|Image taken from HERE|
Our son was born first (weighing in just under 10 lbs.), and he was sleeping through the night within a couple of weeks after birth. Since I’d had a c-section, it was a while before we could return to normal. Yes, we were actually convinced that we’d return to normal at that point. The first time Mr. Snoots changed our son’s diaper, he was sprayed with baby boy peepee while cleaning up a poo. Needless to say, he didn’t want to procreate for a while after that.
Once our daughter was born, the grandiose delusions of returning to normalcy were completely squashed. We suddenly realized we were never again going to have a shower together (or alone), have our morning constitutions alone, have sexual relations alone, or anything else for that matter. We had given birth to our *wonder children*! Life would never again be the same, as we struggled to afford them all of the same activities as their school friends. It was a constant parade of carpools, festivals, sporting events, amusement park trips, skiing every winter, and summers at the lake.
I remember praying (I know, don’t judge) for them to hurry and reach the age of mandatory school attendance, so we could at least see each other for a few minutes a day without the loud hustle and bustle of having children in the house or shuffling them from one activity or another. It was a 7 year wait. We were both becoming somewhat impatient. We had to go out of town to be alone together. That, or wait until the blissful 2 weeks they were at summer camp, which was really only 10 days because you had to count the day they leave, their end-of-camp activities & awards for a weekend.
Once our son was in 2nd grade & our daughter was in 1st grade, we devised an *EVILPLAN* to meet at home during the lunch hour, for what we referred to as *nooners*. Of course, since the kids were in private school I had to do a mandatory 2 lunches delivered to both kids, every week, which narrowed the time frame. But, the *nooners* were the magic glue that kept our marriage together all those years we were absorbed in child rearing. I mean, you can’t exactly have relations when your children are in the bed across from you on club soccer or basketball trips, or when they come into your room asking why Daddy is hurting Mommy, which is the stuff therapy is made of. If you dared to lock the door at night they would stand outside wanting to know why, which would spoil the mood anyway, or you could hear them vomiting all over your bedroom door as they called your name (Mommy!), to your horror. It was tough going during those years (though we giggled about some of it in secret).
Just as things are going along smoothly for a few years, they suddenly turn 16, get their license to drive, you foolishly buy them a car, and they start coming home for lunch. Every. Day. If you try making whoopee on Friday or Saturday nights when they are gone & there are no games to attend, it seems they always need to run back by the house or call for something they need. You’re looking at another 7 years until this ends. All you can do is look at one another in pain. When they finally leave for college, you make sure they go at least 500 miles away because you love them and want them to be worldly….
What has worked for you guys? Do you agree with Snooty Primadona? Let her know in comments.