I have been know to wax euphoric about being a mom. I’ve written reams on breastfeeding, the mom/dad equation, and milestones. I’ve shared what little wisdom I’ve gleaned from the journey of 2 to 5. I’ve achieved neither fame nor money for what I’ve done, but man, I’ve loved it. The friendships, the memories captured in adjectives and thoughts. It has felt like full-bodied preservation of my life so far, until the other night.
Sean has been getting together with two of his childhood friends. They sing, and as they do I writhe with self-loathing for not having that skill and butterflies for the hotness that is my husband singing crazy-sexy songs. Seriously, weak-in-the-knees, ready-to-release-cat-calls kinds of excitement. For my husband. Three kids, ten years, a business and a 100+ year old house and I have third-beer, second date giggles and rushes of longing.
That’s nowhere in my archives. I have the odd post on love and fun, but as the crow feet spread ever wider and the tautness of my skin loses the fight, I am not giving the moments when we pulls me to him and kisses my neck and says, “You’re more gorgeous than you were that first summer. My dream girl, Amanda.”
That needs to be here, damnit. Which leads me to the other night, after weeks, months actually, of rehearsing they were heading out for an open mic night. I had known it was coming and was so deliciously familiar with the set list that I could mouth the words as they each sang their part, right down to when they’d shake the shakers and tap the tambourine. A series of calamities had occurred with our family and night-time sitter that made my going impossible. It hadn’t seemed lie a big deal until they were getting ready to leave.
I was crestfallen. We had always found a way to balance parenting and partnering. We’d shoehorned date nights in and blurred post-dinner play and bedtime into prime time alone time and had been satisfied. I felt tremors of something that rocked me, an emotion I’d either suppressed or only just tasted for the first time: No. I want this. I want to do this for me with him.
It was embarrassing to feel a desire to shirk my duties, to quickly find someone to take the girls, but the truth was, I wanted to be with Sean. I wanted, if only for those 60 minutes, to go and be his girl. After the shame of that emotion slipped out the door with the guys, I rolled it around. So I wanted to be with my husband, the father of my girls.
Is that so bad? Is there some awful lesson in the girls seeing that I have a passion outside of my love for them? That beyond the breastfeeding and block-building, I have a side of me that smells like perfume and leather? That after getting married and having babies there are still nights that bring the sexy click of heels on hardwoods and the whiff of fallen leaves and aftershave as mom and dad head out and a babysitter bakes cookies and reads stories?
I think my desire to leave a legacy for the girls faltered in its focus, they need this side of mom and dad. The kissing and the laughter, the leaving and returning, to truly show them how beautiful their life and their family really was. The next time he plays, I’ll be there. And I’ll send texts to the girls and snap shots for the blog. And after, as they sleep upstairs, I’ll dance with him in the kitchen before we tiptoe up to kiss them goodnight.
You are so right. It IS important for your girls to see that you have a life with their dad that is independent of your relationship with them.
And as an aside, my word verification? "boykiss"
Not only is what you're feeling not wrong, I think it's imperative that we nurture the couple piece of the family equation. To do otherwise is to risk losing that connection that keeps couples, and families, together.
I often tell my kids that Mommies and Daddies need alone time together, too.
What a breath of fresh air to read from a mother to talk so fondly about her partner/husband. We usually read about the slagging off, the funny side, the clumsiness.
It's so great that you feel like that still. I must say, I'm with you on that. After eight years together, me and my husband are just like when we first met, if not a bit more tired.
Of course that's important! You are more than a Mom, and being more than a Mom does not lessen the importance of being a Mom. You have more than one role in life and it's important to nurture all sides.
your love IS a legacy for your girls
Definitely letting your girls see that their parents are in love is a wonderful thing and shows them what they should look for for themselves in the future. And if you don't take care of the marriage? Well, we know how things like that go. You're smart to make your relationship a priority. If mom and dad are happy, kids are happy too.
You absolutely need to nurture that woman-self part of you… that part of you will gain strength as the kids go out into the world more & more. Stay whole, & rock on, Mama!
Definitely important for you to have that side of your life — and for your girls to see it!
I remember when I was a kid, my friends would always comment on how my parents went out every Friday night, and how much fun they had together. It's actually a great memory for kids to see their parents as social, fun people.
PS. Thanks for popping over to my blog earlier today! I have you bookmarked now!
i love this post!!!! of course it's not wrong!!!! 🙂
Thanks for stopping by my blog!
I LOVE this post.
My husband played guitar in his younger days and started again and working toward being good enough to play in public. I will be there to swoon when he does.
We have been together over 35 years and always kept the couple connection as the kids grew up.
My daughter says we probably gave her unrealistic expectations for her future spouse, but she isn't willing to settle for anything less.
*Blushes* Thanks babe.
Awesome… and it is so great they they see that passion.
Absolutely it is important for the girls to see that side of their parents' relationship. How else will they know how fabulous it can be? What it is they need to be looking for? You have to show them a little of that too.
Now… if only I could figure out how to go about doing that myself.