Skip to main content

Why We Stayed

Eleven years ago Scott and I were on the verge of divorce. Our differences seemed irreconcilable and insurmountable. I could go into the details but they are unimportant. I loved him but I didn't particularly like him. He wasn't terribly crazy about me, either. He had his reasons for not liking me and I had mine. We were miserable.

I recall one night in particular that I spent sobbing into my pillow while praying and laying out all of my excellent arguments for a divorce. They were really good reasons, I told Him. So what do You say? Don't You agree that we need to be apart?

The answer was very clear. I heard no voice, I had no visible sign but I felt the resounding answer.  No. Stay with him. It will be better.

So I stuck it out. And he stuck it out. And Heavenly Father was right. It got better. Again, there were no choirs of angels or silver bullets. It took time, patience, and work and it still does but I'm glad I didn't follow my own arguments. We love each other and we like each other. Sometimes we irritate the crud out of each other but that is the nature of family. We learned how to communicate better with each other and we learned to accept each other the way we are. And because we accepted each other and found each other again, we enlarged our family 8 years ago today.


He is the epitome of joy. Not only is he the most delightful and joyful child, but he encompasses all that is right in our family. We did not immediately decide to have him when we re-committed ourselves to our marriage. We decided to have him after we'd healed and grown a great deal and could say with certainty that our family was not only worth saving but worth adding to. Our happiness multiplied exponentially. He is my cuddly boy, my impulsive hugger, and the best little boy and blessing ever.

We now travel our life road together, hand in hand. We laugh with the kids, we drive them to school or pick them up, we play tag team parenting when the other one isn't quite connecting with a particular child at the time, and we reserve a night all to ourselves and go out without distractions. Not even the best little cuddly boy gets to come with us. 

I'm a better person when I walk beside him. We're better together with the kidlets following us. Our children are more confident and secure knowing we are united. 

But I still bug the crud out of him sometimes. It is my duty. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Most Dreaded Words

 Everybody knows that Christmas is about keeping the Santa Secret and pleasing your children. Therefore, the most dreaded words are uttered on Christmas Eve. "I changed my mind, I want a [pony, scooter, bike, Red Rider BB gun]" A close second place winner is, "Can I have a New Year's Eve party?" Then, "Me, too?"

Too Sick to be Sick

I am sick.  Really and truly sick.  I even took a sick day and felt no guilt whatsoever that maybe I wasn't sick enough to have a "sick day."  Because I am.  My 5 year old was sick, too so I took him to the doctor.  I refuse to acknowledge that I'm sick because I don't get sick.  So with absolute glee, my little boy climbed up onto the table, stuck out his tongue and conversed with the doctor.  I heard something about cloudy ears and antibiotics and then I just turned it off. It hurts when sound reaches my eardrums. We drove back home, I turned on the television, brought in the dog, and let the babysitting begin.  I crawled back into bed and swam somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.  The kids came home from school.  I might have acknowledged them.  I made chicken noodle soup from scratch.  I couldn't even think.  My husband caught me in a sway and asked what he could do.  I grunted some terse instructi...

I Hate Pants

I wrote this on my Facebook page: Makayla just wandered upstairs and found me reading on the sofa, pants discarded, as usual. She laughed at me. I laughed at her. Then I realized that Makayla Jensen is not my daughter. Go home, Makayla! I'm not putting my pants back on just because you are here!  There are now two camps. People who agree with me and people who have absolutely no idea why anybody would discard pants upon entering home. Fortunately, I've found that I'm not in a camp all by myself. I found an article of 10 Reasons Why I Hate Pants: Best summed up by this Venn Diagram sent by Scott's cousin: