I don't think he's vetoed anything. We tend to stick the idea behind me blogging openly about infertility: We're not the only ones who have gone through this. Someone ought to talk about it.
Some days it DOES feel like we're the only ones in the situation we're in. We both work at home. We have no childcare. That is the way we want it. We spend at least 8-10 hours not only home together, but in the same room. Then we go to sleep and spend another 6 hours (I hope) together. Most of our "free" time is spent together as well. That's a lot of togetherness. A lot. Together. All the time.
But it's made us good at giving each other space too. Right now I'm in the kitchen, he's...somewhere. I hear the TV on, so probably in the living room watching the Olympics. The boys are asleep. He goes out of town usually once a week which I HATE. With a passion. It disrupts our whole routine, it's hard on me, the boys miss him, and it's a $200 train ticket. Every week. Unexpectedly at first. We get reimbursed for it eventually, but, man, that first month was hard. $1000 worth of unexpected expenses we did NOT budget for. I was NOT happy. He's gone all day, leaving early and coming home late. It usually falls on one of my two days off. Anyway, sorry, like I said, hate it a lot.
On my other day off, I usually take the boys and do something. Usually running errands, but we get out of the house. On Sundays I work, and Dave usually takes them somewhere. I get much needed quiet even if I have to work. We're also pretty good about giving each other time with friends although we really don't go out that much. The point is, when we need time alone, we give it to each other. And we've learned to ask for it.
Being together so much also has the effect of being on the same page with household routines. We see what each other does all day. We have roles for who does what usually for child care and most household things. Expectations are pretty clear.
But that's not say it's not without problems. I often feel like I have to tell Dave what needs to be done or it doesn't happen. If it's "his job" like taking out the trash, it's fine, I don't have to remind him. But things like picking up the toys at night, sometimes I do it, sometimes he does it, sometimes with both do it. If I don't do it, he won't do it unless I specifically ask him. And that drives me INSANE. It makes me feel like a manager instead of a partner. I also have to nag him to mow the lawn since that's not a regularly scheduled activity and can vary when it needs to be done. Luckily we have neighbors to clue us in. But I absolutely can not stand nagging. So then I don't. And nothing gets done and I get madder and madder and madder. I've asked him once each weekend for the last three weeks to mow the grass. Still hasn't been done. And it probably won't be done until I figure out the best time for him to do it and then tell him he has to do it right then when that time comes. See? Manager. Hate.
Warning people we know in real life: I'm going to talk about sex. Please don't read it if you don't want to know. Or if I don't want you to know. Ew. Skip to the next paragraph. It's not as big a problem now that I'm not on the pill (must call doctor), but when I was on it, totally killed my sex drive. Last thing on earth I wanted to do. Even so, our levels of desire don't always match up. Some times he wants it more, sometimes I do. Whoever isn't getting it as much as they want ends up with hurt feelings.
Those are really the only two things we argue about. Oh, and I get frustrated when he yells at the kids for touching his stuff but continues to leave his stuff around. It's the same couple of arguments over and over again. And it probably won't ever change. Sometimes we handle it better than others. Sometimes it feels impossible to deal with one. second. longer. But for the most part, there's just nothing really to say about our marriage. It's fine.
I think infertility was much harder on us than parenting. There were more than a few days when I wondered if maybe we shouldn't be having kids together anyway. But circumstances change, and you feel differently. There have only been a few times that I thought we shouldn't be together since the boys were born. And usually that's again a situational thing. We're tired, stressed, and not at our best. Kids start sleeping, behaving, I stop taking birth control pills that make me insane, Dave mows the lawn, and we're fine again.
There's ups and downs, but I think I'll keep him.
