Why I Talk to My Husband

There’s some really hard stuff about marriage (that—gasp!—doesn’t involve our children) that we need to talk about, and it’s not what you think.

The hard stuff I’m talking about happens between the passionate love-making and the drawn-out, ego-fueled fights. The hard stuff isn’t about your baby’s poop color. Or your stressful job. It isn’t even about how to deal with your often flaky friends.

The hard stuff is about YOU.

We avoid the hard stuff like the plague and instead talk about those other things. Why? It’s easier.

Yep, you read that correctly: It’s easier to fight and love with all your might than it is to share the little stuff. You know, those small bits of happiness throughout the day. Fleeting moments of anxiety or fear. The rush you were in to get all the kids to their respective after-school activities. The fact that you never actually ate lunch (or breakfast, for that matter). The intensity of the meeting you sat through because numbers are a little low this quarter. That’s the stuff that gets tucked away, beneath the heavy. Because when you are in the middle of the child-rearing, dream-building, marriage-stabilizing stage of life, there isn’t much time for the little stuff. But, the problem is, the little stuff is the glue of your relationship. Without glue, you just have a bunch of pieces.  

Yesterday, I was out running errands. Alone. No children, no stupid Raffi song about digging in a garden blaring out of my speakers. Just Snoop Dog and I rapping at the top of our my lungs, the dry-cleaning, and a Yeti tumbler full of La Croix. It was glorious. I felt peaceful and full of joy. It was one of those fleeting moments that I became aware that I felt happy, perhaps even made a quick mental note, but that was it. It quickly became just another moment in my crazy day, unnecessary to talk about seven hours later at the dinner table. But, here’s the thing: I love me time in the car with music. I freaking love it. If I had to make a list of things that make me happy, it easily makes the top 10.

But, sharing that moment during family dinnertime is not the norm. Probably for most of us. It seems awkward to even revisit. “Hey honey, I know you’re currently getting spaghetti thrown at your head by an unruly three-year-old, but listen to me talk about how incredible my car ride was this morning.” It’s just not going to happen. Instead, we cut up food, intercept child demands, and rush to get that bath in before bedtime. That’s the stage we’re in, and that’s OK. But, the glaring problem is that if that were the only time I made for my husband and me to talk, he would never get to hear about my tiny happies, nor I his. And that would be a shame because that is a special “me” thread woven into a very busy day.

This is exactly why it’s hard to talk about. It’s just a thread, and the assumed “more important” threads are the ones that get attention. I’m not suggesting you try and talk over tiny humans at dinner as much as I am advocating for making the time to talk at some point. This is where the work begins. This is the part where the marriage gets harder and stronger. Creating that time is FREAKING HARD. Yep, I said creating, not finding, because I promise it’s not just sitting there waiting for you to find it.

How many of us have shared with our partner these silly little tidbits of who we are right now?

• Current favorite song on the radio
• Best meal eaten this week
• Most dreaded part of the upcoming week
• How you are sleeping at night
• Something on Keeping Up with the Kardashians the local news that bothered you and why
• A total parenting “win” for the day

I assume that some of you have and most of you have not. Why? Bigger fish to fry. Gotta get on (or back on, in my case) a budget. Gotta figure out the after-school homework schedule. Who’s taking the kids to baseball practice? Those topics are necessary, but they don’t connect us.

How do these small topics connect us? They reveal the real us. Who are you? What do you love? For me, it’s decorating for fall. Finding a favorite wine on sale. Football season. I have to make a point to offer up some of these things to my husband regularly so I don’t fall into the child topic trap. I make a point to tell him about my day before the kids’ day, and it goes a little something like this: “Hi baby, welcome home! GUESS WHAT? I got some quiet time in this morning! Eeek! And I got a pumpkin spice latte for the first time this season, and they made it so perfectly. Ahhhh, it was bliss. Oh, and I dropped off the dry cleaning…finally.” So, I share this moment with him. How does my over-excitement about overpriced coffee prove to connect us? On Saturdays, he’ll run to Starbucks to get me a latte just because he knows how happy it makes me. Boom! Connection. I’m sharing; he’s listening.

Here’s the tricky part: What if you or your partner isn’t the best at sharing? Well, you have to work harder. But, if you’re reading this, now you know—and knowing is half the battle. You might have to be in charge of asking the questions. Model the behavior/communication you want in your marriage. Don’t ask, “How was your day?” but instead, “What was the happiest part of your day?” (or the most stressful, the most rewarding, etc.). Ask questions that you actually want to know the answer to. That’s just a lesson in being real. And being real is, quite frankly, the best gift we can give to ourselves AND our relationship.

Also, I talk to my husband because I want to. Genuinely, I love talking to him because it’s mutual. I’m not talking at him (most of the time); it’s an actual conversation. We chose to get married eight years ago, and I want to be married another million. So, I make time to share the me he fell in love with, not just the mom me. He didn’t even know the mom me when we got married—I had other parts. It’s difficult to remember that about our partners sometimes, but it matters to our marriage. So we talk. A lot. About Snoop, instead of baby poop. It’s an obvious choice.