Marriage Can Be Fucking Hard- Part II

H asked me this question recently, “Does it always have to be this hard?  Will it ever get easier?”  I took him to mean our life as a whole and hopefully not just our marriage or parenting because man, once you put those two together it is just downright exhausting.  They say the Army is the toughest job you will ever love but the dude who made up that slogan was clearly single and childless.

I believe it will get easier but not for a long time.  When you are an overachieving couple who travel for work and you throw three kids under five into the mix and a dog that loves to just drop “nuggets” all willy nilly onto the floor whenever she feels like it, life is not just a bit busy it is downright spastic.  Coordinating a family schedule is like creating strategic war maneuvers for most of today’s families.  I know we are not unique.  In fact, I believe we are pretty average and that is the problem.  The pace, even when we cut out a lot of stuff, is daunting.  The kids being the ages that they are create such a demand on our emotions, bodies and minds. It all leads to epic meltdowns like I had last Friday with TD. 

What should have been our easy, no-school day turned into a day where her tantrums rolled in like seizures.  They held over our domain like black thunderclouds threatening to destroy every moment through the day.  Each time we survived one another arrived minutes later. This condition, and I am going to call it that, is something H and I cannot understand.  We have tried timeouts.  We have taken away privileges, eliminated sugar and done a reward system.  Nothing has worked.  We have gone the 1,2,3 Magic route and that worked the longest but it boils down to this very Veruca Salt motto, “I want what I want, when I want it.” That is what TD tells us when we ask why she has these screamfests.  Screams that make our neighbors think someone is in peril.  Screams that last so long and have me reeling and unable to deal with anyone else in the house.  Cries that have me calling the pediatrician who tells me to restrain her with no eye contact and gives me the name of a child psychologist.  Sigh.  And that is that.  That is the next step and it is a scary one.  I feel I have failed TD as a parent.  Somehow I am not giving her something she needs.  Somehow I have missed a parenting class on this issue.  I need the therapist as much as her if only to have someone to talk to about our situation.

When you add this into what H and I are already trying to do with our own relationship it makes one feel like they have been cast about into the sea. The water just keeps rushing into your lungs as you begin to sink below the surface.  Drowning.  That’s my current emotion. Do they have an emoticon for that?  Scotty, from the Enterprise, has just yelled, “She can’t take much more Capt’n. She’s gonna blow!”  Oh wait. That was in November and December.  And January and last Friday too.  Heh.  I want so badly for things to work out.  For things to remain calm.  I want to feel like I am doing something right again.  I am sick of feeling like I am spread too thin.  I’m sick of the demands.  I never knew that it would all be this hard and this non-stop.  Because like H I wonder, “Will it always be this hard? Will it ever get easier?”  If it doesn’t soon I fear we are on a sinking ship. 

Maybe I just need to start going to bed at 6 p.m. before the kids and see what happens. 

Comments