As we sat eating French bread and cheese, Jim said to me, "There are three things you need to know about me. I will never own a house. I will never have children. I want children. I want a house. I don't want to waste my time with a man who is commitment phobic.
Inexplicably, at that moment, Jim decided he was going to marry me, and he has never waivered in his commitment. March 1 we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary and not once has he told me he wanted out. Not so for me. The next time I wanted to divorce Jim our triplets were 2 years old.
We got married a mere four months after we started dating. We soon bought a house, adopted a dog and settled into the making babies regime. But my hormones didn't fire correctly, and Jim's swimmers were just too mellow. In stepped the fertility doctor and out crawled triplets. Marital stress is difficult enough with any young children, but triplet toddlers are like balls of mercury rolling on a glass table. Between diaper changes, baby food thrown on the walls, mountains of laundry and lack of sleep, we felt exhausted.
When I'm tired, I get controlling and grouchy. Jim withdraws. At the time, I found myself angrily masterminding our lives while he sat silently on the sidelines.
That couldn't last. My anger, one day, exploded and I cursed at my husband for the first - and only - time. While Jim never considered divorce, I needed a new paradigm, and it came with this understanding: We learned that Jim is the navigator, and I am the mastermind. I dream and he plans how to make the dream work.
