Too Pooped to Party

Posted on October 21, 2014 Updated on October 21, 2014

Back when Marm and I were in college and were “just being friends” we discussed things from A to Z. It never mattered how important or frivolous the topic. We loved to be together and spent hours talking to each other. She was the best friend I ever had and I simply couldn’t wait to see her each day.

One day while we were talking she asked me, “How many kids do you want to have when you get married?” I told her, ” I want a large family. Six is about right. How many kids do you want to have when you get married?”

“I want a large family too,” was her reply.

This didn’t surprize me since I already knew how much she loved children. I remember another box being checked off in my head in regard this wonderful woman. I was beginning to think she might be the one, but wasn’t willing to admit it to myself yet. I was already falling in love with her at this point.

Obviously we did get married and we did have that large family. Five wonderful children: Annie, Aaron, Abbey, Amber, and Amy. They are our filled quiver, our “handful”. Our house was full. Full of love. Full of memories being made. Full of surprises. Full of noise. Full of bedtime routines. Full of sleepless nights. Full of sick kids at times. Plainly put, it was packed full of life.

I remember how Marm and I would collapse onto our bed after an unusually hectic day and look at each other with that dazed “deer in the headlights” look. I asked her once at such a time, “Back when you asked me how many kids I wanted to have, did you ever envision all of this?”

“Nope, never did!” was all she said as she just sat there and stared. This was that rare quiet moment of the day that was filled with absolutely nothing, and we were too exhausted to actually enjoy it.

Here we were alone together. No kids clambering for something. No one yelling. No one doing something sneaky. No cries for water, another story, or another prayer over them. It was our time and whoop-tie-do.

Exhaustion warps reality. I remember how we would interact through the day. Short comments, my huffing and puffing at requests for needed help, her frustration in not wanting to have to deal with one more thing. It was so easy to be irritable. Impatience was always around the next corner. Miscommunication was inevitable and caused its own mess. Where were the days of ease when all I wanted was to see her as soon as possible; when being with her was enough and talking with her was the highlight of my day?

It was so easy to lose sight of her, of us, and the dream we had back then. Here we sat, a crumpled couple on the bed of our life. A heap of folk beaten down by the routine, whooped up on by the fulness we created. Then I would stop and see her again and see something at that moment I never told anyone, maybe not even her. Here was the lady I chose, the love of my life, and she said, “Yes”. She was more beautiful to me than ever as she sat there with her hair a bit ruffled, her clothes showing signs of the day’s activities, looking tired and worn out. I fell in love with her all over again and silently vowed to be less irritable and impatient. I told myself I wouldn’t huff and puff anymore when she needed help. I would listen better and communicate clearly.

As the years passed and our adventure unfolded I would break all of these vows numerous times, but I’ve never stopped trying to keep them no matter how impossible it seemed.

Marm is and always will be my dream come true. And our family? They are now and always have been our dream come true. We aren’t as exhausted as in the past and it’s easier now to remember who we are together. Exhaustion brings an altered sense of reality about life while one is in the midst of it. I remember our times of being “too pooped to party” and the woman I shared it with, both then and now. We are living our dream together, and I am still head-over-heels in love with her.