Yesterday, at about the same time that we were standing at the altar 17 years ago, I was in a far, far, far out suburb (almost to Wisconsin, really), watching our 13-year-old sing in an honors choir. My betrothed was at home with the boys watching Northwestern lose to Penn State. I wonder what the bride I was 17 years ago would have thought about it all. Possibly, she wouldn't have been too surprised, as where we were yesterday was a direct result of decisions we have made together over the past 17--or really 21 years (counting all the years we've lived together).
Looking back, I'm proud of the decisions we've made. They may not be the right ones for everyone or anyone--but they continually prove to play out well for us.
The big decision that we made that continues to affect our lives is that we both opted for jobs that don't include massive amounts of travel. Sure, we've both traveled for business. But we really like being together at the end of the day and find it terribly lonely when we're separated. Sure, we could be making a lot more money and have a great rambling house. But what is that worth when we would be miserable.
Just the other day, our youngest was in the car with me. A few blocks north of us, a block of McMansions and old, large homes line a private golf course. My son commented on their size, and I asked if he wished we lived in one. He said no--they'd cost too much and we wouldn't be able to eat. I explained that if we had one of those houses that Dad would have a job that required him to be on the road all week. And Mom wouldn't be able to freelance and would be in an office all day. He said he'd rather have us home than gone--and that he likes our house as it is. I think he really meant it--and it really made everything we do worth it.
Of course that brings us to a couple of other decisions we've made. When we had our first baby, we lived in a 2-bedroom apartment in the city. My husband had been promoted and received a huge raise that gave us the opportunity for me to stay home with the baby, scrimp and save, then search for a house.
When I feel old and icky, my daughter reminds me that we're some of the youngest parents with kids our kids' ages in the district. That puts things in perspective, and I'm glad we had the kids early on. Sure, once again, we missed out on several years of DINK (duel-income-no-children) and higher savings. But when the youngest leaves for college, we'll only be 49--hopefully with many years of good living ahead of us.
Despite my parents warnings ("You have a beautiful, happy baby. Don't press your luck"), we also decided an only child was not for us. So, then came boy #1 (Mr. Colic), which led to the undecided baby (ooops). Of course, that led to the decision to not be able to procreate anymore. Every time I get baby envy, I am glad we made that particular decision.
At one point, we seriously considered a move back to Indiana. Despite a serious search, the right job for my spouse just didn't pan out. He got an offer here before one ever materialized there. The decision was urgent (he had been unemployed during the tech bust back in '01)--so we went with what worked for us then and there. And really, I don't think either of us regret it. We love the Chicago area. I worked downtown before kids , and most of my clients are downtown. I still get a thrill when I go into the city for meetings. We're happy our kids are growing up where we are.
Once they were in school, perhaps I should have gone back to an in-house marketing job. But my freelance career was starting to work out and pay off (well, at least pay for the extras). And now, faced with having a high schooler, a middle schooler and a 5th grader next year, I think I will be working out of our home for the next several years to prevent random after-school parties and boy and girlfriends from getting too "cozy" in those witching hours of 3-6pm.
We've worked hard for what we have. We've done it our way. And, most importantly, we've done it together. As my father once told me, there are more valleys in life together than there are peaks--but if you go through the valleys together, then you will reach the peaks together. He was a wise man, my father. We've drawn strength from each other in the hard times and celebrated together in the good times.
And we celebrated last night with a wonderful sushi dinner!
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