It’s hard fucking work sharing a life with someone. and then you decide to have children and suddenly it’s a little fucking harder. and then you move away from the very few people you’re closest to and become a stay-at-home mom and housewife where the only people you get to talk to all day long shit their pants and your whole entire day consists of keeping tiny people happy and entertained. and then you have to make sure the laundry is done and then cook dinner so your husband doesn’t starve and you start to slowly go insane. seriously, guys, this is what your future holds. you’ve been warned.
anyways, I’m bitching about marriage today not motherhood. we will save that for tomorrow. and the next day….
the husband and I just celebrated our six year wedding anniversary. and by celebrated I mean, he got home at 8pm after leaving work and running to the store to buy himself a new grill, then he cooked some food and went to bed approximately at 10pm. oh, the romance….
being married for six years is a long fucking time for someone who is getting ready to turn 25. you shouldn’t even be allowed to get married until you’re like 30. seriously. my marriage is fine & dandy compared to most though. I married my best friend. one of my high school sweethearts. yada yada yada…. but it’s boring as fuck. I hate boring. and lately, I’ve been having a pre-midlife crisis, if that’s even a thing.
I don’t talk to anyone about my personal life really. I’ll say a few things to my mom here and there but I’m careful. always careful. I don’t like to feel vulnerable whatsoever (which is actually a problem in my marriage according to my husband) so I don’t talk to people about personal things but since I started this blog as a diary and a place to open my mind, I’m going to tell anyone who’s reading this, I guess.
I’m kind of finicky. so one minute I think leaving my husband would be for the best and the next I’m saying I want a third fucking baby. who does that?! psychos, that’s who. we seem to have grown apart though, as most everyone does. it’s just life. I want totally different things than I used to want. I mean, total 360 degree kind of different. the husband always says he wants what I want but I have a problem with that because he lacks passion. about anything. I want to spend my life traveling and learning new things, new cultures and he is just so content with exactly where he is right now and it’s not exactly a bad place to be at. we have a nice home, nice cars, two kids, money to spend, etc. but money isn’t everything. and it’s nothing at all if you lack passion.
I keep telling myself I’m just stuck in a rut with myself, which is true, I am. I need something that is mine that I don’t have to share. something I can do for myself. I feel like I have nothing outside of being a mother and a wife. Who am I other than that? it’s a damn good question that I have no fucking answer to. that’s another reason I’m starting fresh on my 25th birthday. I’ve got to figure myself out. I’ve just really never got to be my own person. I never went off to college because my dream job wasn’t realistic at the time and then suddenly it became realistic a few years later when I would have been almost done with college so that’s been slightly tough to accept. I know it’s never too late and all that but right now, it’s not realistic. I have two very small children to raise so maybe one day after they’re grown, I’ll get to take that path. until then, school is out of the question…. So where’s that leave me? and that, my friends, is where I’m stuck….
I want to travel. It’s what I’m most passionate about. So I’m thinking that’s probably a good place to start. My grandparents live in Arizona and I’m going to roadtrip with my two kiddos out there and explore that side of the country and see where life takes me, I guess. My husband will just have to understand because I need to do this for myself. I feel like I’m just wasting life by sitting around doing the same freaking thing over and over and over again.
Wake up. Make a cup of coffee. Make another cup of coffee. Read. Take kids to park. Make lunch. Go on a walk. Take kids back to park. Make dinner. Do laundry. Give baths. Try to get kids to go the fuck to sleep. Read. Sleep. Repeat…..
that is literally my schedule every. single. day.
I need some spontaneity. I’m so sick of being boring. I’m sick of my husband being boring. I can’t spend my life with someone who only talks about food or sports or work and acts like a giant toddler. all men seriously can’t be this way. I do not want my sons to be this way. I want them to love to travel. To try new things, new foods. to not base everything on money. to have some fucking passion. and to not get married until they’ve discovered themselves because then you can’t be selfish and twenties should be about being selfish.