Marriage Moats-Uneven Distribution
Published: Wed, 07/06/11
| Marriage Moats | Caring for Marriage |
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One time my son was being obstreperous. Not only that he was behaving badly. After a slew of ineffective attempts at redirection I banished him to his room. He continued to hurl verbal attacks on his sister, and I pronounced a decree of silence.
"NO TALKING!!!"
After a few weighty seconds I heard his small voice wend tentatively down the hall.
"Do you still love me?"
The furrows in my forehead released. I let out a long sigh.
"Just barely."
It is an inconvenient habit of relationships to ebb and flow. The adoration I felt for my firstborn translated into a weekly pilgrimage to the pricey photo lab to develop pictures. It cost about ten bucks a roll, and on John's salary as a freshly minted minister it was not exactly pocket change. But my indulgence never wavered for a year. I had pictures of Lukas in the red shirt, in the blue shirt, in his pajamas and in his striped swim trunks. Of course I got duplicates. There were whole rolls of him sleeping, others while he ate Cheerios. My devotion was all inclusive and I grabbed the most tangible way I could find to canonize the feelings. I still remember the disappointment of a batch that was overexposed. Those images were ruined, and could not be reclaimed. How would I survive the loss?
The profusion of affection in those early months contrasted sharply with the dearth I was feeling that afternoon outside of Progeny Purgatory. Held to the wall, I would concede to having affection for this pint sized rebel, but I was scraping the bottom of my emotional barrel to find the dregs.
Why can't the inter familial baseline be more stable? What if mothers felt a more moderate level of attachment to their children, one that they could reasonably sustain over time, without these disagreeable drops at toddlerhood and adolescence, and peaks at birthdays and graduation?
Suppose a woman's reaction to having her baby first nestled in her arms went like this.
"He is nice. I think we will keep him. Honey do you agree?"
Mothers of newborns have surplus endearment. Some would argue too much. Marketing researchers know the vulnerability of novice parents.
"Mrs. Odhner, you want the very best for your child, now don't you? Shall I sign you up for the deluxe package? Seventy-nine ninety nine for thirty six months. A bargain. Sign here." Inter marital devotion would depict similar spikes and valleys on a longitudinal graph. I recall a time during our engagement when John and I felt that separate chairs might as well have been different countries. We smashed into the same one.
The other day I found empty seats in church while he took Benjamin to the nursery. A friend I had not seen in a long time asked if she could sit next to me. I smiled and nodded. John came back and tapped on my shoulder. He was feeling displaced.
"I sit next to you every day. I never see Miriam," I whispered. I wish I could retrieve some of that affection, back when it was spilling out my seams, for the more parched moments of laissez-faire connection. Perhaps it would help to get out the photo albums.
Photo by Jenny Stein
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