It’s late nights, and early mornings. It’s screaming at each other at 2 am because the baby won’t sleep. It’s arguing over making a separate meal for the toddler. It’s tired. It’s stressed out. It’s maxed out. It’s depleted. It’s little patience.
It’s giving everything we have to everyone except each other, and ourselves. It’s I barely touch you. It’s we barely talk. It’s really busy, but really lonely sometimes. It’s conversations on date night about our kids, and our work, and wondering what we even talked about before all those things came along.
It’s temper tantrums at dinner, giggles at bath time. It’s one last story, one last hug, one last kiss. It’s time to go to bed, and PLEASE sleep all night.
It’s trying to chase the dream before we think we are too old. It’s grounding our wings and digging some roots. It’s a mortgage, and daycare, and park on Saturday, and Lowe’s on Sunday. It’s surviving the day and planning for the future. Wondering if we are ever going to get there. . . wherever “there” is.
It’s praying we don’t lose each other along the way.
It’s me changing in the morning, watching you from the corner of my eye and seeing your smile as the kids climb over you. It’s your body leaning into mine after you get home from work– it’s been one of those days. It’s last night, at 10pm, my hair is a mess, a make-up smudged face, and huge glasses hanging from my nose– and it’s you, looking at me swearing I get more beautiful with the years.
This season. Last season. Next season.
It’s just figuring it out. Making mistakes along the way. Falling in and out of love with each other. It’s good years, and bad. It’s wrecked plans and unexpected surprises. It’s messy. It’s beautiful. It’s lost and found. It’s growing and changing. It’s losing each other and finding each other along the way.
*This article originally appeared at The Letters to My Children.*
Photo Credit: Erin Dunaway Photography