Last night while I was feeding Will, I picked up my Kindle and started reading a mushy-love-story of a novel–one of those where the hero and heroine love each other so much that they literally cannot survive being apart from each other–and instead of making me feel all romantic, it made me sad.
Sad because my husband and I haven’t spent more than 10 minutes alone together since the baby was born.
Sad because that must-spend-time together romance disappeared about 12 seconds after our firstborn was born.
Sad because there was a time when we were that hero and heroine back in the day when we were 21 and had no responsibilities aside from going to work and hanging out with each other.
So much has changed.
And I’m not sure how to get the old “us” back– but I know we have to somehow, someway. Because the truth is that I can’t stand the thought of my kids growing up in a home where their example of marriage is what they’re seeing right now: Two people who do love each other but never quite have time to make that love grow. Two people who are so focused on just surviving that they never focus on each other. Two people who once had that mushy-love-story type of love, but lost it along the way.
Does anyone have any tips?!