Marriage

The Vital Difference

Posted on by noemikjames / 31 Comments

My husband has been staying at work late this week. I texted him around 5:30pm saying he should take what time he needed, not to worry, so I wasn’t surprised when I hadn’t heard from him by 7pm. It wasn’t until almost 7:30pm that I thought to check the calendar and see if there were a reason he wasn’t yet home. I had forgotten he had a retirement party. 

I texted him a few more times. He never responded. This is a common occurrence in our marriage; I am much more inclined to communicate throughout the day. My husband rarely responds, and when he does it’s usually monosyllabically: Yes. No. Okay. Sure. 

The retirement party ended at 7pm, but by 10:30pm my husband still wasn’t home. He never texted to say he was staying late. He never even reminded me he had this event. 

Finally at 11pm he responded to a text, one in which my frustration was apparent. At 12:30am he finally waltzed in. 

And therein lies the vital difference. He can just be gone for an entire evening and not think twice about home. He can carry on with his life as if we weren’t even here. 

Can you imagine?

I can’t. I could never be gone for so long and not check in, at least once. This is partly because of who I am, but it has more to do with the expectation that I would be there. I’m the parent that handles evenings. If I’m not there, plans have to me made. My absence must be accounted for. 

It’s such a fundamental difference in who we are and how our family factors into our lives. I am at the center of my family. If I am gone, objects must be set in motion to counteract the loss of my gravitation pull. My husband is a satellite. His absence can go unnoticed. He can fall out of orbit without glancing back at our little solar system. At least for a little while. 

I don’t think he can ever really understand what it’s like to have the pull of so many lives circling around you. To be the center, always. To never get a break.

It’s hard not to feel understood. It’s lonely. 

Uncategorized

Quiet

Posted on by noemikjames / 7 Comments

The blogosphere is so quiet these days. Most mornings I wake up and there are only three or four posts in my reader, and one or two of those are how-to´s on living a minimalist life. And while I´m still pursuing simplicity, I don´t crave a bunch of posts with bolder headings and short, concise, helpful paragraphs these days.

I want to read about people and their lives. I want to hear from all of you.

I know it´s hard to write about our lives right now, when it feels like we are living them under a shadow of doom and despair. But I think it´s important that we keep coming to our spaces and saying what we need to say. Even when we´re not sure what we need to say, or how to say it.

That has been my biggest problem lately. At the end of the night I feel so overwhelmed and inundated, it´s hard to carve a path back to who I am. I am struggling, but even that struggle is hard to put into words.

But if I´m going to ask other people to write in their spaces, I should be writing in my own.

Here goes…

My kids are getting big. Physically, they are big kids. Tall. They grow through size so fast. A couples of weeks ago some family friends dropped off a bunch of clothes at my parents´ house — hand-me-downs for my son. They´ve been living in my trunk for weeks. Yesterday I finally took them all out and sorted them. I´m getting better at only storing the clothes I actually think we´ll use, and immediately giving the rest away. 

With the khaki pants I´ve been stock piling (my son has to wear khaki pants to school), I don´t think I´ll need to buy him anything in 4T. For this I´m grateful.

My daughter is growing like a weed. She is 6.5 years old but I´ve been buying her 7-8 clothes since the start of the school year. I wonder sometimes if I expect more or her because of her size. I catch myself almost saying she´s seven when someone asks her age. It´s hard to remember she´s six when she´s as tall as some third graders. 

My son is the same way. People are astonished that he just turned 3-years-old. I think sometimes even I forget. 

It feels good to have purged most of the 3T clothing and folded and put away the 4T stuff. I find great satisfaction in getting tasks like that done, perhaps because I can see the progress made and know when I am finished. So much in my life feels ongoing right now; it´s valuable to have a completed task I can point to and say, yes, I did that, it´s done.

What have you completed recently?

Parenting & Family/Work/Teaching

#fuckeverything

Posted on by noemikjames / 3 Comments

Betsy DeVos’ confirmation really bummed me out yesterday. It’s not like I was particularly thrilled with the direction the Obama administration took with education policy, but the idea of that ignorant asshat taking the reins of education reform in this country makes me want to cry.

Elizabeth Warren being silenced on the Senate floor actually did make me shed tears.

And the Trump administration’s attack on judicial review is freaking me out.

I really don’t know how to keep giving a shit when it’s just one monumental cluster fuck after another.

As you can probably see, I’m struggling to crawl out of this #fuckeverything attitude I’ve fallen into.

*   *   *   *  *

I’ve been thinking a lot about next year, considering “ideal” schedules I might propose to my principal when we meet later this month. It’s becoming clear to me that leaving my husband to manage the mornings alone just isn’t tenable. Not without a second car. My daughter’s school just starts too early (7:50am!), and is too hard to get to on public transportation (two buses, one of which only runs every 25-30 minutes) to put that on them. Getting one adult and two (ornery) kids ready that early would make them all miserable. I don’t think I could manage it myself with the car. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.

I’ve been considering asking to stay at the other school next year, but not in a co-teaching position. This would allow me to take my daughter to school AND teach more 7/8 classes. Both of those are very good things, and they would offset the obnoxiousness of being at two schools.

I was actually feeling pretty good about it, because I know this is an ideal scenario for the district. They get a Spanish teach at both campuses without having to hire someone else! It’s a win-win.

Except this week it has been really rainy in the mornings and it’s taking me over an hour to get to work. Monday I was 10 minutes late and yesterday I was 20! And this was with me leaving my daughter’s school earlier than normal. I can’t, in good conscious, ask for a first period class at that school when some simple rain makes me that late. The traffic is just too bad for me to get there on time.

So now I’m not sure what to do. It seems like I can’t continue teaching in my district now that my kid is at school in the city. At least not with my new principal, who won’t accommodate my schedule like they did last year (when my prep was first period and I could arrive before 2nd). That means I REALLY need to find a new job, and it needs to be one that starts at 9pm.

My co-teacher suggested I ask if I could have first period prep at my school and teach three or four periods there, and finish the day at the other school. My principal originally said that I he couldn’t “justify” allowing me to come in during a first period prep (like they did last year), but maybe if I were teaching at two schools that would be grounds enough to “justify” it. Lord knows no one else wants to teach at two schools; I can’t imagine anyone would bring up equity issues about it (no one did last year that I know about, and our school is such a rumor mill, I’m SURE I’d know about it).

That would be a doable solution, since my school is closer and 2nd period at my school starts much later than 1st period at the other school–I’d have plenty of time to get there. Also, my school starts earlier, so going from my school to the other campus is easier (there is about 25 minutes between the end of 5th period at my school and the beginning of 6th at the other). Also, we’ll have the same schedules next year so there won’t be a time when I have classes at both campuses that overlap.

So yeah, that is my current plan, I guess? Of course I’ll still look into finding a new job, but I honestly can’t imagine being offered on that makes the $25K pay cut worth while, especially not when I’m looking ahead to my dreamed of year abroad, which will surely require a significant amount of savings. Also, the new job would need to have a later start time, or be closer to the city (I can’t look for a job in the city, as that would require an even bigger pay cut).

It’s hard, this balancing family and a job thing. And I don’t even have a job I like all that much! I’m just trying to pay my mortgage, feed my family and be able to drop off and pick up my kids (in a very high COL area, to be fair). I can’t even imagine the sacrifices people have to make when they are are actually working a job they are passionate about. Blerg.

As I said before, #fuckeverything right now. Seriously.

Uncategorized

5:35am

Posted on by noemikjames / 2 Comments

Both my kids were up before 6am today. 

I officially wave the white flag. 

The good news is they usually have an easier time getting dressed and ready when they’ve been able to play for a while. 

Oh and I had a chance to respond to the comments on yesterday’s post while they were playing. 

Happy Tuesday everyone! It’s going to be a doozie! 

Parenting & Family

When does it get easier?

Posted on by noemikjames / 27 Comments

Yes, I am asking that question again, even though I already said that it was getting easier. I guess you get used to easier and then you start wanting it to be easier still. Or maybe it gets easier and then it goes back to being harder.

It’s just that some times, okay a lot of the time, my kids can be so damn exhausting.

You know how kids go through cycles? Oscillating between incredibly challenging behavior and excitingly new developmental milestones when suddenly they can do so much more, and are so much more agreeable? The thing is, when you have two kids there is rarely a time when they are both in an easier stage. (I seriously don’t know how people with 3+ kids manage it!)

My daughter has been moody lately. She is always a little moody, but lately her attitude has been making me want to pull my hair out. Nothing is good. Nothing is fun. Everything is terrible. How do 6.5 year olds even get into a mind space like that?

I feel confident we are handling some challenges well; I believe that giving her a space to sleep on the floor in our room was absolutely the right more and has helped her feel more positive about going to bed, and sleeping in general. I am also very thankful that my husband is willing to sleep in our daughter’s room once a week so she can sleep with me; that time together is clearly incredibly important to her. We rarely hear about nightmares any more, though sometimes I hear her having them on the floor in our room. 🙁

I am also taking steps to support her at school, getting her noise cancelling headphones for homework time at aftercare (the people who work there say it makes a world of difference in how much she is able to get done) and a wiggle cushion for class (its an inflatable disc that helps kids with ADD sit still for seat work–I might get one for aftercare too). I made her a checklist so she can go through her backpack and make sure she has everything before walking to aftercare or being picked up.

I also know I’m making mistakes. I get too frustrated when she loses things (oh my god! I’ve spent hundreds of dollars replacing the shit she loses!–see checklist above) and when she responds in a way I feel is totally age-inappropriate to disappointment (usually when she can’t have some sweet treat she is obsessing over). I see her crumble when she registers my frustrating and disappointment and I know I’m hurting something deep in her soul.

I also feel like, STOP LOSING YOUR SHIT OVER NOT GETTING A LOLLIPOP! YOU JUST FINISHED A BAG OF COOKIES!

So yeah. It’s hard.

My son isn’t make things any easier. Oh my god how that boy takes me to the brink and back every hour of the day. No one is a sweeter snuggler. And no one can throw a Thomas train against the wall with such indignant rage. He is like the Hulk–so destructive when he’s not getting what he wants.

I guess we’re just headed into yet another dip in both their behavior cycles, and I better hunker down and get ready for it.

Seriously though, does it ever get easier? Really and truly? For a prolonged period of time (like entire years)? I think for some people it does, but maybe for me it won’t. I don’t things were ever really “easy” for my parents with my sister. They still aren’t and she’s almost 30. I think some people just have a harder time navigating this life. And their parents have a harder navigating it with them.

It doesn’t help that I’m not the most even keeled person myself. {Though I do think the Vitex I started taking to balance my volatile hormones is helping. My PMS was WAY less affecting on my last cycle, and my boobs only hurt for 4-5 days! (Instead of 10). It’s supposed to take about three months to really start working so I have high hopes for good things.}

So yes, I know I am part of the equation. I try to give myself what I need so I can give my kids what they need, but holy shit sometimes it feel like everyone in this family is so goddamn needy. And everyone needs me.

Neither kid will even speak to my husband when they wake up at night. Both demand that I snuggle with them before bed. I started getting my son dressed in the mornings because he was making life hell for my husband (who was in turn, making life hell for me), which has totally destroyed my already fragile “me time” in the mornings. My son won’t even participate in his soccer class unless I go with him; when my husband takes him he just melts down on the sidelines until they finally come home.

Today we took the kids to a women’s basketball game at our alma mater. It was fun. Kind of. I got a picture with the kids and the mascot, and it’s definitely a memory I’ll treasure forever, but the actual outing was mostly just exhausting. The kids pouted and whined most of the time. They hung on me for the entire second half of the game, which frustrated the hell out of my husband. Minute to minute it really wasn’t very enjoyable, though I could show you pictures that would suggest we had the greatest time. I think that is what parenthood is like, at least during these early years… Incredibly bright highlights set apart from a backdrop of grey drudgery. At least that is what they feel like for me. I read blogs by other mothers that suggest they may be having a different experience.

I don’t know, maybe my expectations are still too high. Am I wrong to get exasperated that I STILL have to tell my 6.5 year old not to put her gaping mouth on the back of the seat of the train? (THREE TIMES IN ONE RIDE!?) Or to be aware enough of her body (that she has draped lengthwise over the bench) to not repeatedly hit the person in front of her? (Yes, we eventually moved to much higher seats where no one else was sitting.) Is it really too much to ask her to accept my “No, we are not having an Icee AND cotton candy,” without a 10 minute meltdown that requires me bodily removing her from the game? Do I expect too much of her?

Clearly I do. And whether what I expect is age appropriate or not, she can’t manage it yet so it doesn’t really matter.

I worry a lot of the time if I’m pushing her too hard. I know in some situations she needs that push and will be happier in the long run for me making her uncomfortable initially. Sometimes I’m less sure. Like with reading. I know she could read books way above the level she is reading them, but she just isn’t interested in taking on the challenge. Do I let her keep picking the books she wants, when they are clearly too easy? Or push her to read at her level? Right now I push her some nights and let her take the easy road on others.

{I really struggle with school stuff because I’m a teacher and I want to instill in my daughter an understanding that homework is a priority, not something you do when it strikes your fancy. I also know my kid is smart, but I also recognize that there is a part of me that would delight in her being really smart (like her father). I catch myself comparing her to her peers, and it’s only when I find out they are six months or more older than her that I stop wondering how they can be reading 200 page chapter books by themselves in 1st grade when my daughter still balks at a Level 3 selection in the Step-Into-Reading series. I also catch myself bristling when other people refer to their kids as “gifted” or “brilliant.” (Though some of that bristling is a conditioned response from dealing with many parents over the years who had very unrealistic understandings of their “brilliant” kids’ abilities when the parents weren’t around to “help them.”) When I have visceral reactions to shit like that I know there is some deep seated shit going on that I’ll eventually have to deal with.}

{Even more interesting, I seem to have zero expectations of my son’s intellect. I don’t know if this is because he is my second child and I didn’t invest the same amount of time and energy into his “education” as a baby/toddler, or that he’s a boy (god, I hope it’s not because he’s a boy), or if it’s just because I’m too tired to give a shit. One might argue that I have been downright neglectful when it comes to my son’s “education”–I was taken aback when I realized he could sing his ABCs at 2.5 years old, mostly because I had never bothered to sing them to him. I have to remind myself to practice counting with him too. If it weren’t for school he’d be getting nothing but a decent foundation in reading.) When people (mostly his grandparents) comment on how smart he is, I mostly look at them with a quizzical expression, and think, Is he? I know this is fucked up, and I have attempted to examine where it’s coming from. It’s not that I think he won’t be smart, I just don’t seem to have any expectation that he will be. Where as with my daughter, I think I do. So yeah. Messed up shit that I have to get a handle on pronto.}

So there you go. Some very raw and honest trains of thought from a tired and disheveled mother who is just trying to do the right thing, but would appreciate if her kids could stop making it so damn hard. Please be kind in the comments, because I see how messed up a lot of my thinking is. It’s a work in a progress, as is everything.

Life

A Beautiful Commute

Posted on by noemikjames / 5 Comments

My commute is 30-45 minutes long. It sometimes drives me crazy, but I can never deny how incredibly beautiful it is.

There are two freeways that run the length of the peninsula between San Francisco and Silicon Valley. 101 runs right through the middle of it all. It’s plastered in billboards and most of the time it’s a parking lot.

Luckily I don’t have to spend much time on 101. Instead I get to drive down 280, which cruises along the Santa Cruz mountains, right past the Crystal Springs Reservoir. It’s magical.

Most mornings fog perches on top of the mountains and feathers through the trees. It curls along the top of the water and dances with the shore. It is breathtaking.

Last Friday my daughter didn’t have school (Lunar New Year) so I had a few spare minutes to stop and take some pictures of this little paradise I get to drive by every day. How this paradise exists between San Francisco and Silicon Valley is a mystery to me.

I hope you enjoy a glimpse of it in these pictures, which truly don’t do it justice.

Life

Conflicted

Posted on by noemikjames / 12 Comments

Tuesday was just what I needed. I was able go get a sub I know and like, so I wasn’t worried about things at school. I got a lot done–not everything on my to-do list–but enough to feel productive. I also got a little break from the regular stresses at work, even though I was at home… doing work.

I spent the morning at a cafe grading papers and writing a test. When my husband texted that he and our son had left, I went home. I watched a shitty movie and graded packets. I finished making the test. I worked out. I planned the next three weeks for all my classes. I gchatted with my husband. I talked with a friend on the phone.

It was a good day.

But really, what is the point of writing that post?

. . .

I come here and there are all kinds of things I could write about. But with the political turmoil swirling all around us, it feels trite. And yet… we have to live our lives. I am conflicted.

I don’t really know what else to say. Things are bad. Really bad. Catastrophically bad. How does one absorb that and then simply continue living her life? How does one strike a balance?

Right now I am burrowing deeply into the minutiae. I plan for possible futures. I think about the summer, I think about next year. I think about next week. But only in the context of my life. Like maybe if I can shape our existence, everything will be okay.

Of course it won’t be. And I am deeply privileged that I can even imagine possible futures without worrying my or my family’s imminent safety.

It’s only been two weeks. A fortnight. How are you we supposed to survive this? How are we supposed to keep fighting?

I don’t have the answers.

And so I will schedule this post, and go back to making a study guide for my 7th and 8th graders. Then I will pack my daughter’s lunches, and lay out my clothes, and brush my teeth and go to bed.

And tomorrow I’ll wake up and live another day.

This is our life now. I suppose, sooner or later, we’ll get used to it.

And that’s the most terrifying part.

Life/Work/Teaching

Catching Up

Posted on by noemikjames / 3 Comments

Some seriously gnarly respiratory shit has been going around lately. The fifth grade went to outdoor ed the second week in January. It rained most of the time they were there so they were stuck inside all together. When they got back, half of them had a serious cough; three of the teachers were out that week. They’ve been kind enough to share it with the rest of us since their return. My son sounded like he had walking pneumonia for over a week. Now my daughter has it. The two of them are constantly sharing their germs with me so I knew it was only a matter of time.

Last weekend I was sure I’d finally gotten it. My throat burned. My lymph nodes were tender. My ears hurt when I swallowed. All week I waited for it to descend but it never did. My throat just kept hurting and my ear were stuffy and soar, but I never came down with the gnarly cough everyone else has.

I felt horrible too. I went to bed early every day last week, while the laundry piled up and the piles of papers collected dust, ungraded. Finally, Saturday morning, I felt a little better. I’m not quite sure what happened. Was my body fighting off something and got the better of it? Is this just some other virus with more subtle symptoms? I’m not sure. All I know is I lost about a week and now I’m scrambling to get caught up.

I’m actually planning on taking Tuesday off to… wait for it… get caught up at work. Yep. I will be taking a day off of work to grade papers and plan. I think that sums up being a teacher, you need to take time off of work to get caught up at work.

The house is a disaster too. I just have so, so much to do. But I know it will all get done. And if it all feels like too much, then it’s my responsibility to simplify things so it feels more manageable. I just need a little time to simplify. Ah the Catch-22. 😉

Life/Marriage/Parenting & Family

Anatomy of a Marriage, Part 2

Posted on by noemikjames / 36 Comments

{Continued from yesterday’s post.}

Of course I hoped my husband and I would have children and be happy together, but he couldn’t promise that he’d ever want to have kids, let alone commit to having them in the near future. At this point, I was 29, but he was 28 (which is VERY young to be building a family in San Francisco), but my clock was ticking. I wasn’t even sure I’d cycle once I was off birth control. There was no time to fuck around.

Finally, after a year of counseling my husband decided he’d rather have a family with me than leave me to live kid-free.

For us (for me) there was no casual period of just giving it the good, old-fashioned go. When I went on BCP at 24, I hadn’t cycled in almost a decade. I wasn’t about to stop taking them to just wait and see what might happen. I immediately went to acupuncture, boiling sticks and leaves into horrific potions that I’d gulp down between gags, and chasing a Traditional Chinese Medicine diet with a million supplements. Even before we knew we had any reason to worry, trying to get pregnant was stressful.

Then we had an ectopic pregnancy. I was crushed. We grieved. I was sure our tale of suffering and loss had only just begun. Again, not a fabulous time in our marriage.

Then, miraculously, we got pregnant again. And after an anxiety-riddled pregnancy, we had our daughter. I was elated. The first year was pretty great.

Then she became a toddler and the realities of parenting set in. My type A personality took over as I tried to do all the things. This was fortuitous because, for the most part, my husband was totally and completely overwhelmed. When I thought maybe my husband should help with something I generally didn’t say much because, after all, I had wanted the kids. In my mind I had pressured him into parenthood; if it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t be here.

That mindset only enabled my husband’s non-confrontational, Type B personality. If he can get out of something he doesn’t want to do, you better bet he won’t do it. His parents did A LOT for him (and continue to enable him, even now). The transition to parenthood was truly challenging for him. It didn’t help that our daughter was a spirited child from the start, who thoroughly exhausted us. She rarely napped, had massive, prolonged tantrums that required us to keep her from harming herself for extended periods of time, and generally wore us out.

My daughter’s disposition was truly challenging. Even I, a teacher who had done a ton of childcare in her teens and twenties and had a lot of experience with kids of different ages, felt totally ineffectual most of the time. I read all the books, but the strategies rarely worked with her. Two- and three-years-old were HARD years for us. It didn’t get much better at four, or even five. Of course, by then, we had another child to parent.

The arrival of our second child definitely rocked the boat for us. It threw the delicate balance (or lack thereof) into turmoil. My husband had to step up in ways that weren’t required before. Yes he was doing more than he had with our first kid, but there was exponentially more work (or seemed to be). While my husband was exhausted from doing more than he ever had before, I became more and more resentful as the work load quickly overwhelmed me.

Eventually, after much exasperation and resentment, a ton of arguments and plenty of all out fights, we’ve finally settled into a rhythm that works well enough for both of us. Neither of us is super happy with it–both of us feel overwhelmed much of the time–but we’re trying to make it work.

The thing is, we’re both unique people with different strengths and weaknesses. What is relatively easy for me, is incredibly difficult for him, and vice versa. Our kids also complicated things.

Take “night parenting:” I basically do all the night parenting. We’ve tried to institute more equitable arrangements, but they never last. There are many reasons why I always end up getting up with the kids every night, and being with them most weekend mornings. First of all, the kids want me in the night. They make this known loudly–I could never sleep through their screaming for me, no matter how hard I tried. If my husband gets up with them, I end up awake in bed and neither of us is getting any sleep.

I can get up, get my kids what they want, snuggle with them pretty quickly, and then fall back asleep pretty easily and consistently. I almost always fall back to sleep within minutes of returning to bed. My husband, on the other hand, takes forever dealing with them, and then can’t fall back asleep for 45 or more minutes. He also needs more sleep; he generally gets over an hour more sleep than me a night but is always more tired than I am.

I realized recently that it doesn’t make sense to make him share the night parenting with me. The burden on him to get up with them in the night is much higher than it is for me. He is miserable the next day when he has to be up with one of the kids. When he’s miserable, I’m miserable. The reality is I’d be fine doing the night parenting if that time, and the interruption to my sleep, were recognized and valued. Honestly, having my contributions be recognized and valued would go such a long, long way.

I wonder though, if my contributions can ever be accurately valued when my husband has never done so much of what I do (and no, I’m not exaggerating, he has literally NEVER many things that have fallen to me in these last six years of parenting).

There are other complications. We only have one car and I use it to commute. My husband drops our son off a little later than he could because he doesn’t want him to have such a long day at school. This means he gets into work later and then needs to leave later. I, on the other hand, am technically done by 3pm most days. I feel a lot of pressure to pick up the kids sooner rather than later. So I take care of pick-ups. It’s almost impossible for my husband to get to even one kid before 6pm on public transportation without taking an hour off of work. Usually, if I can’t pick up the kids, I have to ask his parents to get them for us.

Our kids compound issues as well. They are both horrible at falling asleep. Neither one of them is asleep before 9:30 or 10pm, and they need a lot of attention until they finally conk out. Our son is usually up (after at least one night wake-up) by 6am. It makes for really long days and precious few moments to ourselves.

We do have a couple things going for us. We both have high thresh holds for clutter. I usually start getting stressed out first (probably because I know I’m going to be the one who eventually has to clean it up), but I rarely feel pressure from my husband to make the house look nice. I appreciate that. We’re both okay eating less than stellar meals most nights, though my husband is trying to cook more, which is nice.

So I guess in the end, the reasons why we can’t seem to manage an equitable arrangement are complicated. I had to reach deep into my past to explain why I married a man who didn’t even want kids when we met, even though that was my top priority in life. That explains my initial guilt at asking him to step up, which allowed us to become deeply entrenched in unproductive cycles of avoidance and resentment. Of course, so many other dynamics are also at play. Who knows what intricate combination of forces molded my husband into the person he is. Sure one could call him lazy (I have on occasion), but he is a thoughtful man who I believe respects me; the internal mechanisms that keep him from stepping up to assume responsibility are surely as convoluted as the ones that compel me to perpetuate our unsatisfying dynamic. Perhaps he lacks a certain resiliency that his childhood, and inherent nature, couldn’t provide. I definitely take on more than I can manage, until I lose it and melt down (I grew up watching my mother manage everything without ever breaking down, so my default response to generally that I can do it, even though that isn’t always the case). I’m sure I do as much to maintain our dysfunction as he does. We’re both working on it.

I feel like I could write 1000 more words on why we fail to achieve an arrangement that feels equitable, but I think I’ll stop just shy of 2500 and say this instead. Early parenting has been a challenging time for us, for a lot of reasons, but I have hope that the next stage will be better. I think both of us will find parenting elementary school-aged kids easier and more satisfying; the requirements at that age play to our strengths. We both struggled greatly in the toddler phase (in fact we still are; our three-year-old son is driving us batty), but we are seeing the light as our daughter matures. In two or three more years, we may just have an marriage that feels equitable. I’ll let you know if we ever get there.