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This was my reality now. Two kids. A house in the suburbs. And a confusing, chaotic woman whom I argued with daily. I almost laughed when I realized that was how the majority of people would describe marriage after ten years.
These kids represented life. A life that might be messy, and sad, but it was joyful too.
Everything that had seemed normal—even achievable—at one point, and now, I wanted the mess. I wanted the chaos. I wanted ketchup on my shirt because it meant that I’d been enjoying a meal with Ben or Viera. I wanted the sleepless nights because they meant I was comforting them. I wanted the crazy. Not the easy.
she’s my perfect match like that stupid MTV show,
“Can, I watch, PAW Patrol? Pweeeeease!”
Elias af
Having a family was fucking terrifying, like giving up your heart every day and watching it walk out the door without protection. Add a girl you loved on top of two kids and I suddenly realized why so many parents were a hot mess.
