wife

The Real American Dream

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As a child, I would read or watch the most amazing stories. To be able to clap your hands and create anything as long as you knew and possessed their chemical compositions, to travel across the land fighting off the dead, to be the world’s first female knight.

All of these stories inspired me, and they told me that as long as I held my ground and worked hard, I could achieve anything. In real life, they tell you the same thing. The American dream, anyone can work their way to the top. They just neglect to say what it will cost you.

Erik was asleep when I got home in the early morning. All I wanted to do was collapse, but I hadn’t had the chance to eat anything all night. I rummaged through the fridge, trying to find something quick to eat, maybe some Mac and cheese? No, that would take too long. The kids would be up in less than an hour.

I sighed and resigned myself to getting as much sleep as I could before the kids woke up.

I climbed over the baby gate, tripping over the edge for the second time that day, and climbed into bed, not even bothering to undress.

Erik was snoring peacefully, and though I knew I shouldn’t, I snuggled into him. Burying my face deep into his chest. He was warm, so wonderfly warm. I hadn’t gotten to spend time with him in weeks, so those times were precious.

I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of Irish springs body wash and closed my eyes, trying to go to sleep. Now that I had finally stopped moving, my feet began to announce their complaints at the days abuse, sending painful throbs up my calves. I closed my eyes tighter, trying to ignore it, but the ache only intensified.

I checked the time on my phone, thirty minutes until my alarm went off. “Please,” I whispered to no one in particular, “I just need a little sleep. Just a bit.”

As soon as my conscious started to fade, Erik’s alarm went off, and the cooing of playfull babies filtered in. “Erik, is there anyway you can go in just a few hours late? I got back late from work again and haven’t slept at all. I just need an hour or two.”

“I’m sorry love, it’s Thursday. I have labs on Thursdays, and I can’t miss it.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot it’s Thursday.”

He got dressed and leaned over to give me a kiss goodbye. “I love you,” he said apologetically. 

“I love you too,” I replied, holding back tears. I knew it wasn’t his fault, we were doing what we needed to in order to survive and provide for the twins. But it didn’t make it any easier knowing that.

Hearing the twins babbling become louder, I slapped my cheeks and crawled out of bed. Opening the door to their room, I walked into a nightmare. They had figured out how to get their pajamas off and had discarded their diapers. Kaylee was on tip toes in her crib, Evan with his hands in a fresh diaper. Tiny, brown stained hands marking the walls, bed, and carpet.

“Oh, no, no, no!” I yelled, scooping up the twins. They were completely covered head to toe.

After cleaning them off in the bath, I grabbed all the cleaning supplies I could find and started scrubbing down their room. I wasn’t even half way done before Kaylee started screaming for Nom noms.

“Okay, okay. Let’s see if there is anything easy to make.” I would have killed for some simple cereal or oatmeal, but we were out. Even eggs seemed like too much an effort, but they would have to do.

I gave the twins their eggs and sat down on the couch across from them to eat mine. An hour later, I woke up. The twins were nowhere to be seen, and our eggs were scattered all across the floor. I had passed out.

I flung myself off the couch in a panicked flurry. The baby gate had been knocked down, I rushed past and down the hallway into our bathroom, calling their names.

I found the twins in a desert of kitty litter. An entire bag had been emptied onto the bathroom floor and into the toilet, the twins sopping wet and covered in a kitty litter mud from head to toe.

I didn’t care about any of it, I was just so glad they were okay. I scooped them both into my arms and held them tightly, sobbing loudly.

Evan took his tiny hand and swept away my tears, “No cry, Mommy.”

I let out a half laugh, half sob, and put my hand to his, forcing a smile. Right, I could do it for them. “Let’s get you guys cleaned up, Mommy’s bathroom isn’t a beach, you know!”

I gave the twins their second bath of the day, cleaned up the mess of eggs, finished cleaning the twins’ room, fed the twins lunch, and finally cleaned up the kids’ homemade beach.

By the time I was done, Erik was getting home, and it was already time to go to work. Time for it to start all over again.

I gave Erik a big hug hi, and bye, and left. Just ten more hours, I would finally get at least two hours of sleep, I thought. And just nine more years, and it’s all over.

This is the story of the American dream that nearly killed me.

I am a warrior.

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I was in the sixth grade when my parents took me and my brother to a school fair. Our school always put on impressive fairs, lots of games, dunking the teachers, and I almost always came home with a new pet fish only to have it die a few days later.

That year, they had brought in a new attraction. A gladiator jousting inflatable arena. Two people would enter and climb onto their own pedestals. Each would get a long stick and fight to knock each other off their pedestal.

I rushed to get in line. Looking around, I could see a lot of high-school students in the crowd. I felt a bit nervous thinking I would have to fight people twice my age. I was always the strongest in my class. I won every arm wrestling competition, playing mercy, or race. Sometimes, I would play with a stick in the backyard for hours, swinging the stick like a sword. But to beat a high-school student in a competition like that? It was going to be hard.

It was my turn now, I entered the baloon like arena to face the previous winner, a twelve year old freckle-faced boy. “Okay, I got this,” I thought and placed my feet shoulder width apart, ready for the go-ahead.

“Go!,” the ref shouted.

I thrust my stick forward, aiming for the boys chest. He blocked me and jammed his stick back at me. Running my stick along the side of his, I did a quick spiral and twisted the stick from his grasp and pushed him from his perch. The crowd cheered, I had won.

My next opponent was a high-school student at least twice my size. He had broad shoulders and wore a black tank top with jeans. I squared my jaw and planted my feet firmly, ready for a hard fight.

He started aggressively, and I blocked each attack with equal force to prevent falling back. I was getting the timings of his hits down. Hit hit, hit. Hit hit, hit. Hit hit, now! I moved to the side of my pedestal, dodging his next blow and impeding his balance. I swept my stick from the side to finish the job.

The next five matches went more or less the same way. Soon, there was a crowd cheering me on. It was such a rush, the adrenaline, beating kids twice my age. I felt unstoppable. 

Until a five year old girl was lifted onto the stand. I played along with her, pretending like she was hitting me right in my weak spot. It was hard for her to even lift the huge stick, so I moved to the very front of my pedestal to make it easier to hit me.

Bam, “Oh no!” I yelled as I fell, “you got me!” The ref came and held her hand up in victory, and her face gleamed. This was a different kind of rush, a better one. She was so happy.

Making my way off the arena, I found Mom and my step-dad Bob waiting for me.

“You were incredible!” Bob yelled.

“There were kids in line that literally left because they didn’t want to fight you. High school kids!” Mom exclaimed.

I blushed, “I know, it was awesome!”

Driving home, I felt an absurd sense of pride, I was the strongest. I was a warrior.

In the hours after

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The slam of the door left a dull sound echoing as Erik stormed out. Kaylee’s cries seeming to carry it through the apartment. I held her, my poor little girl who could not possibly understand what was happening. Or why. I barely understood myself.

“Why would you make daddy leave,” Kaylee cried, “that is such a mean thing to do!”

“I know you don’t understand sweetheart. You might someday. For now…just know that Daddy did something to hurt Mommy. And Mommy just needs some time.”

“What did Daddy do to hurt you, Mommy?” Evan asked, crawling into my lap with Kaylee.

Erik hadn’t had the nerve to tell them what he had done. He had no conscience when it came to having an affair…but when it came to looking our children in the eye and telling them what he had done, he had not been able to stomach it and told them simply that he would tell them someday. But then again, I didn’t have the nerve to tell them either.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” I told them both. I probably never would. Destroying how one looks up to their parents was a concept I was all too familiar with. I didn’t want to be apart of that process for them.

We cuddled there for a while in a silent numbness. Eventually the kids, being resilient as children often are, got up and started to play. I laid there, huddled under my blanket. Trying to block everything with sleep, unsuccessfully. Instead, I watched them play. Silently crying, wondering if our family was about to break.

It wasn’t long before I needed to get up. Needed to move. So I cleaned everything in sight. I scrubbed the walls, cleaned the dishes, mopped the floors, picked up the kids room, until there was nothing else to clean. The only thing left to do was to unbox my new computer for the dream job I had been longing for since the kids were born. A job working from home, where I could be with my children and my husband. A job that was supposed to fix everything. But nothing was that simple. How could I start a new job in the morning with everything going on? How was I supposed to put on a smile and pretend to be a cheerful woman excited for a new adventure? I huffed at the boxes and decided to ignore them. Unboxing them would mean moving forward despite everything. I wasn’t ready for that.

I plopped back down onto the couch, but it wasn’t long before my thoughts started to over take me again. I needed to talk to someone. Anyone. But it was still early in the morning, which meant it was even earlier across the country where my family and friends were. I messaged my Mom and my friends anyways. Hoping someone was awake. I stared at the screen, my foot tapping impatiently. Nothing.

I fell back on the couch exasperated. Suddenly realizing just how alone I was here. It had been hard, moving here for Erik’s school. But before, at least I had him. Now, I had no one to turn to. No one to occupy my time with. No one to talk to. Erik, at least had his sister. I scorned him for bringing me here. For doing this to me when I had no where to escape to. When I had sacrificed everything; my home, my dreams, my family. Just for him to cast me aside when it had all finally become too much for me to endure. I wondered what excuse he possibly had to give. If any excuse he had could possibly be enough. I doubted it.

I slammed my fist into the pillow next to me. As if that could make me feel the least bit better. I couldn’t wait any longer. I stalked into my room and closed the door so the children couldn’t hear me before dialing my little brother Austin’s phone.

“Hello?” He answered, sounding as if he had stayed up all night playing video games again.

“Hey Austin, I am so sorry to wake you up this early…can you grab Mom? It’s important.”

“Yeah, one sec,” he mumbled, sounding somewhat annoyed.

After a few minutes of shuffling noises and static Mom answered. “Hey, what’s going on?” She asked.

“Hey, Mom,” violent sobs started to take over me the moment I heard her voice. I suddenly remembered all the times Mom had told me she thought Erik was just using me. Taking advantage of me. And now, despite always telling her she was wrong, I was about to prove she had been right all along. I hated that almost as much as what Erik had done. “Erik’s been having an affair,” I choked.

“What?!” she yelled. She sounded genuinely surprised. I had half expected an ‘I told you so.’

“How do you know?” she asked.

I told her everything, how I had seen the Just for Us page up on his phone. How I had recognized it was discord, then found the channel on his lap top. How they spoke of loving each other, how Erik had consoled her and told her they would get through this. I was blubbering through snot and tears by this point. I felt like a child running to their mother after getting a scraped knee. No amount of kissing boo boo’s and band aids would help this though.

When I was finished recanting the mornings events, Mom went quite for a moment before stating “you’re coming home.”

For some reason, it wasn’t until that moment that I truly realized the implications of exactly what was happening. Was my marriage really ending? Was I going to have to move back home in shame? Was I going to have to raise my children by myself, without them ever truly understanding why we had run far away from their father? Would they resent me? Were these past six years of toture for nothing? How would this affect them…?

“I can’t Mom, he’s their Dad” was all I could say. I felt as the figurative key turned, locking me into the cage that was now my life, and again I cried.

The night before

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The night before my life was turned upside down, you never would have guessed my family was about to be run into the ground.

It was Halloween night. Kaylee looked absolutely gorgeous in her Rapunzel costume. Evans Mario costume was a bit too tight for him, but he loved it so much he didn’t care.

Photo by paul voie on Pexels.com

We sat on my sister-in-law Carrie’s back yard patio chatting and drinking a beer my brother-in-law Saul had given me while the twins played with their cousins Henri and Yvie.

Erik laughed at something on his phone. I adored his laugh. “What are you laughing at?” I asked playfully.

“Nothing,” he said bluntly, “you wouldn’t get it.”

“Hey now,” I said rubbing his leg, “you never know, I might get it.”

“Its nothing, just an eye joke one of my classmates sent me.” He was going to school to be an optometrist.

I could tell he didn’t want me to push the topic, so I dropped it. Now, I want to punch myself in the face every time I think back to this specific moment. How did I not see this coming?

The rest of the night progressed without fault. We took the kids trick-or-treating around the block. Making sure to only visit the houses who had safety precautions for the covid pandemic.

I had gone into this Halloween expecting to be disappointed, but I was astounded at the lengths the neighborhood had taken to make this holiday safe and fun for the kids. In fact, they got more candy than they had any other year.

Once the kids started to complain that they were cold and tired we made our way back to Carrie’s and Saul’s where they immediately dove into their treasure trove of sugary treats. It wasn’t long before a sugar craze ensued. Kids running around like wild animals while we talked and played games.

“How have you been doing lately,” Carrie asked.

I had been struggling with depression for the last few months, the pandemic not helping matters. Recently I had met with a doctor (finally) who prescribed me anti-depressants. “I’ve actually been feeling a lot better, almost normal in fact.”

“That is great to hear! Just keep at it and it won’t be long before you are back to your normal self,” Saul grinned.

I hoped that they were right. For the entirety of the seven years of my marriage to Erik, I had somehow been able to juggle everything. I worked 60 hours a week, did all the cleaning, made breakfast and lunch for the kids before going to work. All so Erik could make it through school. But ever since we moved across the country, just the idea of getting up and taking a shower drained me. It was like wading through cement all day every day.

Soon, the kids sugar rush had drained. Their excitement and fun quickly turning into screaming tantrums. We gathered up their candy and their toys and packed the belligerent kids into the car.

It was late by the time we got home, so we gave the kids hugs and kisses. Had them brush their teeth, and go to bed.

I was excited to spend the rest of the holiday with Erik. Maybe watching a scary movie. Halloween was my favorite holiday after all. Instead, Erik plopped himself down in front of his laptop. His prime position for when he didn’t want to be bothered.

“How would you feel about getting us some drinks and spending time together?” I asked.

“Not tonight.”

“Okay, we could watch a movie together. Take it easy.”

“You know what, I’m actually really tired. I’m just going to take my laptop and watch some shows in bed till I fall asleep.” With that he gathered his things and went into our bedroom. Closing the door behind him.

I put on my headphones, listening to Hamilton, wondering what it would take for my husband to want to spend time with me, before finally carrying myself to bed early in the morning.