Mawage

Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam...
And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva...
So tweasure your wuv.
-Clergymen from The Princess Bride

In todays realm the American image of marriage is a difficult imbalance of healthiness especially, amongst the whispers of feminism and 50 Shades of Grey clashing with the ideal woman. Be strong and independent. Be sexy and horny. Mix in an instinct of nurturer and gather and a very confused woman manifests. Add a husband and some kids and there is some real potential for a dysfunctional family.

My husband and I just celebrated our 6th anniversary, which was, well... just okay. We returned to the Smoky Mountains that harbors our small wedding chapel. It was a rainy for the majority of our stay. A fact that could have been overlooked, however my husband and daughter both had runny noses with sore throats. Suffice to say, most of our time was spent inside trying to remain cordial with one another. It was not miserable, feeling remorseful for my husband's health, but it will probably not be a weekend to remember.

These past 19 months have been a constant adjustment as parents and as a married couple. I want to play super woman pretending I can do it all, but by the time my husband returns from work I do not want to lavish him in kisses because I miss him. I want to hand over the little monster so I can get dinner started. By the time it is bedtime for my daughter I should be relishing for intimate time with my husband, but I am hoping he is too tired so I can tackle my incomplete chores in the wee hours of the night. On weekends, my husband I and love nap time allowing us to work together or apart outside.

I want to feel ashamed for this lack of affection then I talk to other women/mothers/wives and understand I am not all that strange. Other women struggle with intimacy, moodiness, and contempt. We still recognize our love and thankfulness for our husbands, yet there is this inner conflict, a tug-of-war, between attempting to be a good mom and an emotional strung out wife. Our husbands should always come first, but they are always last. The interaction a married couple have is usually towards the end of the day. The wife is emotionally spent. The husband is left to relate with her leftover remnants. It is hardly fair, but what else does she have to offer?

Honestly, I wish all women/mothers made homemaking their profession and lived in a commune. The mothers would have total authority and responsibility of their child's rearing. Living in community everyone shares in the mental stability. Even I who stay at home need a break. I could ask another mother, "I need two hours to myself. Can you cover Lucy? I'll trade with you tomorrow." Also by living in community, I can watch the more experienced moms learning their tactics. What works and what does not.

Instead, I think I am Supermom. But I'm not. How many times has someone offered to watch Lucy for me? I worry she might cause a ruckus. How many times have I offered to watch other parents' kids? I think they worry their kids would overwhelm me.

I look at some moms and I can instantly recognize who is seamlessly designed for motherhood. Their role as a mother is effortless parenting like a work of art in motion. Four, five, six. The number of children does not matter. They know how to discipline. They know how to adjust for circumstances. They know how to encourage and quick to react lovely in every action. And the relationship with their husband reflects the same harmony. I can almost immediately discern who has a selfless marriage by the mother's temperament towards her children.

Then there are the moms who appear completely deflated overwhelmed by whining screaming demands. The inner struggle can be seen as lifelessness in their eyes desperate for an indefinite intermission. They are worn and dried up tired of wearing a fake smile. Seeing the hurt and discouragement draws attention towards the suffering marriage.

I do not want to be a hallow form hoping for the day to end. Especially after only one kid. My main objective should be to serve my husband. He needs to be first. All the the family counselors will agree the couple is the core. If the marriage is healthy and joy binds the couple together the family as a whole is tightly bond. Want good kids? Make sure you are happy with your husband.

I looked through the camera to load photos for this post and I found two photos of just my husband and me. One shot accidentally cropped out my daughter. So one intentional photo of my husband and I for an entire year. I am not sure we even look happy. More like a defeated simper. We are selfish creatures. We focus on ourselves and our problems and our accomplishments. When we become boggled down we forget we are a team. We are not living for ourselves. We are living for each other. A cohesive tool stronger together than apart. My husband enhances me and I enhance him.

I could say I really need to try to make my marriage better for the sake of my daughter. But that would be my first mistake. I have been blessed with an awesome man who treasures me, is devoted to me, and loves me flaws and all. There are not enough words to describe the wonderful qualities of my husband. Our biggest hinderance is good communication. Our greatest asset is working together. We adore one another and our daughter is the product of that love. We are two imperfect humans learning every day. I pray the commitment and patience never runs dry because I am looking forward to growing old with my husband. Sitting on the porch swing arguing who has the best memory or where I left my teeth. We will walk laps around the farm poking fun at one another as we hold hands telling stories we have heard before a hundred time.

Most marriages do not end with a sunset complimented with a blissful kiss. There are chapters of good times and bad. My husband is my perfect match a fact I never want to take for granted. Purposeful effort is required. Truthful intent must be practiced. We are our daughter's closest example of enduring love. In a world full of divorce and substitutes she needs to believe steadfastness with joy is possible.