People say adding a baby to a relationship is the ultimate test. Hey, from my experience, I say getting pregnant when newly dating was even more of one. Not because we’re failing, but because even the best team in the world can’t win if the rules keep changing, the goal posts keep moving and players are half-asleep.
Let’s set the scene: three kids, including a 5-month-old all in the space of roughly 18 months.
Despite Maddy already knowing my kids prior to us dating and having built a strong friendship with them already, becoming a step-parent obviously brings many more layers of complexities. I will preface this by saying Maddy may fall into the title of a ‘step-parent’ but she far exceeds that. She stands beside me playing the role of a full time parent just as much as I do.
We primarily have the kids with us, and she attends more after school & extra curricular actives outside of her own work than I currently do with a little baby at home. She is as committed to raising my children as I am and I am forever grateful to have such a supportive partner to myself, Bobby and Florence.
I see at times her conflicts, despite her rarely raising them. I see her unclear role - unsure whether to be a parent, friend, or something in between to my eldest two. I see her feeling the time-sharing stress just as I do - yearning for that crucial time one on one with your partner but knowing the priority will always and must be the children. She finically contributes without ever being asked and without question, and she provides a different layer of emotional support - a comforting & different voice outside of me as their mum.
Sure, she signed up for it, but I’m certain you can never really know what you’re in for until you’re in it. So again, as mentioned, she’ll never complain, but I feel her wanting for me just as much as I yearn for her in times.
Raising 3 kids and both having different work schedules means our lives are similar to a tag-team relay race. A bedroom that’s now home to two adults, one baby, and roughly 48 missing dummies. And somehow… we’re still laughing. Still choosing each other. Still dancing around the kitchen in our pjs.
Because the truth is, we’re not just parenting together. We’re doing life with our best friend. And that makes all the difference. Yes, it’s a wild ride we’re on, but one thing I can provide Maddy with is experience and insight into knowing this time and this deep grind doesn’t last forever.
We’ve always been scarily in sync, helped by the fact that a very inexperienced Maddy was born such a natural mother when Esmé came into this world.
One of us grabs the dummy before the other even hears the cry. We offer to do each other’s night shifts just because we share the same selflessness. Need your drink bottle filled up? It’s already done.
I’m proud of the fact that I genuinely think we’ve only had one argument since bringing Esmé home. And if memory serves, it was about something very important like… who left the wet wipes open (it was definitely me). That’s not to say it’s all roses and sexy date nights. Our ‘alone time’ looks more like one of us shovelling pasta into our mouth while the other wrangles bath time, or two zombies sitting side-by-side in silence on a TikTok doom scroll. And the whole ‘rekindling the romance’ thing? Slightly tricky when your third wheel is a five-month-old snoring three feet away in a bassinet.
Sex life? It’s patient. And creative. Alone time in bed only occurs once netball training finishes, the footy boots are packed away, school uniforms are laid out, dinner is cooked and cleaned up, school lunchboxes are made, baby bottle’s been drank, highchair cleaned up, dogs fed and put outside, play area restored for the next morning, 4 x showers and one bath is had, Florence’s 30 min arm tickles are completed… wait? Are you already so tired and asleep? Because, same.
We do our very best, and as Esmé gets older I know we will adapt even more, but the realty is that sometimes we high-five as we pass each other in the hallway and call it quality time.
Despite the tired eyes and the tangled routines, there’s no one I’d rather be in the trenches with. We laugh way more than we cry. We support each other without keeping score. And when one of us is running on fumes, the other somehow finds the strength to step up, even if they’re equally exhausted. It’s not glamorous. It’s not sexy. But it is love. The deep, ride-or-die, tag-you’re-it kind. And that’s the love with Maddy that I love the most.
Dating your best friend means even on the hard days, you still want to be around each other.
I’d pick this chaos with her a thousand times over.
So here we are. Not perfect. But pretty damn close to perfect for each other.
And I am so fucking thankful my children have Mads in their life.
