Home Life Laurie Nigro Laurie Nigro Marriage is like wrestling a greased pig into a tutu,...

Laurie Nigro
Marriage is like wrestling a greased pig into a tutu, till death do you part

I’ve been married for a while now. Almost half of my life has been spent with one person. We support each other and share pretty much everything.

(Seriously, if he doesn’t stop wearing my leggings – and looking better in them than I do – my head might explode.)

Nigro_Laurie_badgeTogether, we are raising two pretty awesome kids. We even enjoy spending time together. Sometimes, when we’re working side by side, I look directly into his stunning blue eyes and threaten to punch him right in his damn face. To date, I have not yet followed through. Though there have been some close calls, I have never assaulted my husband. I like to think it’s because I am patient and kind, that I have reached a level of maturity that keeps me level-headed and clear-thinking whenever I am presented with a difficult situation.

But just because I want to believe it doesn’t make it true. For instance, I would really, really like to believe that eating Snicker’s bars will shave pounds off my thighs. But clearly, that’s not working.

The reality is that I don’t follow through because that’s not how this marriage thing works. Instead of allowing my id to rule, I have to dig deep and put in the hard work.

Marriage doesn’t just happen. There is no such thing as happily ever after. There is no such thing as perfect love.

Marriage is a freak show.

It is messy and dirty. There is ugly crying, with fat tears and streaming snot that pour down your face. There are ugly words that we know we can never take back. And there are ugly feelings that scare the hell out of us. I sometimes wonder, how can I love someone so much and then wish the plague on him, all in the same day?

Because marriage.

When I signed up for this “’til death do us part” thing, I’m not really sure that I knew about all the stuff that happens prior to the death part. I did, however, promise myself that I would never give up, that I would fight — all scrappy and mean if necessary — to make it work. And though there have been times when I’m sure it would be easier to wrestle a greased pig into a tutu, I’ve stuck by my promise.

A long time ago, I went to college for four years. Before that, I went to high school, also for four years. And before that, I did the whole grade school thing. That totaled nine years. (I threw in kindergarten.) So that’s 17 years of education, 180 days per year. If my math is right, that comes to a metric butt-ton of school.

So why all this education? Because I needed to be able to go out and get a job. I needed to learn skills that would carry me into the “real world.” I needed to be able to read and add. I learned to problem solve and work with a team. I can’t say that I’ve ever used all my shop class skills, but if you need some wood shellacked or a whirligig made, you just let me know.

Then one day, I met this adorable guy and we decided that life was better with each other than without. We decided on a Catholic marriage and were sent to a series of pre-Cana classes. For the heathens amongst you, pre-Cana is a (required) course or consultation for couples preparing to be married in a Catholic church. (Just kidding about the heathen part.)

The key word there is “required.” We spent something like 20 hours, over the course of a few weeks, at the home of this old couple (they were like 40) as they told us all about how to be married. We were very young and extra stupid and didn’t think they had anything to offer. We only showed up because we had to show up. This was all we were given to understand and succeed at marriage.

And then, just like that, we were married. Together. As one. Forever and always.

The sickness is a lot harder than the health. Mostly because men are super terrible at being sick and think Satan is punishing them every time they get a head cold. But then there are the good times! Yay! Those times are awesome. Like, “Woohoo, I’m so glad I did this! Isn’t he just the greatest? And seriously, look at that perfect hair!” awesome.

But life thinks it’s a freaking comedian and for every ten goods, there are a couple of bads.

When we had our first big fight, I looked through all the instruction manuals that I save with a hoarder’s passion and was horrified to find there was nothing labeled “Marriage.” I would get no troubleshooting section. There would be no 1-800 support number.

I mean, WTF?

Seventeen years of education so I could understand a New Yorker cartoon and 20 hours — less than one full day — to figure out the man who would watch babies come out of my lady parts? How is that even legal? So without a manual, we were forced to figure it out ourselves. Sometimes, it’s all sunshine and roses. Your dinner makes it to the table on time and no one complains that it has peas. Your kids do something cute and adorable and you catch it on video. Your husband does the laundry, without being asked. And you actually hold hands and walk off into the sunset. (Just make sure you wear sunglasses because squinting ruins the whole thing.)

And then sometimes, you are so mad that you can’t see straight. Or you’re so sad that you can’t find the hope you know was once there. Or you’re so tired that you just don’t have the energy to keep trying. Those times suck.

During those times, it would be easy to walk away. It would be easy to be cruel. It would be easy to give up. But remember, marriage isn’t easy. It doesn’t just happen.

Just like I had to work hard to learn algebra, I have to work hard to be happily married. Sometimes, I have to move his dirty clothes. Move them from being ON the hamper to being IN the hamper. Sometimes, I have to clean the kitchen after he’s come through like a wrecking ball trying to make toast. Sometimes, I have to admit that maybe I was too demanding. Or too impatient. Or overly critical. Or just plain wrong. Sometimes, I have to eat crow. And even apologize.

Luckily, it’s a two-way street. We both acknowledge that there’s no such thing as perfect. We both know that we can be difficult roommates. We both accept that we have to take the bad with the good. And we both love the hell out of each other.

So we keep working at it. For better or for worse, ’til death do us part. Unless we die together. Then I guess we’re stuck together for eternity. Is that how that works?

I would probably know if there was a freaking manual!

Until someone writes the definitive guide to marriage, I suggest looking for things in life that bring you mutual joy; good movies, frequent vacations, and cheesecake. I freaking love cheesecake. Try this recipe from Junior’s on Flatbush Avenue. More than one critic has named it the best cheesecake in New York. And really, where else do they even make cheesecake?

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Laurie Nigro, is the mother of two biological children and one husband. She also takes care of a menagerie of animals that leaves throw-up around for her to step in in the middle of the night. Laurie’s passionate about frugal, natural living, which is a nice way of saying she’s a kombucha-brewing, incense-burning, foodie freak who tries really hard not to spend money on crap made by child laborers. You can hear her rant about her muse (aka husband) and other things that have no bearing on your life, in this space each Sunday.

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Laurie Nigro
Laurie is the mother of two biological children and one husband and the caretaker of a menagerie of animals. Laurie is passionate about frugal, natural living. She was recognized by the L.I. Press Club with a “best humor column” award in 2016. Email Laurie