Ambergontrail – Trying to get through life without dying of dysentery

The other day, Yahoo! news had an article stating that kids curb marital satisfaction. Then it went on to say, of course, if you lived together pre-marriage, it’s even harder, but if you make a lot of money, it’s easier. I can say honestly that these articles really turn my stomach. How many people out there, while in their currently happy marriages will read that article and say, “Well, that’s good to know! Thanks, Yahoo!” I’m sure more people will read it, file it away until the time to bear children comes along, then… when they begin to hit a wall in their marriage- sleep deprived and lonely for adult companionship, they’ll remember that article and think that they should have known this was coming, “Yahoo! warned me this would happen.” Therefore, they won’t take steps to change the mood of their relationships, they’ll just think that it happens and that’s that.

At this point in my life, I don’t want to read some piece of crap some asshole has written spouting off facts. This article is the reason marriage isn’t held in such high regard. Apparently, you’re screwed, all marriages are going to be miserable- especially if you a.) lived together before b.) had parents who fight and c.) have children. While it may be fact, who do you think you’re helping by spreading this information?

Yes, I lived with the husband before marriage, and yes, my parents fought a lot, so did his. No, we don’t make a lot of money. Does this mean I’m doomed to have an utterly horrible marriage with kids I resent? No, it just means some things will need to be worked on. Did I know that before reading that piece of crap article? Yes, yes I did. In fact… I may have known that BEFORE I actually got married!

We lived together before marriage because we loved each other and knew exactly where this relationship was  heading. Heck, we knew before we even moved in together. I couldn’t be happier we did, as I would never want to move in right after marriage, I can’t imagine the shock of getting married and then all of a sudden having to get used to sharing a bed, cleaning up his socks, having to put away your hairbrush every morning.

So my parents fought, this means I’m going to have a shitty marriage? Shouldn’t this mean that I would work HARDER to avoid having that same marriage I witnessed? For my whole life, I’ve used my parents as an example for what NOT to do when I get married, the same with the husband and his parents. It’s like being an alcoholic’s child, you see what to stay away from, and what to fight against. Easy as that.

Yes, children make marriage harder. So do eight week old puppies and people losing their jobs (not to belittle parents), families that don’t get along and neighbors that drive you crazy. I have a tip for you: MARRIAGE IS NOT EASY. Sometimes LOVE isn’t easy. Still, you made that promise to love and cherish, to be with that person forever. Just as with any good skill or hobby, marriage takes practice. Although love usually comes easily, the Beatles weren’t completely right- love isn’t all you need. No, you need a supportive spouse, a family that loves you, trust and honor, dedication and strength, you need to know that a marriage isn’t made up with just two people in love, it’s about working for what you want, a happy marriage, children that you will love beyond belief, and sometimes, just sometimes, marriage becomes so easy that you’ll forget you guys were ever NOT married.

Yes, things will get harder when you have children, but you’ll have so much more to be thankful for, and as long as you’ve got support and strength from all who surround you- you’re good to go.

It seems we have a stealth pooper in our midst. Yes folks, our new apartment has a handy little dirt patch right beside our patio, which also happens to be next to the stairs. Quite a lovely little plot of land, this dirt patch features a dead stick that I believe used to be a bush of some sort, a foul wet spot of urine (not ours, I can promise you) and a scattering of cat feces, both young and old. Ah, it’s a delightful scent, that of cat pee. The bouquet of ammonia and uric acid comes wafting your way as you enter our building, and each time I smell it, I’m filled with a tiny bit more of something… what is it? Ah yes, hatred. Good old hatred for the neighbor who lets her cat out to do its business in the dirt patch I so lovingly did nothing to.

How do we know it’s her cat? A few reasons, my friends. Exhibit A: a cat with jingling tags constantly prowls our walkway, suspiciously close to the neighbor across from us.  Exhibit B: We’ve seen her open her door to let said cat out (with the jingle-jangly tags), yet when she sees us leaving our apartment at the same time,  closes her door quickly without letting Puddles the Pooper out. Exhibit C: on one occasion, I had to run out to give the husband something, he was waiting in the car. Like your average distracted pet owner, I left the door open a crack. When I returned, Woofie had crept outside and was stalking Puddles the Pooper who was at that moment sniffing his previous work in our dirt patch,  when contact had been made, the cat leapt up in that magical way cats have, and flew over the neighbor’s patio wall. Now, if that kitty wasn’t hers, wouldn’t it have careened down the pathway to someplace not as close?

It’s tough because the smell and the sight is so displeasing. It’s embarrassing to bring friends over, and the first sight they see is a pile of cat poop. I’m not going to pick it up, it’s not MY cat, know what I mean? When we take Woofie out, we clean up after him. It’s the duty of having pets- you pick up after them!

As with that mess, we’re also dealing with an upstairs neighbor who has what I believe to be a taboo washer and dryer! Honestly, it’s to NO interest of mine (other than, “Heeey, I want one!”) what she has in her apartment, but when the washer/dryer is up against a corner in one of her bedrooms, it’s reverberating all throughout our bedroom! The walls literally vibrate for the 45 minutes the clothes are washing. Ah, it’s so fun getting used to a new place.