I suspect my partner might be dealing with narcolepsy. His talent for drifting off the moment he relaxes is both fascinating and deeply frustrating. This alleged narcolepsy isn’t just a minor annoyance in our relationship; it often leads me to want to shake him awake with my weary, exasperated hands. I struggle to fall asleep, and when I finally do, I’m often jolted awake by snoring or the kids.
Recently, while discussing this with some friends, I accidentally said, “I think my husband has necrophilia.” I definitely need more rest.
I cherish my partner. I want to share moments with him, and yes, I want to be intimate with him. However, our little ones seem to invade every conversation and romantic encounter, often wedging themselves right between us. Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed by the drastic changes that parenthood has brought and the challenges it poses for maintaining a healthy relationship.
I occasionally fantasize about expressing my frustrations by making a mess—like stabbing a gallon of milk with scissors, letting it spill all over the kitchen floor for everyone to step in, so the whole house reeks of spoiled milk by the time he returns home. I’d greet him with a kiss and nonchalantly mention, “I did absolutely nothing today except turn our home into a dairy disaster. Oh, and by the way, we’re out of diapers, bread, and milk. See you in a week.”
Not long ago, I shared that my emotional needs weren’t being fulfilled, which unintentionally led to a conversation about my feelings before 8 a.m. Picture me in my nightgown, angrily unloading the dishwasher, while he stood there in his work attire, looking utterly perplexed. Meanwhile, our oldest two were in the bathroom trying to shove latex balloons down the drain. Such is the life of marriage and parenthood.
I often reminisce about the days when we were still trying to impress one another—when I would take hours to get ready, and he would surprise me with flowers or tickets to a show. The reality of adulthood, filled with budgeting, school supplies, and disagreements over lingering odors in the van, doesn’t quite feel romantic.
Or at least, that’s what I thought until one Tuesday evening at 5:45 p.m. I found myself standing at the sink, pondering the ridiculousness of Hamburger Helper—basically just a box of chemicals requiring meat and water. The boys were yelling, the TV was blaring, and I hadn’t seen my reflection in eight hours. When my husband walked in, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me deeply, time seemed to freeze.
In the chaos, I realized this journey we’re on together is one I wouldn’t trade for anything—even with the challenges of his narcolepsy.
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Summary
This piece captures the chaotic yet loving essence of parenthood, highlighting the challenges of maintaining intimacy and connection amidst the chaos of family life. The author’s humorous and relatable anecdotes illustrate the ups and downs of marriage, particularly when compounded by the demands of children.