Morphing into Mama

To the Next Twenty-Five Years

On my recent only-four-years-from-40 birthday, Husband and I celebrated something much more momentous: our 25th anniversary.  Obviously, if you do the math, you'll notice that this anniversary was not a wedding anniversary since you can't marry when you're 11 years-old . . . at least not in California.  Rather, it was the anniversary of the day we met. 

Of the 25 years we've known each other, we've only been married for five and a half.  The other nineteen and half years were filled with our first kiss, holding hands, breaking up, remaining friends, watching each other fall in love (and live) with other people, helping each other through breakups, and encouraging each other in our careers.  We had the privilege of watching each other grow from children into adults, and now we get to watch our own children grow. 

When you marry your oldest friend, you know without a single doubt that you'll be married till death do you part.  You know your union has roots that run as deep, if not deeper, than the roots of the redwood outside your kitchen window.  You know that the trust is so strong, you never have to think about it.  Ever.  For a person who comes from a family that acts as if spouses are expendable, knowing all of this brings me enormous comfort.

However -- I don't let it bring me too much comfort.  And Husband doesn't either.  Instead, we like to feel a wee bit of discomfort to help keep on our toes.

See, rather than assuming love is either unconditional or conditional, Husband and I decided before we married that it is both.  We decided this because we think the belief that spouses should always love each other and never leave each other -- or that it is a spouse's "job" to love you no matter what -- can (at least for some people, and I don't think either of us want to find out if we're one of them), drive a partner to act as they choose without considering the other person.  Believing only in unconditional love essentially permits us to nag as we wish, be controlling, treat our partners like one of the children, expect our partner to meet our needs while giving very little or nothing in return, ridicule daily, bicker constantly, and essentially do as we please whenever we want because it is the job of our husband or wife to never ever leave us and always love us. 

(While this thinking may seem extreme, every named behavior in that last sentence was based on married couples I know or have known.)

In our view, love is unconditional when your spouse gets cancer and all of his or her hair falls out.  In such a horrible situation, you stay by their side, support them, care for them, and let them know they're still beautiful or handsome.  But love is conditional in the daily life of a marriage, when you're going through the routine of cooking meals, doing laundry, bathing the kids, mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, paying the bills -- all that unglamorous, unromantic, un-tragic, and mundane shit where those behaviors I described above can so easily occur.   It is conditional because if Husband were to control me, or ridicule me, I'd feel more anger and dislike than love towards him.  Likewise, if I were nagging Husband, bickering with him daily, or treating him like one of the children, he would probably feel more anger and dislike than love towards me.

The belief that love is both conditional and unconditional reminds us to treat each other with kindness and respect daily, not just when something tragic happens, and not just on our birthdays or at Christmas.  It reminds us not to take each other for granted.  It keeps us on our toes.

When you've known each other as long as Husband and I have, I think it would be really easy to slip into taking each other for granted in so many ways as we go through the daily routine of our life together.  That's why I'm glad we determined together beliefs from which to operate, beliefs that allow us to feel secure in our marriage but also keep us on our toes, so we don't take each other for granted. 

This makes me look forward to the next 25 years of knowing each other.

Where I'm At

Over at PiP, I sometimes like to ponder stuff.  I'm intellectual like that.  You can either ponder it with me, or you can tell me to stuff it.  Your choice.

Now, if you'll excuse me, tomorrow I have an only-four-years-till-40 birthday for which I need to mentally prepare (which is code for: "I'm off to the store to buy vodka").

Unsolicited Parenting Advice #5: How to Put Eyedrops in Your Tod-lar's Pink Eye

Your Tod-lar may awaken one day with an earache and a greenish goo oozing out of his right eye.  If this happens, take him to the doctor immediately as he may have Pink Eye.  Do not, instead, attempt to put a warm Earl Gray teabag on his eye as suggested by your holistic book-reading neighbor.  This will only agitate the Tod-lar and possibly ruin your rug.  Brewing yourself a cup of Earl Gray is, however, strongly recommended as the caffeine, you will shortly see, may be necessary.

It is likely that the doctor will prescribe an oral antibiotic for the earache and eye drops for the Pink Eye.   Because it is pink and comes with a nifty measuring spoon, the Tod-lar will have no problem consuming the oral earache antibiotic.  The eye drops, on the other hand, will be a challenge.  Hence the caffeine recommendation.

Though you may be anxious to administer the eye-drop treatment to the poor Tod-lar who looks like a pirate about to say "Aye mate-y" because his mouth is pulling to one side in response to the strange sensation of having the infected eye nearly swollen shut, we suggest not doing it in the pharmacy parking lot.  Doing so may result in your Tod-lar screaming fucking bloody murder, which may arouse the suspicion of passers-byers equipped with mobile phones with Child Protective Services on speed-dial.  Instead, forget your list of errands you had hoped to accomplish in a timely manner and head home to administer the treatment with the windows shut and the shades drawn. 

Once you pull into the driveway of your house, be sure not to be tempted by your Tod-lar's suggestion that the treatment be given on your front lawn just because he wants to go to Blockbuster as quickly as possible to rent Monster's Inc..  Giving in to this very tempting suggestion because you're anxious to get some work done on this unintended day off will most likely result in the Tod-lar screaming bloody fucking murder on your front lawn for all the neighbors to see.  Instead, tell the Tod-lar that if he insists on screaming he will have to go inside so you can sit on him.  The Tod-lar will most likely stop screaming and say, "Let's go inside so you can sit on me." 

Once inside the house, offer the Tod-lar a comfortable spot, such as the couch.  At first he may appear to lie down willingly.  Do not be fooled.  Rather, be prepared to tackle the Tod-lar as he jumps up quickly, flails his arms, and screams, "NOOOOOOO" at the top of his fucking lungs.   At that point, sit lightly on his chest, tuck his arms close to his sides and hold them in place with your feet.  Then, very gently but firmly use your thighs to keep his head still.  As he continues screaming, calmly say, "I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to help you."  Repeat as necessary. 

Though his eyes may be closed, position the eyedropper at the inner corner of his infected eye.  Place one drop in this green goo oozing area and tell the Tod-lar to "Blink!  Blink!  Blink!"  As he's blinking, place another drop in the same spot and repeat the "Blink!" command.  Then tell the Tod-lar in a chipper voice, "All done!" 

At this point, the Tod-lar will likely stop screaming and suddenly exclaim, "That wasn't too bad!"  Refrain from smacking him or yourself in the forehead.  Instead, calmly discuss how screaming actually made the entire incident so much fucking worse than it needed to be.  However, refrain from using any variation of the word "fuck" when actually speaking with the Tod-lar.  Such words should only be thought and not spoken.

After four hours, warn the Tod-lar that he has to have another treatment.  Also warn him that he will need drops in BOTH eyes because the nasty moose he insists on carrying around because he's "sick" and rubs all over his face has spread the infection to the other eye.  At this point, he will probably be resistant but more compliant than during the first treatment. 

By the fifth treatment, the Tod-lar will be a pro at taking the drops.  However, he will still ask you to sit on him when administering them.  Don't be alarmed.  This is quite normal and is not indicative of any Oedipal issue he will need to spend 15 years of his adulthood in analysis trying to overcome. 

Good luck.