The Good Old Days

And Now We Are Married With Children

I fell in love with my husband on the Canyon Lands stretch of the Colorado River. I remember driving up with a girlfriend to find our flotilla of friends who had already begun the rafting trip that we were joining starting in Moab, UT. We saw the rafts come around the river bend with our friends in costumes and we started to hoot and holler to get their attention. My husband, who was my boyfriend/lover at the time, looked up and saw me. He dropped the oars in the water, threw off his hat, and leapt into the river. He scrambled up the shore through the brambles with no shoes or shirt on.

When he reached me, soaking wet, scratched and bleeding a little, he scooped me up and kissed me with a passion that literally made me weak in the knees. I thought, “Who is this crazy man?” I fell wildly in love with him in the coming weeks, rafting through the desert and sleeping under the stars. We’d been lovers for about 3 months leading up to this trip and I thought it was just a summer fling. I had sworn to not date raft guides anymore. Around day 3 of this rafting trip he asked me if I could imagine him as my husband and the father of my children. Again I thought, “Who is this crazy man?” Then I let the question sink in and I realized that I could imagine this. I was terrified but I fell head over heels anyway.

On this 2-week trip we made love in our tent, on our raft, outside in the mud, under the stars, and in a rocky cave while tripping on mushrooms. It was magical and amazing and we drove all our friends crazy. There were bets going about whether we would be pregnant by the end of this trip. We were in a very echoey canyon, where the sounds of our love-making reverberated throughout the deep rock walls. We were so distracted by falling madly in love that we weren’t our usual helpful-raft-guide selves. We were love drunk.

Flash forward 8 years and now we are married with 2 little boys, a dog, and a mortgage. I’m so sleep-deprived that I often get headaches and a general sense of full body nausea. Sex is the last thing on my mind, although I know that it’s really important for my physical and mental health, as well as the health of our marriage. My husband just got back from his week-long boys trip in the woods, while I held down the fort at home. This meant that I had 5 nights alone with our baby and 4-year-old, so my sleep deprivation is at an all time high right now. I feel sick.

I was so angry at my husband while he was away that when he video-called I told him I had nothing nice to say. He bravely stayed on the phone and said he could say the nice things, but my sleep deprived brain and body couldn’t take anymore and our phone call ended with me screaming, “Fuck you!” and hanging up on him. I’d like to remind you that I lead meditation groups for other mothers. I’m a meditation teacher who yells things like, “Fuck you!” at her husband from time to time. He knew what he was getting into when he married me. I’ve always been a firecracker.

After our phone call my husband was able to shorten his trip and come home a day early. I think he really got that I was suffering and this was too much to ask of me and it was putting our marriage in jeopardy. There’s only so much I can take. So much sleep deprivation. So many poopy diapers. So much bouncing on our exercise ball in the middle of the night to sooth our baby, that my back nearly went out because the body can’t repair itself when it isn’t getting any sleep.

I called my therapist friend to tell her that I hated my husband and was feeling worried and not sure how to be nice to him. She wisely focused on the sleep-deprivation and told me that I was in a physiologic crisis and that I should stop thinking about hating my husband or who was at fault and do whatever I could to get some sleep! So I begged my parents and slept at their house for one night, getting 10 hours of life-saving sleep. Then my husband came home the next day and we hugged and cried and tried to get some sleep together with this dang baby who just won’t sleep. But at least with hubby around, someone else bounces the 20-pound baby on the ball in the dark of night, while I lay waiting for the moment that he needs my milk jugs.

When my husband got on the plane to come back from his trip he texted, “Preparing to jump off the boat, swim to shore, and beat a path through the willows.” This brought tears to my eyes and reminded me, in a visceral way, how much I love my husband. It reminded me of the good old days, of how cute and naive we were. We just wanted to make love. Now we just want to survive this first year with baby number two. A wise friend of mine, who has one kid who is 13 now, told me to wait until both kids are at least 5-years-old before making any decisions about my marriage. He said that until the babies are 5, we should give each other grace and always blame the baby. This made me laugh.

Here’s what I learned while my husband was away: I am much more powerful and wise than I give myself credit for. I am the mother fucking matriarch of my family and that comes with both power and responsibility. It comes with the responsibility of being the one who is good at compassion, empathy, planning, communication, and emotional regulation. It comes with the responsibility of fore-thought and being able to look at a plan like my husband’s- to leave on a boys trip for 10 days while we have a 7-month-old baby who is not sleeping- and say, “That’s a really dumb plan. We made this plan when we were out of our minds and I will not allow you to follow through on this. You can leave for 5 days altogether- which means 4 nights- and that’s it.”

You see, I’m not used to bossing my husband around (am I honey?). We came into this relationship as equals and I’m not used to telling other grownups what they can and can’t do, outside of safety situations. As a raft guide I learned to be bossy and to yell with authority. My husband and I were both raft guides together. When we were first dating, it was easy to feel like we were equals and everything felt fair. You cook dinner, I’ll do dishes. We used to go to the laundromat together once a week, and get our groceries while the clothes were spinning.

Now as parents nothing feels equal or fair in any measurable way. I grew the baby, birthed the baby, and am feeding the baby from my body. My husband makes most of the money currently, although it didn’t used to be this way before babies. There was a time long ago when I made more money as a massage therapist than he did as a ski patroller. Now everything is all mixed up.

As the matriarch I am the one who has the physical authority over everything baby. This is a big role and I know it won’t be like this forever. For now though, it’s my job to boss my husband around within our family home because he doesn’t have boobs or a uterus, and he doesn’t experience the heaviness of sleep deprivation, or the unpredictable hormonal cocktail like I do. This is not his fault. I have to step into my power and give value to this role as the mother. I have to draw a line clearly in the sand and say, “This is what I will and will not do. Just because I am strong as a mother fucker, does not mean you can leave me alone with the babies for 9 nights. This is a totally fucked up plan and I will not stand for it.”

I survived 5 nights alone with the babies and I feel sick for it. I also feel more powerful. This weekend I’m leaving for 2 nights to go stay at some hot springs by myself to catch up on sleep so that my body doesn’t fail. I’m going on a silent solo retreat. I will read when I want to, eat when I want to, sleep all day if I like, and take plenty of hot baths. I didn’t ask my husband if I could do this. I told him that this is what I need to recover from his time away. No more little white gloves! I am mother, hear me roar!

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Please comment below! Tell us about your “good old days.” Tell us about falling in love or what your life was like before kids. What is it like now? Let’s grow this community because parenting is better together!