In one week, Rob and I will have been married for seven years. For weeks I’ve been joking about getting the seven year itch. “Uh oh,” I’ll say, “I’m getting itchy!” and he will smile at me indulgently. That smile, that indulgence, is one of the many reasons I love him so much. He is indulgent and patient when it comes to me: my moods, my occasional crying jags, my wine consumption. He brings me Gerber daisies and listens to my stories, he buys me wine and rubs my back. He is a very good husband.
We have been parents for five out of the seven years that we have been married; in fact, our first child was born on our second anniversary (although I do not actually recommend the delivery room as a romantic anniversary destination). When Mark was a baby, and I would get together with my new mom’s group, conversations would always start out about nursing, and diapers, and our lack of sleep, and then they would morph into discussions about our husbands. “He was complaining about being TIRED,” someone would say, and we would all nod our heads in agreement, since moms have the market cornered on tiredness. “He went for a beer after work!” someone else would say and we would commiserate and talk about how we had to make dinner one-handed, with a baby on one hip. We were exhausted, hormone-deranged, overwhelmed with our new motherly responsibilities, and a little resentful that our husbands’ lives had not changed so entirely and absolutely, as ours had. Looking back, I can see that our husbands’ lives did change in just as substantial a way, even though they were still heading out to work in the morning instead of facing a day in the house with a newborn and a mountain of laundry.
Having a baby can put an enormous strain on a relationship, but it is also such a blessing. When I first met Rob, almost thirteen years ago, I would smile when I saw him, so ruggedly handsome in his CAT boots and jeans and fleece vest from Mountain Equipment Co-Op, with his longish hair on his forehead. Now he comes home from work, still ruggedly handsome, but in a suit and with much shorter, greyer hair. And I smile, and marvel at my fortune.
Hey Nicole! Congrats on 7 years! Time flies – I remember it like was yesterday, when we used to sit in cubicles across from each other. I always remember how you broke a nail and the ensuing concern/drama and then Rob saying, ‘but you’re wearing gloves?’
So much has happened since then for all of us!
I love reading your blog, I agree with some previous comments that you have a total knack for writing, pursue it if you feel as passionate about it as yoga!