Marriage, Parenting, & Conspiracy Theories

When I got married nearly eight years ago, I had many ideas of what marriage might be like. However, I was unclear on the details. I grew up in a single parent home, so my impressions were slightly jaded. I knew that we would be partners in this exciting adventure called life, that we would somehow buy a house and settle down, and that eventually we would procreate. I imagined romantic retreats to the bedroom on our days off, spontaneous bouquets of flowers simply because he thought I was wonderful, idyllic holiday celebrations with a Martha Stewart spread, an adorable home decorated to suit our (obviously!) compatible tastes, and so on (you are getting the nauseating picture by now, I assume?).

Somewhere around month two, reality hit. There are so many things "they" don't tell you when you are approaching marriage. It's the second biggest conspiracy on planet earth (the first being the absence of truth when discussing how child birth really feels). No one warns you of the middle of the night sitz bath you get surprised with when he leaves the seat up, the "wonderful" in-laws who don't understand the concept of calling first, morning-breath kisses and late night noises accompanied by foul smells, or forgotten birthdays and absent-minded "I'm sorry"s. However, lest I give the wrong impression, my husband is wonderful. He does surprise me still (with less regularity, but no less charm) with gifts, helps me around the house, and loves me unconditionally.

By year two, I was getting my groove on. I had passed the point of expectations; I expected nothing and was (frequently) pleasantly surprised with something. We got our home, figured out our respective roles, had a marvelous partnership going, and then WHAM! We had a collision with reality; our couple status changed to that of a family. This brings us to the single largest conspiracy on planet earth. Bear with me as I explain the many ways people mask the truth of what is about to happen to you: "Life is going to be so full now..." or "Your home is going to filled with joy" ... or "You two will make marvelous parents". My two favorites were the biggest whoppers we heard: "It's the most natural thing in the world; once she's here, you'll know just what to do!" and "You won't even remember the pain; you'll just be glad she's here."

Where do I start? First of all, yes life is full now that we are parents. Full of noise, sticky substances, diapers of unknown and undesirable contents, joy, giggles, hugs, smiles, kisses, early morning wake-up calls, and adventures that never cease to surprise me on a daily basis. Marvelous parents? I hope so. I do feel as though some poor schmuck that aspires to be a psychologist is going to make a fortune off of the fodder I am providing my children with to dump in his lamp someday, though. But, hey, kids are resilient, right? God, I pray that's true! We are learning right alongside of them.

On to the biggies. While it's true that immediately following the birth of both children, I knew I needed sleep, I think the "knowing" stopped there. I knew I was supposed to breastfeed, but no one prepared me for what would happen when they screamed with hunger but wouldn't eat. I knew they needed clean diapers, but I never knew such a little body could produce such massive waste. I knew they needed love, and yes, that part was wonderfully easy and rewarding to provide. I stand by my initial assessment, however, that each and every child should come out holding an instruction manual, bearing an off-switch, and carrying a bottle of aspirin. Then, just then, it might be true that parents will survive and know exactly what to do. As for that other whopper, I won't even go into how well I remember the feeling of natural childbirth. No amount of mind-altering substances will ever convince me that pushing a watermelon through the eye of a needle isn't that bad. Worth it? Certainly. But still, that bad!

In the absence of the instruction manual and off-switch (oh, thank the Lord for aspirin!), we have muddled through about five years with no major calamities to speak of, and a small but cherished part of our sanity still remains with us. We have a plethora of memories: moments that make us tear up for their impact on our hearts, instances that still cause us to laugh so hard that snarfing soda out one's nose is not an impossibility, and special details that belong only to the hearts of a parent. Every second has not only been worth it, but has been wonderful!

In spite of the conspiracies, the hours (days!) spent having contractions, and all of the mishaps that have occurred over the last five years ... I would not trade a single moment. In fact, I'd probably be present for more of them! I'd put down the book, walk away from the computer, or skip that night out to be there for some of the things I've missed. Every smile, every tear, every giggle, every second is WONDERFUL! I love being a mom! Being a wife is equally wonderful, and I thank God daily for my husband. All in all, life is full of surprising twists and turns. The most fulfilling, amusing, and daunting of which are marriage and parenting. And conspiracy theories to keep us unwittingly innocent of the truths of both!