Marriage Letters: My Job – Your Job

from weheartit

Dear Seth,

The transition you get from counting minutes and outlining lives into a billion technical documents to our home, where by the evening our boys are on the emotional ferris wheel of mania meltdown, that transition is minimal. Often you walk in still on the phone. You barrel through to a quiet closet, loosening your tie on the way. Since we’ve had our 4th, we haven’t found much balance at all. You never know if I’ll have dinner made. I feel successful to simply still be able to stand upright.

The other day I looked up “What Tarzan swings on” because I couldn’t remember the word “vine.” I guess it’s the tired thirties.

I just know that I could start going to bed as soon as you get home, and maybe then I’d feel like I’ve had enough rest. You’re letting this brown-eyed boy stay in the bed with us, and I will always be grateful for it. All night I am aware of him, when he needs to eat, when I should hold him closer. Last night he drank and drank me empty, and I was awake the whole time, and his arm would go up in the air and gently run along on my shoulder to my elbow. I lay awake and relish, and by morning I ache all over.

I realize, I do, that you used to be fed in more ways, used to be held closer, close enough to run your hand along my arm. The longer we’re married, the more perspective I have on phases, how there’s another side to this.

You wake at 5:15 every morning to sit in the quiet, to read and write. Our quiet moments, when all we hear is the cup hit the coaster, those are ours. Then you shave and iron, and you put on your heavy shoes and go where men speak in roman numerals, where what you do is put on the scales. Entire accounts with egos and files and homes and families are in your care. You know how to smile and tell people that everything they’ve said is wrong. In fact, often it’s your job to find the things that are wrong. A judge slams down the gavel, worlds on your shoulders.

Not even a hair of me has ever even thought a millisecond about going to law school. Sometimes when we argue, you outline your points: A, B, C. You have a lawyer face that’s hard to take off before getting home. We’re certainly a match. I give you a run for your money.

We’re still learning, but we know to not to make comparisons about whose job is harder. Every single time we both lose. My job is harder than yours, and I know it. You believe the same about yours. We both feel the weight of 4 souls. I know you feel the weight 5. I also know that when I leave for three hours to buy groceries that your eyes are way more googly when I get home. My eyes would roll right out of my head if I tried your load. So we leave it at that.

Thanks for being okay that I don’t wear makeup every day and keep the crockpot hot. Thanks for being the kind of man that makes us happy to see him. Thanks for being happy to see us.

I do love your arms.




Please do join Seth, Joy, Scott, and me as we hold our marriages up to the light. Call your marriage what it really is. Every Monday we’re writing letters because we believe that when we bless our own marriage, we bless the marriages of others. When you go hard after your marriage, I’m encouraged to go after mine. Thank you for joining us. Next week we’ll write on “I Know You Love Me When.”


  1. Thank you for this line: “Thanks for being okay that I don’t wear makeup every day and keep the crockpot hot.” Nearly 3 years later (this upcoming July), I have trouble being “allowed” to say yes and keeping or even trying to warm the crockpot.
    Also, I *REALLY* wish you and Seth would write a marriage book. I’d much rather read something by you both than Mark Driscoll and his wife (which I refuse to read).
    Although we only know of each other through a computer screen, I consider you my internet sister (when you were pregnant with Titus, I exclaimed to my husband about it and then had to explain who I was talking about–he was so confused–so I just referred to you as my internet sister and about our love for that Kerouac quote . Thanks for being the big sister that I never had. <3
    PS–Thank you for making me feel less alone in this world. :)
    Sorry, PPS–Got any good books you'd recommend (like the beats, Dorothy Parker, Sylvia Plath, etc, I'm pretty much into anything, EXCEPT trashy romance novels that have Fabio wannabes on the cover *hehe*)

    • Um, sorry if that sounded creepy or stalker-like. I really didn’t mean it to. I’m a book worm and back when I was looking for Kerouac pictures, I somehow ended up here and have been hooked ever since. :)


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