Two Childhoods Combined

“We argue more than we used to.” I said, confused and defeated.

“No offense, but you guys did get married pretty fast? Do you think that may have something to do with it?”
Staring at my pretty blonde friend with distain. I digest that truth bomb.

Alas, that’s really not it. It was always him. It was always going to be him. It still is him. Whether we got married after one year or twenty years. It was going to happen. I mean when we met it was practically….. blue eyed boy meets a brown eyed girl.. oh oh ohhhhh the sweetest thing.… playing in the background.
How do I know this? How do I know I married the “right person”? Well, he looks at me across a room the way every girl wants to be looked at. Even when he hates me, he loves me. Can you really ask for anything else?

Dating is easy. It’s all vacationing up the coast of Maine, pulling lobster pots, drinking beers out on a beach. If you can do anything for your relationship. I highly recommend living in a one bed room apartment that is way below your budget. You have so much more money to do fun crap. Ride bicycles to beach bars and stop on the way home to sit in the sand and look at the stars. Why are you in a rush to buy a house? Do you know how fun it is to go on vacation? I’m not saying live like this forever, but at least for a little bit.

Eventually though your life evolves and moves forward and that is pretty damn awesome too! You make a home with that guy and it is the first place that has felt like home in a very, very long time. You will never be able to put into words how grateful you are for him. That he gave you a home, when you had been little girl lost for oh so long.
Now when you procreate you get to know your partner on a whole new level. True colors show when there really isn’t enough time for every one all the time. It is impossible to know your spouse like this before you have children, because you just can’t conjure up the situations you find your self in as a parent. Why? Oh because, their childhood starts to show up and clash with yours. You came from different places, but now you are trying to unite and create a new family, together. There will surely be bumps in the road! Get a helmet!
No, I guess while we were vacationing in St. Marteen I forgot to ask, “Do you have some deep seeded ideas that because you make a lot more money than I do, that your help with household work should be optional? Help when you can. If you miss a week. So be it. Oh and when you do consistently help for a week, is it required that I strap on my tuba and give a parade in your honor?

Whoops. Did I say that out loud?

Now don’t misunderstand, my husband is a great guy. I don’t think you could really find any one to tell you otherwise. He is a loyal friend. Hard worker. Generous. Hilarious, but you only get to see that side of him if he lets you in. I came into his life like the tasmanian devil and broke down all his walls. So he is regularly hilarious to me. But he does not crave attention, nor does he mind if other people have the spotlight. He knows more about the outdoors then you could ever dream of. He can build anything, literally anything. He never forgets to mow the lawn. He is handsome as shit.

I know what you are thinking! That guy sounds is great!! Why you hating on him Britt? Well, I’ll tell you why!

Because it’s not him. It’s figuring out “us.” Learning how to function as a family is hard. How to distinguish roles. How to figure out how we work. Who does what. How to communicate to keep this ship a float. There are bound to be mess ups and changes and shenanigans.

Does it make sense that he thinks women should feed every one all the time? That’s just part of the female job description to him. Of course it does, he has had Italian women cooking him up delicious food and handing it to him at his request his whole life. Why would he think otherwise? I mean that sounds glorious to me.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. How the only picture I have of a family is my family growing up. The only picture the husband has is his family growing up. I think our families share a lot of the same interests and values. Yet, no matter what two families are joining, they are bound to be quite different.

I’ll explain.

Lets put me and my sugar daddy down on paper.

HUSBAND background check:




6 Years Older than me

Parents together since high school

Oldest sibling

Stay at home Mom. 2 boys 2 years apart. Does every thing for every one all the time. Especially feeding every one.

Dad worked his ass off for his family. At different points it would be 6 days a week plus sanding at night in the Winter.

Same house entire childhood.

We live in his hometown. Ten minutes for his entire immediate family.



WIFE background check:



Parents together since high school until divorce when I was 18. Would rather eat a turd then speak to one another.

Middle Child

Mom worked nights 11PM-7AM at the hospital. 4 kids in 5 years. Had a 3 and 4 year old girls and wanted to have one more baby and got twins. Boy and Girl. Named the twins Mark and Luke. Luke as a girls name? How edgy for 1990.

Dad put all 4 of us to bed at night by himself. Coached almost every sports team I played on. Worked for himself his whole life so that he never missed a game.

Same household for entire adolescents. Then I went away to college my freshman year and when I was away that Fall they were like, Yaaa… we are getting divorced and selling the house. Sorry. Oh please don’t misconstrue, some people are meant to get divorced. My sister and I were pretty sure one of them was going to kill the other. But alas, the timing was poor.

Live 2+ hours from all my family. Love where I live. But miss them always.




So we are a paradox. We are both the same and yet completely different.


We are not defined by our upbringing but we are definitely the product of it. It’s the only picture we have of how a family is supposed to run. Whether we realize it or not.

Now we are a NEW team. We are neither of our childhood families. We have to figure out how to create a unit of our very own. Save happy traditions. Work on how we communicate and make life happen. ┬áIt’s pretty awesome, but definitely a work in progress. Always.

Hard? Sure.


Worth it? Oh yes.




I saw that you were perfect and so I loved you.

Then I saw that you were not perfect and I loved you even more.


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