I Wish Him Love…

Because it’s Valentine’s Day weekend, I felt this was the most appropriate time to write about this.

I am a part of at least 5 Facebook mom groups, and recently each of them, in some form or another, asked the general question “What do you wish for your kids?”.

The normal, expected things were stated 500 times over: success, happiness, great marriage, beautiful house, health, college education, kids, security, and on. Who wouldn’t want all those things for their children? I want those things for Damian most definitely…

But I want more than that. So very much more than that for him.

In the literally thousands of replies over the few months between the different groups when the question was asked, no one…NO. ONE. said what seemed to be completely obvious to me, what I’ve whispered and wished on him and spoken into existence thousands of times.

“I want you to have someone that loves you as much as I love your daddy.” 

More than anything in the world. I wish my son love.

No… not the artful postures of love, not playful and poetical games of love for the amusement of an evening, but love that… overthrows life. Unbiddable, ungovernable – like a riot in the heart, and nothing to be done, come ruin or rapture. Love – like there has never been in a play. ~ Viola De Lesseps, Shakespeare in Love

When people see Jeremy and I, they assume we are “newly weds” or that we have a “young relationship”…you know, the ones that are still in the obsessive phase where the other person is perfect? He is most definitely not perfect, but neither am I. That’s the beauty of it. We’ve been together nine years come March, and our fifth anniversary was New Year’s Eve. We are very, VERY far from perfect.

Not to put a damper on all the good intentions of the well-wishing moms of the world, but shit happens. Serious, awful, devastating shit happens. People lose jobs, hurricanes destroy homes, college doesn’t guarantee a future, happiness is fickle, there’s a million levels of success, and security is an illusion.

But the love I have for that man? The one I call “husband”? Oh my god.

We were told once “maybe you love each other too much” like it was a bad thing to be willing to go to the ends of the earth and beyond for another person. Then we realized, we have a gift that is rather unfamiliar, unorthodox, and extremely rare. We’ve gone through hell and back, walked through some amazingly awful times together, nearly ended it all because of toxic people in our life, and lost everything. Twice. We cancelled our wedding because his mother said she wouldn’t show, dealt with crazy exes, a shared child from another mother that we hardly see at all, severe health issues and going to school while working, and then some. All that and we’re only in our early thirties.

The point is, regardless of what happens (because life happens) there is one undeniable fact that is as true today as it was nine years ago in March in a basement where I said “I love you” without restraint or hesitation only weeks after meeting my soulmate. I love the man that has CHOSEN me (and he can just as easily choose to walk away) to share his life with me with every fiber of my being, and it’s because I know he loves me in the same “The Notebook/Outlander/Titanic/Casablanca/Shakespearean/Princess Bride” type way that people think is just make believe. But it’s not. We just wouldn’t settle for less.

So yes. The one thing, above all, that I wish for my son is true love.



I’m Jealous of My Son.

I have a beautiful, amazing, smart, strong and super funny child. He takes after his dad. My husband is beyond amazing. He’s supportive, uplifting, playful, and an amazing provider. Even when things have gotten pretty bad in the past (I’m talking bad BAD. Like, homeless and starving bad) I knew he would always be there. We would survive, our marriage would thrive, and he would still be there.

Jeremy and Damian

So why am I jealous of my son? Not because of the amazing person he is, nor the exceptionally amazing man he will become…but because of how his dad interacts with him. It sounds ridiculous, and it is. I should be jealous of the fact that he gets a nap every day, that he gets 12-14 hours of sleep every night, that the entirety of his responsibilities consist of telling mom when he wants milk or food if it’s not meal time, telling mom when he is all done eating, and drinking all the water in his water bottle. Everything else is up to me to help him with or through, or just simply nature.

Let me back track a bit.

I’ve mentioned Love Languages before. They are brilliant. Before my husband and I were married – right before, actually – we went through an awful rough patch and actually called off the wedding. But we stayed together. We went to counseling and learned each other’s Love Language. His is Words of Affirmation and mine is Quality Time and Touch. Basically, when I got angry and exploded he ALWAYS took it personally…whether it was about him or not. He feels most loved when I leave little notes and texts affirming how amazing I think he is. It greatly impacts him when I say something positive, or negative, about him in any way. For me, however, though words matter, I feel most loved when he is spending Quality Time with me and when he snuggles, hugs, holds my hand, or any form of physical affection. You can see where this is going…

My husband and I have always been extremely affectionate with each other. In fact, when we went through that rough patch (we never did have a wedding…we eloped) there were extremely toxic people in our lives that actually told Jeremy: “I think you just love her too much. It’s not normal to be that affectionate.” Wait…WHAT?! Anyway, that is one thing in nine years that has never changed. Except, it has.

It was not unheard of for my husband to come home, hold me for a good solid minute, and talk to me about our days. We would do things together, we would go places just to go, and we had conversations that didn’t always have to do with the house-stuff.

But, as is life, we had a baby and things changed. I entered the Stay At Home Mom realm of once-a-week showers, yoga pants, no makeup, and pizza for dinner (again). It started as “Damian is too young to be left with someone” of why we didn’t go on dates any more, then morphed into “Well, no one else has ever put him down,” and settled into the every-parent reason of “We have no money and I’m too tired.”

I spend all day with this little amazing human, and (though wonderful and something I’m eternally thankful for) I’m exhausted and drained when my husband gets home now. I just want a break. I want to be alone. I want to be able to work. I want to be able to shower. So in passing the parent torch every night at 5 o’clock I stay back and finish dinner or literally just zone out on Facebook.

The last few nights though, it was a bit of a slap in the face for me. We don’t snuggle any more. We rarely hold hands, and when he comes home it’s a very quick peck and maybe an awkward, momentary group hug because the baby is on someone’s hip poking at someone else’s face. We drown ourselves in our phones or computers or tablets, and IF we talk it’s quick and house-stuff. We haven’t been on a date in months, and even then it was a movie…no conversation, no engagement, just sitting in different chairs in front of a reallllllly big TV. We PAID for the same nightly scenario just with a louder, darker TV than the one we watch every night. But to make it worse, every night while I’m trying to decompress just a tad I hear my son giggling hysterically, then silence, then conversations, and then more giggles. My husband is playing with him, then snuggling and watching a show, then reading to him, then playing again.

I had this moment of unbelievable joy at the sight of this normal nightly ritual, while simultaneously trying not to sob. It is NEVER that I want him to be any less of an engaging, fantastic father…I just want my husband too. I want to feel like I matter just as much, or that I’m just as interesting.

How do you get it back? How do you keep the actual intimacy in your marriage? How do you share the intense draining of parenthood…and still have enough to give to your marriage at the end of the day?