To the man who married me when I was different,
When we first started dating, I was fun, carefree, flirty,
and liked to stay out late. We made out
in the back seat, ate cereal for dinner, and held hands when we went somewhere.
I am not that person anymore.
Now, get tired at 8 o’clock.
I’ve been refilling sippy cups, breaking up wrestling fights, processing
why a little went to time out with him, changing diapers, putting littles to
bed, finding their blankets that they MUST have to sleep with that are in the
back of the cozy coupe outside, and praying that bedtime comes sooner. Thank you for going to bed early with me and
moving the hair out of my eyes each night as I fall asleep.
My body is not the same.
It has brought two littles into the world and has stretched and curved
in order to grow life. I won’t ever be
“those sizes” again and I will always worry about how my body has changed. While I miss my old thin self, I will always
be fighting to be proud of my body.
Thank you for telling me that you always find me attractive and that I
look skinny. You make me feel beautiful,
and I believe you.
While I used to not have a fear in the world, I now have a
million. I worry about littles falling,
busting open their head, having a fever, getting hurt in bizarre ways, because
that Mama Bear just comes out even when I don’t want it to. I panic and wake up in the middle of the
night sweating to make sure they are breathing. Even when they are almost
four. I know they can’t walk around in a
bubble, but I can’t function when I think about something happening to
them. Thank you for letting me freak out
over nothing and telling me that you don’t understand why I’m scared but you’re
there and won’t let anything happen.
I only want to wear yoga pants and my favorite sweatshirt
you gave me. Everywhere. All day.
The mall. The store. Church. Date night.
I no longer want to curl my hair, put on all the makeup, and wear a
short dress. I am normally cleaning,
cooking, doing laundry, and making appointments. A sweatshirt is perfect for that. Thank you for never having those expectations
and always noticing the days I do dress up.
Sometimes I am quiet.
I have spent all day answering questions like, “What is God for?” and
“Why does Granger have a pee-pee but can’t go in the potty?” I’m just tired of talking and listening. Sometimes I just want to sit by myself in my
own thoughts. It’s not that I don’t love
you. I just need the quiet space,
because I never get it anymore. I used
to always love being out and doing stuff every minute of every day. But now a quiet night at home with a bath,
book, and snuggling sounds good. Thank
you for sitting in the silence with me and holding me while we don’t talk.
I snap faster and harder.
When we dated, I was more patient.
I didn’t have as many people pulling me in different directions. I could control my own boundaries. But now I have no control on what time the
screaming starts, the napping ends, or the plate falls and breaks. I try to be patient all day. When I come in
and your muddy boots are in the doorway right after I mopped up all the dried
macaroni and turkey pieces, sometimes I snap.
I am so sorry. I don’t want to be
that way. Thank you for telling me when
I hurt your feelings and for picking up your muddy boots without snapping back.
It’s amazing how we as humans change. Thank you for loving me when I’m fun and
crazy and happy.
But thank you for loving me even more when I’m tired,
larger, anxious, dressed down, quiet, and snippy. You are forever good to me,
even though I’m not who you married.
Your ever-changing wife,
Liz
