It was Christmas about four years ago. My nearly one year old little boy had been by my side and around my neck during much of our family gathering. As much as I loved being with him while he experienced his first Christmas, I hadn’t gotten to visit much with family. I found myself thinking that it would have been so much easier to just take care of him at home.
I sat down in the middle of the living room and tried to keep him from getting in the way of his older cousins running up and down the hallway. It was exhausting. That is when I noticed that my husband seemed to be enjoying himself. He was wrapped up in conversation, and I’m not sure that he was even aware that my son and I were in the same room.
As my son began to crawl right into the middle of the chaos, I had this familiar thought,
“Why am I always the one in charge?”
I wondered where my husband thought our son might be… but I already knew. He knew that I wouldn’t let anything happen to our little boy, and as I long as I was around, he could visit with family and “check out.”
I was beyond frustrated. It just didn’t seem fair.
Unfortunately for all of us, I made a very unhealthy decision in that moment. I kept my feelings to myself.
When it was time for us to make the drive home, my husband carried on a conversation with me as though nothing had happened. He was completely unaware of my feelings and frustrations.
This only further aggravated me.
How had he so easily overlooked my emotions? Why had he just assumed that I would take care of our son? Why didn’t he offer to help? Surely he had at least some idea of what he had done “wrong.”
Instead of speaking kindly or openly, I shut down completely.
This helped nothing.
Eventually, the feelings resolved themselves. But they were repeated again and again under different circumstances.
“Why does he get to take a nap in the evening? Why does he get to rest while I clean up dinner? Why does he….”
Each time, my frustration grew. Each time, my resentment grew. Each time, the issue only grew deeper.
But what if… what if instead of all the silly silent frustrations, I had told him how I felt? What if I had addressed these feelings years ago when our son was first born?
If only I had stopped, walked over to my husband and kindly said to him,
“Hey, honey. Little man is being awfully curious, and I’m afraid he is going to get hurt if we let him in the middle of the bigger kids. I’d like to visit for a few minutes before we leave, so I’m going to need you to keep an eye on him while I take my attention away from him for a while.”
I didn’t have to be rude. I didn’t have to say, “Do you think you could just watch your son for five minutes?!” While I huffed and puffed away.
It could been a simple exchange that made my husband aware of my emotions and gave me a moment to breathe. He would have gladly helped. He wasn’t ignoring us on purpose.
Part of sharing my life on the internet comes with knowing that I will not be understood by some MANY. I know that our story isn’t the case for all families. I’m not saying that it is.
But I think a universal truth can be taken from this snapshot of our life. Whether you are a husband and wife who both work and split the duties, or a stay at home mom or a stay at home dad… no matter what you have worked out in your home, please hear me today.
Simple communication can prevent so much heartache and put an end to offense before disagreements take place.
Instead of pushing down our frustrations, and then holding them against our spouse, it is always best to stop, consider your emotions, and in love, share your heart.
Sometimes, it can feel like our marriage is in need of a serious miracle. And other times? Well, other times, all we need to do is say, “I know that you love me, but when this happens, I don’t feel very loved. Can we work on that?”
Marriage is tough business. Marriage with kids can feel downright impossible. But when we choose love instead of anger and openness instead of silence, we can give a voice to our hearts and let life breathe through even the most difficult seasons.
Some days, I write and wonder who needs to hear my words, and other days I know that I am preaching truth to myself.
