Together: Dani Ebebach

Marriage & Motherhood Series

“Did you drop him?” Walter asks.

Oliver, our black-and-white rescue cat, is on the kitchen table during dinner (again,) so my husband scoops him up and plops him back down on the floor where cats belong. Our toddler watches intently. He’s been obsessed with Oliver since the day we brought our “new cat” home from the shelter.

“No,” Brad replies. “I just set him down.”

“What does set mean?”

He knows what it means, but he’s really asking about the difference between set and drop. Brad picks up an envelope from the pile of unopened mail and holds it up above the table. He explains that drop means you let go before it touches the table. Set means it’s touching the table before you let go.

Brad lets the envelope fall to the table. “Drop,” he says, and picks it up again. This time he lowers it all the way down. “Set.” He does this a few times and our toddler grins. He understands the difference between the two words, and he likes the game Daddy made up.

Walter picks up his fork and holds it above the table. “Drop,” he says. The fork falls with a clatter onto the glass tabletop.

*

It was our senior year of high school, and Brad and I were in his pickup truck—a black Toyota Tacoma that was a smaller and less reliable version of the one he drives now—heading home from a day at the lake. So far we had managed to avoid any conversation about what would become of our relationship at the end of the school year. He had dreams of moving to Nashville to be a professional musician. I planned to go to college.

I wanted a family.

As we rode along the interstate, watching the sunset fade away to twilight and listening to the gravelly sound of the truck’s engine, I could only think of the conversation we weren’t having. The one where we both admitted we were scared, and unsure, and still trying to figure it out.

The one that would reassure me we both cared about each other and wanted to navigate this complicated road together. 

The one about us.

Unanswered questions loomed ahead of us. Did we both want this relationship enough to make it work long-distance? Was this thing we had really the kind of love people fought for?

*

We picked out a soft green color for our baby’s nursery before we found out whether we were having a boy or a girl. We talked about names. Walter, for a boy. I was sure we wouldn’t need a girl’s name.

It was exciting to think about what our lives as parents would look like. I imagined tiny hands holding my fingers and toddling steps leading me around the house. I imagined my husband coming home from work eager to play with our son while I made dinner. I pictured us building towers of stacking cups on the living room floor and reading books on the couch before bedtime.

I imagined parenting with my husband as another fun adventure, like the trail ride on horseback on our first anniversary or the first night we spent in our new house. 

I didn’t imagine there would be moments that reminded me of the day we found out he wasn’t accepted to the school in Nashville. I didn’t imagine it would sometimes feel like the evenings I spent talking to him on the phone from my college dorm room, trying to feel like we weren’t so far apart, missing him across the distance between us, deciding with him every day that we loved each other and the relationship was worth the fight.

*

The kids are asleep for the night. The dishes are (mostly) done. The cat has lost interest in the kitchen table now that there's no food on it. Brad and I sit down on the couch to relax for a few precious hours before we go to bed.

Parenting a toddler hasn’t been easy. My husband finds it challenging to embrace this season of life. I find it challenging to let go of expectations. At times we’re both scared, unsure, and still trying to figure this parenting thing out.

But unlike that twilight drive in the rattly old pickup truck, Brad and I have had enough conversations to know that we’re committed. We want the same things. We love our children. We love each other, even if it sometimes feels like we’re clinging to our marriage vows for dear life. This season is the hardest one yet, but I’ve seen just how much we’re committed to loving each other. 

We go to bed like we do every night: together.

***

Dani Eberbach lives in Indiana with her husband of 9 years, their two children, Walter (3) and Phoebe (9 months,) and two cats. Dani is an aspiring writer and photographer, and a lover of Coca-Cola, pizza, houseplants, iced vanilla lattes, and the beaches of southern Maine. She has a B.A. in communications and currently works part-time in marketing and product development.

Blog: https://www.thedanieberblog.com

IG: danieberbac