Dear Mr. Husband, I apologize. I’m sorry you’ve been ignored for the past four and a half years. I apologize for putting your needs second. I assure you that you are still one of my top priorities; you are simply no longer at the top of the list. I know you have wants, needs, dreams, and desires. I mean it when I say I want to be the one you lean on. I know you’re sick of my excuses about being tired, having a headache, or snoring when you cuddle up next to me.
I wish I had the energy I did five years ago. I wish I had half the energy I did two weeks ago when I washed, folded, and put away all ten loads of laundry. Of course, you didn’t notice because I was allowing you to get some much-needed rest. I know that some days it feels like we’re in business together. And you are correct. Some days, even weeks, are like this. Know that I want the best for our marriage and ourselves. Because we’re damn good together.
My life, my brain, and my body are all consumed by being a mother to those little boys who look exactly like you. My brain is still in mother mode even after they’ve fallen asleep and we’re sitting on the couch watching a movie. I’m thinking about tomorrow, about ten years from now. I’m curious if you have any work clothes for tomorrow. Money, milestones, and milk are all on my mind. Is there enough milk? I can’t stop being a mother.
It’s who I’ve become. It’s also physically, emotionally, and mentally draining. I don’t want you to believe you’re no longer as important as you once were. I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to live this life without you. But the fact is, you’re an adult, and you can take care of yourself. You have the ability to vote, which allows you to prepare your own lunch. You are legally permitted to drive, so you can figure out how to get to a doctor’s appointment.
Unfortunately, when you get home from work, you get the worst version of me. I gave our children the best that I could. A little secret: there isn’t always the best version of myself. There simply isn’t. I can’t be concerned about your health, the boys’ health, the health of the pet, or my own health. Who do you believe is overlooked? It’s not your fault. It isn’t our children or pets. When I say I’m not feeling well or haven’t been sleeping, it’s because I haven’t been taking care of myself.
Yes, you tell me to go to the doctor, eat healthier, and drink more water, but I am my absolute last priority. I’m not complaining because I know I need to change. I’m attempting to explain that when something has to give because no one person can do everything, I am the thing that gives. I’m concerned about your sleep apnea, allergies, and knee spasms. I’m concerned about Alex’s rash and Ben’s sudden onset of a snotty nose.
I’m worried about our dog’s ears and how much it will cost to take her to the vet. While I’m thinking about it, I’m concerned that the fish’s tank has too much algae and that the water needs to be changed. I’ll just add that to the never-ending list of things I’ll be sorry about when I try to sleep tonight. It’s not your fault. I’m not blaming you or wishing you were otherwise. You go above and beyond for our family.
You put in more effort than anyone I know. You care about everyone, including me, more than any other person I’ve ever met. I love you a little more each time I see you help someone despite the fact that you will never receive anything in return. You are the most loving and kind father to our children. When you leave for work, they cry for a reason. Yes, it hurts a little, but knowing you are their life role model fills me with love and pride.
I am not the same person you married eleven years ago. I’ve changed and evolved into a wife, mother, friend, and schedule keeper. I work as a personal shopper and a party planner. I work as a chef and specialize in chicken nuggets and pasta. I’m a housekeeper who can’t keep a house clean. I’m the librarian and the cheerleader. I am both the night and day nurse.
I wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t want to live any other life. I adore you and the life we’ve built together. But I’m not the wild, beer-drinking, sexy bad girl you met a long time ago. I have a child. And it is entirely my fault. Always with love, Your Spouse.