Life is a Roller Coaster. Arms & Legs In At All Times.

Before I got married– back when I knew everything– I had a list of requirements for my prospective husbandiero. Here's what I thought I needed to be happy:

1. He was not going to be from the Intermountain area. I had grown up in the Air Force. Seen the World. This wasn't it. (Forgive me)
2. I was going to be at LEAST 26 years old.
3. We were going to know each other for a MINIMUM of 2 years before we thought about engagement.
4. He was going to be done with school.
5. We were going to spend the requisite 2 years as impoverished newlyweds and then we would be rich.

Here's how it panned out:

1. My husband was born and raised in Idaho. Where they have potatoes. And snow. Lots of it. And the occasional cow.
2. I was 21.75 when we got married. Turned 22 two months later.
3. We were engaged 4 months after we met and married 4 months after that. I KNOW. DON'T EVEN LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT. Just think of it as an arranged marriage. People have done that all through history and it has often worked. Anyway I did a background check. He was not an ax murderer. Most likely.
4. My hub finished his Bachelors and went on to a combined Masters/Doctoral program in Finance. Not even close to done with school when we married.
5. BAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *sniff* We totally did this backwards. I got a great job at WordPerfect Corporation and held it for 8 years, during which time we were paid very well. We floated on good income for about another year, and then it all tanked. Up and down. Laid off, laid on. Finally laid off for a year, and then got a good solid job at far less than we had been making. Now struggling but doing fine. BUT NOT RICH, A'IGHT?

Moral to the story? Wait. Here's another story:

Before I had children I knew everything there was to know about raising them. Knew what mistakes I was not going to repeat. Had the perfect-mother image pasted on the inside of my eyeballs. And I knew exactly how lovingly my offspring were going to gaze upon me as I tucked them in at night and how they would tell God in their prayers that he totally rocked because he gave me to them.

Uh huh.

The last time I knew everything about raising kids was, as they say, the day before I gave birth to my first. After that it was a total crap-shoot. A decades long swirling vortex of sleeplessness, vomit, diapers, dishes, owies, antibiotics, time-outs, potty-treats, job-charts, be-nice-to-your-brother charts, calloused knees from hitting the ground and asking God "Wha? I mean seriously, WHA?" 

Someone should have checked with me before coming up with How Things Are In LIfe. Marriage on Planet Janiel would have been, well, basically Pride and Prejudice. After they figured out they liked each other.  And it would have stayed that way forever. Complete with loving gazes, him listening raptly to me as I talked about how the children angelically brought me flowers and obeyed the job chart with twinkling eyes, me packing little gourmet meals for him as he ran off to slay dragons, us laughing and never having a misunderstanding.  And having children? Well, gestation would take two weeks, at which time the child would osmosis itself out of me, go off to college and bring home spouses and grandkids the next Christmas. Also, instead of afterbirth women would deliver a handbook specific to each child.

But no one asked me.

I suppose it is better the way it is. We drive each other crazy, but we stick it out and learn a ton. Because ultimately we like each other, my husband, me, and our kids. Even love each other. And it's worth plowing through our individual whackadoo-ness just to see what's on the other side. What I'm finding is that it's usually something pretty good. Something I didn't quite see correctly before I got on the roller coaster. Something I even completely misunderstood. But if I had jumped out of the ride early, not only would I have completely missed the "ahhhhh, I see" once it was over, but I wouldn't have any memories of the totally awesome downhill rushes that followed all the uphill climbs. Not to mention, I'd probably be dead.

Right. So, forget about requirements. I don't know anything. Except this: Sometimes it really is best to keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times so you can get to the end in one piece. That's when the relief and the joy usually comes.

Yeah. We're so stinkin' cute I can't stand it.