The Truth About “Happily Ever After”

The Truth About “Happily Ever After”

Barely 9 p.m. and my husband and I were sprawled across the bed as if we’d been shot.

“I don’t even know what day it is,” he said.

“It’s Satur—” I paused. “No, wait . . . it’s Friday.”

“I’ll just be glad when everyone’s healthy again.”

“I know.” I sighed. “Not only are we trying to get a newborn up and running, we’re trying to keep everyone else alive, too.”

The past two weeks had been for the books. Or at least for the blog.

On the way home from Wisconsin, I noticed the skin beneath our five-year-old’s eyes was dark. Later, a light rash spread across her chest. She’d had poison ivy/oak/sumac for two weeks, and I thought the rash was part of that until she began running a fever.

Turns out, she had strep. So, for the first time in her five years, we put her on amoxicillin. I am allergic to every branch of the penicillin family tree, but thought she might not take after me.

(Ominous foreshadowing here.)

Our two-year-old caught strep as well and began running a fever.

Our gassy newborn decided she did not like for her mother to consume onions, garlic, beans, tomatoes, corn, lentils, chocolate, coffee, and every dairy product under the sun.

So, I gave it up, cold turkey, right after purchasing two pints of Halo Top ice-cream that were on sale (you’re welcome, children). That afternoon, I noticed our five-year-old’s neck and chest were covered in hives.

I texted the doctor and asked if this was normal. It was, of course, not.

Into this fray, my husband walked while brandishing a card. “Here,” he said. “We need to write something to Heidi and Jacob.”

It was a wedding card. On the front was a rustic wooden sign with the words “May You Live Happily Ever After.”

In that moment, damp patches of projectile spit-up on my legs; the counter top lined with homeopathic tonics, which were gathering fruit flies; the floor strewn with mardi gras beads and baby dolls; my five-year-old taking a luxurious baking soda/oatmeal bath to help soothe her hives (I thought about trading places with her), I felt so removed from that September bride who’d received such similar impossible wishes of “May You Live Happily Ever After.”

The truth of the matter is: Life’s not always happy.

Children get sick, have allergic reactions, decide they are thirsty for milk at nap time then refuse to take a sip until you walk out the door; your husband tells you he can smell the entire garlic clove you consumed before bedtime (a natural antibiotic), and on a rare date night, refuses to go hiking in 90 degree weather with a humidity index of 500.89% just because you need to experience some “awe.”

But then, on that same date night, you find yourself flirting with your husband while helping him pick out t-shirts to replace the ones he’s worn for the past five years. The next morning, your family holds hands around the breakfast table, prays, and then eats blueberry pancakes with Wisconsin maple syrup. That afternoon, you find yourself meeting that husband’s gaze as your five-year-old tries on her kindergarten uniform for the first time (those hives still covering her coltish legs; those legs that, just yesterday, took their first steps), and you know you are each about one second from crying.

And then, that night, you find yourselves sprawled side by side in bed, belly-laughing about a toddler who explained (with great detail) that there were flamingos in the garden, and another child who explained (also with great detail; they take after their father) that her “water pump” was broken, but she’s better now.

And, taken all together, you find that life might not always be “Happily Ever After.” But life, it is still good.

Spread the cheer. Take a moment to share how your life is “good” today.