Balance

It's not rocket science, you know?  If you want to keep your relationship alive, you have to commit to it, tend to it, keep your life in balance.  It has been pretty darn tough doing that as we've had to navigate life with two small children, Didier's demanding job, drop offs and pick ups and after school activities, homework, my need to write or do anything for myself, really, sleep.  Petty fighting and snippy comments, OK mostly from my end, had taken their toll on us and I must admit, I was starting not to recognize us.  The "us" that was "we" before "them."  Now I love our lives together and feel truly blessed to have this family, but I also loved being with Didier when all his focus, his love, his energy, his effort was directed towards me.  I am seeking balance.


When you finally meet someone who tickles your fancy, someone with whom you wouldn't mind spending more than a day or two, someone with whom you not only could consider spending your life, but could not imagine not spending your life, all kinds of magic begins and there is light and sparkle.  I remember it so well and catch glimpses of it when I peer at Didier as he sleeps or when he is looking at the girls as they explain something very, very important to him yet again.  But I am certainly not the first, nor will I be the last to say that children, demanding work, lack of intellectually challenging work, can dampen that burning, yearning fire pretty quickly.  It is not to say that we do not love each other as we surely do and say so often, well more often than we once did, but the expression of that love is often different.


Where we were once able to just pick up and get away, take the day off to roam the city, stay in bed, go to a cafe, there are now new demands.  Getting to school on time, having reviewed vocabulary words, read the assigned books, packed lunches, packed backpacks, planned for after-school activities, wiped tears, calmed fears, taken one, two, three trips to the bathroom before getting in the car and then having to go once strapped in, washed dishes (by hand as we have no dishwasher), taken care of household chores and details certainly changes the morning routine.  There are fewer opportunities to stare into each others' eyes, hold hands, have a conversation about ideas and thoughts and dreams rather than the minutiae of family life. 


While children are often adorably narcissistic, they do actually get a little twinkle in their eyes when they see their parents in love too.  They feel safe, secure, protected because their parents are a force guiding the family team.  My girls were watching morning battles over seriously insignificant details of our day and wondering what Mommy was yelling about in the car.  Again.  And I really wasn't yelling about anything other than the fact that I was tired, dissatisfied, overworked, overwhelmed, and lonely and wanted validation for those feelings. 


And then it happened.  One Monday morning after dropping both Lily and Virginie at their respective schools, we found ourselves alone in the car.  Without needing to go to the grocery store, pay any bills, open the gate for the gardeners, cleaning ladies, or plumber.  A free morning to be together.  Alone.  As a couple.  We walked on the beach at Paynes Bay, near the fish market and marveled at all the fish heads on the ground and manchineel apples dropped from the trees.  The turquoise of the water is just luscious at that spot and we took it in, holding hands and smiling.  We took a drive to Brandon Beach off Spring Garden Highway and joined the groups of old Bajan men soaking in the water chatting, Rastas bathing, young mothers splashing their babies at the shore.  We walked and laughed and watched young couples playing hookie from school in the throes of early love.  We remembered.

On the drive home, I put my hand over his and without uttering a word we reconnected.  Warts and all, this IS the man with whom I want to spend my life, raise my children, discover the world.  I just needed to see him again, to look at him, and be with him.  I hope we can do this at least two or three times a month.  I know it doesn't seem like much, but it is a real start.  Virginie attends nursery school for just half a day right now to get back home and have her nap, so we will have three hours at best.  But that three hours, that day, was pure magic.  And it brought us back to love.  Of course, that night there was chaos and screaming and vocabulary words and giggles and story time and dinner, dishes, and bedtime.  But there were also smiles.  There was peace.  And there was balance.


(c)  Copyright 2011.  City Mom in the Jungle.