So, now that we’ve established that Ron takes a way more attractive selfie than I do, let’s move on.
Today my mum had the kids for the afternoon-evening, so that Ron and I could do his accounts, and so that we could go to a movie. That picture, from which we have moved on, is us all glammed up outside the Globe Theatre in Ahuriri.
Parenting is fucking difficult, and marriage is fucking difficult. I think marriage and unschooling-parenting is like a recipe for some fucking trialling times as we all confront our shit. So, that’s hard too.
A lovely friend of mine, in response to an SOS message of mine, once said to me, “I don’t know anyone in the active phase of raising children who doesn’t divorce-fantasise.” I call on that piece of wisdom frequently.
Because it’s true, we do play out “what-if” scenarios. We do wonder if this is “it”. We do despair that it’s every going to get any better.
But also, “the active phase of raising children” What a sanity saver that phrase has been for me. This is a “phase” – a phase, by definition, PASSES!!! When I am despairing and wondering and fantasising, I cling to that.
And today, I was super excited about the shelves that we’re putting up in the laundry – the builder brought them back with a nice rounded corner and I took them out the back and sanded them and painted them with their first coat of “High Tea” and I had my headphones on, but nothing was playing through them, and because I was so excited, I started singing, “I’m so excited, and I just can’t hide it” quite loudly and when I walked into the shed Ron was there with a smile on his face totally loving the fact that I was singing off key at the top of my lungs because I was excited about the curve of a shelf and the colour High Tea.
And tonight, while we were watching the movie, I laughed at the top of my lungs at a funny bit and he laughed in equal measure at the movie and at me.
And, he brings me coffee in the mornings and after nearly twenty years together I’ve stopped having to send it back for either more or less milk.
It is really challenging sometimes, and I’m probably never going to post a selfie of us losing our shit at each other, or scowling into our bowl of activated paleo muesli because something one of us said three days ago is still pissing the other one off. You’re probably never going to see that photo. But, those days happen. And I think they’re part of the deal. They’re there so we can grow through them.
I once asked a friend of mine who was married to the same man for I think about 50 years, what she thought the key to a happy marriage was, and her answer was instant: sheer cussedness.
It’s just as well we’re all quite stubborn then.