Dear kids,
(and to Jess, who's Happily Ever After is just about to begin)
When I was a little girl, my friends and I often played "house." In this game, we were the moms of baby dolls (always girls) who we endlessly dressed and pretended to feed and put to sleep. Mostly, our interactions were about dressing and feeding our babies, and about putting them to sleep. But occasionally, conversation would stray into talking about our husbands who were always "at work." For a time, we argued over which occupation our husbands had - with the unspoken agreement that having the most prestigious husband made us the Best Wife. We argued over the highest value job being doctor, accountant, or lawyer (why these three professions and not federal judge or astronaut, I really don't know). But growing tired of this portion of the game, we called a truce and decided that each of our husbands was a "doc-a-law." That is a doctor, accountant, and lawyer together - what we thought would truly be the greatest job title of all time.
Never once in this game did we discuss any of us having our own job besides taking care of little "Mary" (in vogue due to Little House on the Prairie and always the doll name chosen first) or "Sarah Elizabeth" (my go-to favorite name if I didn't get Mary). It was not in our brains that we could be a doctor, accountant, lawyer, or (drumroll...) doc-a-law, or any other profession for that matter. We were moms.
Computers in the "olden days" didn't have graphics and there was no Internet so I could not have imagined marrying a graphic designer or becoming a web manager.
Fast forward to my school years - and throughout them, I did well. I liked learning, school was generally engaging and I liked being a good student - not because I needed to in order to get into a special college, but just because it was part of who I was. Maybe I started as a good student early on and just kept with the script all the way through.
I went to college. I found classes in psychology interesting so that become my major. The purpose of college didn't really connect with specific job ideas. I had the idea that I needed a degree and college was fun so why not? I also worked part-time to make money for fun and a few necessities. And I liked to work. It was rewarding and interesting. I met great people. The structure was helpful for my somewhat hectic and scattered life.
Then I met your dad and quickly got swept into ideas of love and marriage that dominated any unoccupied hours and left little room for anything else.
And it was all to culminate with our wedding. Not just a wedding, but a Temple Marriage (hosts singing "ahhhhh"). AKA, the end-all, be-all achievement of all my training as a youth in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. We would get married and together, we would blissfully sail into the sunset, "Happily Ever After."
So far, so good - this was what I had planned for. All the important people in my life were supportive and proud. It was beautiful and wonderful and happy and exciting.
Here we are, ready to set sail into "Happily Ever After"
And then...
We got back from our honeymoon to sweltering heat that practically baked the charming stone house we had rented. No, it did NOT have air conditioning. No, I had never lived without air conditioning before. And we were broke. And we didn't have any furniture. And I was lonely for family, now hundreds of miles away. It was not a sweet homecoming.
There was one unforgettable moment of absolute reckoning for both of us. It was during a trip to Walmart to buy a fan so we could get some sleep, on the floor, in our 115 degree house (not exagerating). Staring at the shelf of fans, I realized that I could not just say (as I wanted to) "Okay, that was fun. Now it is time to go home." This is home. THIS is my life now. And I REALLY DON'T KNOW THE PERSON I JUST MARRIED.
We finally slept with our new fan blowing through a wet sheet. We laughed again. We comforted one another. We let some of our careful packaging peel off as we started sharing a living space and a bathroom. I loved him and it was scary, but the panic subsided and once again, it felt like we would be ok.
Then Monday came around, and Jeremy went to work. And I had NO IDEA WHAT TO DO.
I was not ready to be a mom, I knew that. So I was not ready to plan and devote my energy there.
I didn't have a job and though I applied to several places, the want-ads were pretty scarce and my qualifications were few. I had a small amount of school work left to finish my degree so I worked on that. But what else? What should I do with the bulk of my time? What exactly does a 'homemaker' do?
Someone had given me a subscription to Martha Stewart Magazine and under the haze of inexperience, everything in it seemed beautiful and possible (of course!). So I set about doing "Good Things®," decorating the house, and nesting with the tiny amount of money we could scrape together. In our 3' by 7' kitchen, I baked casseroles for 8 and made batches of jam, still so hot that I locked myself outside the house in my underwear not just once, but several times. I even scrapbooked!
This is what nightly dinner 'should' look like, right Martha?
Looking back, I can see that I was crazy with naiveté in those days. Some of the oddness of life was necessitated (we picnicked on the floor for months before we could afford a dining room table). But beyond that, reason was not linked to ration at all. Making 50' of fresh garland that ways 200 pounds and won't even fit on our house: reasonable. Husband coming home to cold sandwiches instead of a hot cooked meal: unreasonable. Huh? My logic filter was totally off-line.
Career paths, work/life balance, household management, meal planning, vacation planning, marriage and parenting models, financial priorities - these are things your dad and I both had not thought through. It took us years of trial and error to figure out how we wanted to live and what we wanted our lives to look like. Luckily, we grew together through the process and continue to work towards the same goals and ideals. We agree: the jam was good but that garland was ridiculous.
Life has continued to evolve through our adventures, work situations, and the birth of you two. My day-to-day has changed many times and I am sure will continue to as we move along. The word 'should' has slowly been banned from my vocabulary and thinking.
Right now, strangely, I am back to spending much of my time as a 'homemaker' - baking casseroles for 8 and even scrapbooking! I may even have another 50' garland in my future. It is hard to tell.
Little did I know, 'homemaking' for me looks NOTHING like this.
But after all this time, I realize LIFE is so much different than what I pictured as a kid. Being a wife is not just dressing my baby while my husband is at work. It is years of traveling, and working, and childrearing, and talent development, and community building, and.. anything I want it to be.
"Happily Ever After" isn't so much a surface to leisurely float on, but an ocean to dive into and explore. Love, career, family - there is so much more depth to all of it than I could even imagine!
Get ready to dive in - it's awesome down here!
My blinders were on for a long time but I feel like they might be finally coming off (it's about time, right?). And after marrying your dad with my eyes clamped shut, it feels like a miracle that I still love him with my eyes this wide open. It is a miracle that he still loves me. I was not open with him about a single aspect of myself before we got married. How could I be? I did not know.
It makes me want to help you understand yourselves and life's possibilities better than I did - to see what is out there and dream big from the get-go.
But you are still so little.
In the wide, life-ocean out there, I really can't take you scuba diving yet, but we can definitely snorkel. We have started already. And as I am planning our summer, I am hoping we can take you further out to see a few more sights and try a few more things.
Please know, you are both part of my "happily ever after." And even with all the hardships - from the sleepless nights in the beginning, to the great de-worming last week, I am so grateful to have you.
I love you oh-so-very much,
Mama
