Ritz and Easy Cheese
My husband has a saying, “life can’t always be Ritz and Easy Cheese.” I’m not sure where it came from but it has become a staple saying in our house. (Only in Kentucky would a buttery cracker and a spray cheese be considered “the good life.”)
Today is our nine year wedding anniversary and this saying sprang to mind this morning as he stumbled out of bed to help with the kids after only a couple hours of sleep (he works second shift).
Some would say we are lucky. But luck has nothing to do with a good marriage. Marriage is work. It’s honesty when you don’t want to hear it. It’s compromise. It’s loving someone and also wanting to punch them in the face (sorry, honey).
We had just turned 30 before we got married. We had been together for three years before that and had lived together for most of that time. We had some tough conversations/times before we got married and we thought we were prepared. We knew marriage would not be easy but we were both committed to making it work. We both committed to going to therapy if it was needed. Our eyes were open.
But it’s one thing to say you will talk through your problems and another to actually do it when you are so deep in your anger and resentment that all you can do is build on that frustration and forget all the reasons you fell in love and committed to a life together.
I found myself in this place several months ago. My husband has almost always worked second shift, leaving me with the kids 4 or 5 nights a week. Being a single parent when you are actually married is very isolating. Bedtime in my house is always the worst and most stressful time of day (put a tent over us because it’s a bonafide circus). My kids are always with me so talking on the phone to friends and family is impossible. I can’t just meet a girlfriend for dinner on a Thursday night because I have to find a sitter on a school night. I grew more and more resentful and upset. It all culminated one night and I told him I was done and then wouldn’t talk to him.
This was not in the master plan we had before we got married. We had agreed to talk through everything. But I meant it when I said I was done. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to walk away. I felt like I was already single, so why not make it official.
But after three days and lots of crying myself to sleep, I took both the kids to their schools and came home to talk without interruption.
He had no idea how I felt or why. He listened when I am sure I was being unreasonable or blaming him for things out of his control. He took responsibility for things that were his. I calmed down and recognized that not everything is his fault. Sometimes life sucks and you have to suck it up and get over yourself.
A friend told me early in our marriage that you can’t get mad for stuff your husband doesn’t do unless you ask for help and he doesn’t.
This is probably the hardest part because how he can walk past the same pile of clothes and not see it!! But he doesn’t and he isn’t a mind reader. It’s not his fault. The thing is, when I ask for help, he is always there.
That’s the difference. That’s commitment. In my opinion, a good marriage is getting off work, sleeping for 3 hours, getting up to help with the kids, then hoping you can go back to sleep. It’s talking through your shit when it would be easier to walk away. It’s buying maxi pads for your wife after a miscarriage even though it was the most embarrassing thing you have ever done.
Even tonight, on our anniversary, he is working and I’m going out to dinner with a friend. (My sitter will earn the hazardous duty rate for covering bedtime.)
So we will save our celebration for for another night. (Easy Cheese probably doesn’t have an expiration date anyway, just like a good marriage).