We have two boys. One will be nine and the other will be five this summer. My wife had the first when she was 19 and I was 20. We were merely children ourselves back then, but had enough of a jump on him to try and keep him guessing. It's worked so far, but he is gaining ground quickly. When we had our first, we couldn't even get drunk (in a bar). Probably best that way. A stiff drink (or two) might have made it way to easy to go to sleep at night when he was screaming to be fed or just to be screaming and needed someone to, do, something. My wife and I decided early that two children was fair considering we both came from a family of three kids. It was agreed on my part merely because I felt the youngest or third child made me (the oldest) null and void and let's face it, one child per parent is plenty. I didn't see it that way when I was a child, so I felt there had to be a better way to set a family. This was my solution. I could have been wrong.
We miscalculated one thing in our equation. The youngest child. Our family is a youngest child's nightmare. Let me explain. My wife is an oldest child of three girls. No prior knowledge of boys before me. I am the oldest of three. Mitchell, is our oldest and the oldest child in his own right. Isaac, my youngest, has it pretty rough. I try to accomidate him but find myself fighting my natural instincts as an oldest child. This picture painted now? Poor kid, right? You better believe it. Let's go deeper into this one...
To be continued...
Thursday, February 17, 2005
KKFM in Colorado Springs had some crazy morning DJs who were promoting a paid in full wedding on Valentine's Day in 1994 to an engaged man or woman willing to rip their future in-laws first in a letter, then on the air for being "cheap" and refusing to pay for a wedding. My mother talked me into it and I poured all my teenage anger & spite into a strongly worded letter to the station. I won. In return, we received a fully paid wedding including but not limited to a honeymoon suite, reception room, cake, video & photo service, tux rental, etc. The whole thing is well documented. You can't make this kinda stuff up without proof. I have it, so hush.
How do we really know we are married? We survived each other's growing experiences together. Don't let me fluff this up for you. It was hard as hell and we made the other one pay their dues through our mid-twenties. The license is merely a formality for "legal" reasons and means nothing in my perception. I have never been asked to prove that I am married to this woman with a license. You wanna know why? Because they can see it in my eyes. This is not something a man admits openly without having paid the price. I have paid my price more than most men. Trust me. Most run in fear. For sticking it out and taking my knocks, I received a reward beyond my every expectation. I now have a beautiful woman for a best friend, a lover and a partner in parenting and life. Fellas, you just can't buy this kind of love. Trust me again, she married me unemployed.
So to answer my title question simply, yes. I am married. But not merely due to a piece of paper or her last name or the children we have. I am married to this woman because we to choose each other on a higher level. HAPPY 11th ANNIVERSARY, BABE. (Ew, mushy!)