Forget work decisions and career options.
Forget trying to figure out a household budget.
You know what is hard and sometimes just fucking weird? Marriage.
You can literally want to love someone so hard and smother them to death all in one day. Or one hour. Sometimes you just have to take it all minute by minute.
This past weekend, while away at my Mom’s, I didn’t sleep. The room we were sleeping in, with the tiny bed, was too hot. The baby was sharing a room with us and not sleeping. My Husband was once again snoring. I was coming down with bronchitis. My Husband was zero fucking help. Could he not get up off his ass to play with the baby? Could he not realize she needs lunch? Could he not see that she was ready to start the house on fire or run away with the dog? Why am I the only parenting? Oh my God, did he just fall asleep again? I hear him snoring somewhere within this house. Does he not know I am SICK? I feel like hell!
I snapped at him a few times. Won’t lie.
We drove home. I think he knew I was pissed. I try to not have “talks” in front of my sister or anyone else. So we drove in silence.
We got home and he unloaded the truck, immediately unpacked everyone’s suitcases, mowed the yard, took my truck and thoroughly cleaned it, inside and out. He became super helpful. Took over every baby duty. Entertained her. Kept her from hanging on me as I coughed up a couple of lungs.
Apparently we didn’t need to communicate what happened over our weekend. He knew. I knew. We didn’t need to hash it out. He was now trying to fix it. Because sometimes in marriage, words aren’t needed. Actions do speak louder than words.
And yet we choose one human, out of all the humans, to cough on, snore next to, raise kids with, yell at, love with, and everything in between. Some moments are good, some are shit, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.