"I'm so glad we decided to do this," Chandler grunts out, panting.
"Yeah," I agree, trying to regulate my breathing.
"I mean, it's been years since we jogged together."
I glance over at him; his face is red, his t-shirt is soaked through with sweat, and he looks less than thrilled. I huff out a laugh and return my attention to the path in front of me. "Cardio, baby. You'll thank me for it later."
"I can think of better ways to get our heart rates up, you know."
"Yeah, but we can't do that in front of the kids."
It turns out that the suburbs are more than just peaceful—they can bet downright boring. Maybe it's not so bad if you didn't just live in the city that never sleeps, but when you're suddenly getting very little sleep at night, a quiet town feels like the enemy.
Not that I regret moving out here; it's just an adjustment to go from constant activity to…well, considerably less activity.
And despite the exhaustion that comes with being a new parent, I'm finding that I have odd amounts of energy. I don't know if it's because of all the changes in my life lately or because I've gone beyond exhaustion to a whole new level of existence, but I've taken up jogging to keep myself occupied.
Naturally, I drag Chandler along for the ride, and even though he complains about it, he's still out there with me, usually pushing the stroller.
Sometimes, I realize we've become so…suburban already I think I could kill myself. I'm sure we look normal out here, but if we'd seen people like us—a married couple jogging with a double stroller—in Central Park, we would have made fun of them for hours.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
I glance down at the twins, who seem perfectly content to be bounced along the path we're on.
That seems like more of a metaphor for life right now than I'm comfortable with.
The added bonus of these jogs is that it seems to calm Jack and Erica when they're being fussy.
But this has been a good way to get out of our house, which, as beautiful and wonderful as it is, can feel oddly oppressive when we've been holed up in it for days at a time, taking care of colicky, cranky children.
It's also a good way to actually get to know the area where we live, even if we still don't really know our neighbors.
That's been another adjustment; friendly neighbors. After so many years in the city, we both got used to the anonymity that oddly comes with living in such close quarters with so many people; usually, you nod at someone and carry on with your life. Out here, people actually want to get to know you. People greet us when we happen to go to the mailbox at the same time, or when we bump into them at the store. They ask questions about our children or where we're from, and not in a prying sort of way—just in a get-to-know-you way.
We're doing our damndest not to alienate our neighbors while we adjust to life out here, but we haven't been excessively friendly, either. I think most people understand that we have two little kids and our time is fairly limited.
We're also trying to work past how it almost feels like betraying our old friends by making new friends.
"How much longer?" Chandler pants, sounding cranky.
"The path ends just up there," I answer, nodding to a clearing not far in the distance.
He grunts in resignation, his breathing labored.
"Want me to push them?" I ask.
He just shakes his head, focused on the end of the run.
He really is a good sport; I know how much he hates running.
A few minutes later, we break through the clearing and our speed immediately slows. We walk in relative silence for a few more minutes as we both get our breathing under control, the twins making sweet little baby noises in the stroller in front of us.
Eventually, we come to a stop under a tree and park the stroller, both of us flopping to the ground. I take out a couple bottles of water and hand one to Chandler. "Thank you."
He lifts his eyebrow as he gulps most of his water. "For what?"
"For this. I know it's not your favorite thing to do."
He shrugs and kisses my cheek. "That sports bra top thingy barely contains your boobs when you run."
Self-consciously, I cross my arms over my chest. "Good to know. Does that mean all of our neighbors have been enjoying the show, too?"
"Probably no more so than when any other woman jogs by. Look, it's not like a Baywatch-level bounce. I just find it wildly appealing."
"Regardless, I'll be finding a new top soon."
He makes a face but says nothing. Instead, he leans up and looks at the twins, who coo happily when they see his face. Immediately, I follow suit, the look on their faces as they stare at their father enough to melt even the coldest of hearts.
"Hi Jack," I say, my heart fluttering when his eyes actually turn to me, his smile all gummy. They're just starting to respond to their names…we think. At the very least, they respond to our voices, which is still great. I look at my daughter, who's already staring at me—yeah, that one was probably a response to the sound of Mommy instead of a name. Still…I'll take it. "Hi Erica."
They kick happily, and Chandler grins at them, reaching out to tickle one little foot, then another, and I rest my head on my husband's shoulder. "How are they already three and a half months?"
He shakes his head slowly, still looking at the twins in wonder. He does that a lot, as if he still has trouble believing these little miracles belong to us.
I understand, though, because I feel the same way.
"You wanna come out to play?" he asks them, and drool dribbles down Erica's chin. "I'll take that as a yes." He reaches out for them and I place a hand on his arm.
"Blanket," I tell him, pulling it out from the bottom of the stroller as he sighs.
"It's okay for them to get a little dirty, Mon."
"I know," I answer defensively as I spread the blanket out on the ground. "Does that mean we need to get yet another outfit dirty? Or in this case, two outfits? I think I have more than enough laundry as it is."
He says nothing, and instead opts to lift Jack out of the stroller, handing him to me, before picking up Erica. I bounce Jack a little on my lap, impressed to feel his little legs offering some resistance. I'm sure they're both a ways off from being able to stand, but it's still amazing to see how much they're changing and growing, sometimes by the hour. I lift him up and kiss his belly, and he blows bubbles at me in response.
"Tummy time?" I ask him, expecting no response, as I gently lay him on his stomach.
Chandler groans. "I really hate that expression," he tells me, even as he puts Erica on her stomach, too.
"Well, if you have a better name for it, please feel free," I answer, laying face down on the blanket next to my son, looking up to see Erica peeking at me. Even I have to admit that "tummy time" is pretty lame, and "supervised tummy time" is even worse, but I get why it's done.
I watch our children for a while as they try to use their arms to hold themselves up, their feet kicking a little, Chandler explaining the intricacies of the world to them; it's completely captivating.
We fall silent for a while, and finally I ask, "Are you okay?"
"Sure. Why do you ask?"
"You just seem…grumpy today."
"I really don't like jogging," he answers and I roll my eyes.
"This is more than a dislike of a physical activity."
"I'm okay—really."
I don't believe him, but I don't know what could be bugging him, and he can be really uncommunicative when he wants to be. Then I remember his comment earlier about other ways to work out. "Are you getting enough sex?" I blurt out.
Chandler sputters for a moment, his eyes growing wide. "What? Where did that come from?"
"Sometimes you get crabby when you haven't gotten laid for a while, so…I mean, I know I've been distracted since the twins were born, so maybe…"
His hand reaches out, covering mine. "Monica—it's fine."
I feel an involuntary wave of sadness wash over me. "So, that is it."
He sighs, squeezing my fingers until I look up at him, his eyes sad, too. "That's not it. I promise you. Would I like to have sex more? Of course. But let's be honest, honey—since the first time we slept together, I haven't been able to get enough of you. Would it be nice to be able to spend all day in bed together, making love with no interruptions? Well, yeah, but it's been a long time since we've done that—long since before the kids came along. It's just not realistic. But please don't think that what you're giving me isn't enough, because it is."
"The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy," I mumble, looking away from him, averting my eyes to our children.
"I'm not unhappy. Not even a little. I love our life. I just get a little…horny."
"Okay, well, I don't want that, either. What if I get so busy being a mommy that I forget to be your wife and you go—"
His hands immediately reach out, gently holding my face, bringing my eyes to meet his. "I will never cheat on you. Never. You're my wife and I love you and our children more than anything. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I wouldn't do something stupid to ruin it, especially not something like hooking up with some girl to—what? Relieve tension? Besides; I think we have a lot more sex than most new parents do. Just don't think you need to put out more because I get turned on by a gentle breeze half the time."
I chuckle, one of my hands reaching up to hold his. "Then what's bothering you if it's not lack of sex?"
He hangs his head for a moment, glancing over at the twins to make sure they're all right. "It's kind of dumb," he warns.
"If it's upsetting you, it's not dumb."
"I'm pissed off at myself because I want so much sex."
I blink at him several times, my mind actually a complete blank. "What?"
"It's not a lack of nookie that's got me cranky, I promise. I don't even get upset when you're too tired for it—I know how hard you work at the restaurant, and then you come home and do all this housework and you really are the world's greatest mom, and then I just get irritated at myself for not being more understanding and wanting you so much all the time."
I finally sit up, bringing Jack with me, propping him into a sitting position against my legs, my hand on his chest to keep him upright. "You're saying you're mad at yourself because you want me too much?"
He shrugs, picking Erica up as well, helping her balance on her feet. "Told you it was dumb."
"This may be the first time ever, but I have no idea how to respond to that."
"Look, I don't want to seem like some horny, teenage guy all the time, so yeah…I get irritated with myself for being so…"
"Human?"
"I'm telling you, this is stupid but…you've always been beautiful to me, you know? Always. But something about you being a mother is just…I don't know. It's just such an incredible turn-on that I don't know what do with myself. And now you're always so tired and stretched so thin that I feel like a jerk keeping you awake when I know you need the sleep."
I feel relieved laughter bubble out of me. "Oh, my God. I thought we weren't doing it because I was becoming such a turn-off. I always have some sort of baby fluid on me, or I'm dirty because I haven't felt like showering because it just takes too much energy to stand for that long some days, or—"
I'm cut off by his lips on mine, his free hand tangling in my hair, and I fall into the kiss, relief coursing through my veins. Until this moment, I hadn't realized just how unappealing I'd felt, and it's wonderful to know that it's all in my head.
"In all the years we've been sleeping together," I say when we come up for air. "How many times have I turned you down?"
"Not many," he admits, gently rubbing his nose against mine.
"And how many times have I turned you down because I was tired?"
He's silent, and I can tell he's trying to the make calculations in his head. "Even less. But I—"
I kiss him again, cutting him off. "Just ask," I say simply.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Here I thought I was being noble, letting you get some much-needed sleep, and I had you thinking I didn't want you. When did we stop talking to each other?"
"I think somewhere around the time two little people came into our lives," I answer, leaning down to kiss Jack's head.
Chandler picks up Erica, propping her up so that she's against his shoulder, facing out, their heads side by side. "So, I guess the lesson we've learned today is to communicate. Seems like that should have been Marriage 101."
"It was. But now we're a family, and we have to figure out how to do that, too. Everything's different. We just have to try to take time for just us once in a while. Talk about something more than what the twins did every day, you know? And maybe one day, if we're bold enough, get a babysitter and go on a date or something?"
"I love you," he tells me, and I feel tears prickle behind my eyes. "I probably don't tell you that enough, especially not lately, but I love you. You, Jack, Erica…you're my whole world."
"I love you, too," I whisper. He smiles as he leans in, gently kissing me again. I feel Erica's hand in my hair and I laugh, pulling away from her gently. "Come on. These two will need to eat again soon."
"All right," he answers, standing up with ease despite the baby in his arms. He gently grabs my elbow to help me up, then wraps an arm around me, pulling me close, the four of us standing in an embrace until Jack starts to wiggle against my side, either in need of attention or not fond of being squished in.
"Okay, little man," I say, shifting him up and turning him out so he can look at the world. "Let's go home."
Chandler packs up the blanket and we each grab a handle of the stroller, walking slowly this time, taking care to point out sights and sounds along the way.
And, just as importantly, taking a few moments here and there to kiss.