I survived the 7 year Itch

Its kinda hard for me to write this post.

No, I mean literally. There is a one year old crying in the background. Two boys playing wii in the guest room and my oldest is watching cartoons in my room. Every 5 minutes or so one them has a meltdown, infinite crisis style, and I have to run in to save the day.

Plus, this is what my living room looks like at this very moment.

Glamorous, huh?

Sometimes it feels just like yesterday, and other times it feels like the longest eight years Of. My. Life.

See, when people compare marriage to war, its not really an exaggeration. Well maybe it is.

But war is a great metaphor for marriage. Take away the blood, guts, and dying, and there you have it.  (Unless you count that one time when I dropped the electric drill into my husbands calf. That was pretty bloody...He still has a cute little star shaped scar to prove it.)

Two very seperate, very different entities are trying to come to terms where both can live realitivly at peace with the other without giving up too much of themselves.

Sometimes you're hanging out back at camp, sometimes you're in the trenches.

I can honestly say that being married to James has definitely been more hanging out back at camp, and less geurilla warfare.

There have been some times when we were on the same page, and sometimes when terms had to be laid on the table.

I don't know about James, but this last 2-3 years have been the hardest for me. We seldom see each other. We kinda tag team each other on the way out the door. Between him getting off at fiveish to me going in at.. fivesh, we often don't have time for more than a peck on the cheek and an I love you, as my kids are screaming and crying for me not to leave them.

It's hard.

But this is happening because he is supporting a choice I made. He is sticking around and watching the kids, and keeping his mouth shut when the house looks the way it does.

He's holding me up, while I improve myself. He's not tearing me down. Or holding me back.

It may seem like a small thing. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm a fan of the big gestures just like every woman is, but marriage is made up of the small things. Its a battle every day, and the small things add up.

So tonight as we celebrate surviving the 7 year itch, we'll tag team again, Probably high five as hes pulling screaming toddlers off my leg. I'll forget that very vivid dream I had of  Manu Bennett I had last night, and remember how grateful I am that I have James.

I'm so blessed to have a loving husband who respects and supports my choices, who loves our children and is an amazing father to them, and who, despite how much I dont know how or why, still wants me with the fervor of a fifteen year old boy.


P.S. In the course of writing this post, I put a 3 year old in time out, then put the two youngest boys down for a nap, changed Steven's game in the wii and rocked the baby to sleep.

I'm a freaking rockstar.