On Monday, Dave and I had a 'disagreement'. It was one of those moments when one person says something and it shoots straight into the other's brain and triggers all the hidden buttons of insecurity, identity and fear. On the face of it, we were merely discussing my lack of enthusiasm for a planned outing for Dave and his friends (right through crazy hour), but the undercurrents of the moment went much deeper. Or so at least I thought.

We celebrated our eleventh anniversary on Sunday.

When I write that down I feel strange. How on earth could that amount of time have already passed us by? It feels like yesterday that we were perched in the boot of my yellow Cruze, strumming the guitar and hanging out in The Den at our university. Dave still mocks me about my overconfidence in my squash skills as I challenged him to a match in our early days of hanging out. I lost. Though, I believe I might have been playing in heels.... (there is a slight chance I could have inserted that part into the memory to make myself feel better).

We were young, passionate, driven by urgency to make our lives 'count', moved by compassion and hope. Dave poured his energy into running events to bring people together for a common cause- hurting souls.

My journalling at the time reveals a heart desperate to make the right choice, to align my future with someone who would cherish and appreciate me, encourage me and spur me on. His letters touch on the need to make his life count and to have someone who would walk alongside him into the unknown.

Dave and I look back at the youthful 'us' and shake our heads sometimes. Really, did we have any idea what we were doing? Him, barely 22 and me, 20?! It sounds so crazy now, and I have no doubt our family and friends would have worked hard not to express doubts or fears at the time.

And yet, it has somehow worked....

We have lived in seven different dwellings throughout our marriage, even back with my parents for a period while we saved to travel to Europe for my sister's wedding. We lived in tiny apartments as budget conscious students, church housing while Dave was employed as a Youth and Young Adults worker, on campus at a college sharing meals in a big dining hall, shared a house with Alex and Monica with our young toddlers (each of us with another on the way). We've travelled through South-East Asia, New Zealand, Italy and Poland. We've been research assistants, sandwich artists, store managers, church workers, volunteers, students, articled clerks, lawyers, teachers, pastors, church planters and parents.

It is a whirlwind of memories, locations and shared experiences.

There have been difficult moments- car crashes, surgeries, a miscarriage, extended hospital visits for two of our newborns, extended and complicated labours, sleepless nights, fights, disagreements, tears, a moment where our house dreams almost collapsed (until our very generous housemates lent us a significant amount of money), we've been victims of cyclo scammers in Vietnam, come close to hitting zero in our bank account, experienced crises of faith, lost almost eleven years of memories stored on a broken hard drive (I still get teary when I think of that one), we've been burnt out in positions of leadership... but we have survived.

Marriage is a bit of an enigma. You can think you have it all figured out, and then suddenly one comment can make you think as if you were completely mistaken. So much in our communication is tied up in our previous experiences together and what those words might have meant in the past. The care that we would take in our conversations with others can be discarded and we show our grumpy and exhausted faces to each other instead. Expressing excitement at the other's gain, when we know it means our immediate loss, can be difficult, even if you grudgingly admit it is what they need to hear. As a parent, outings and spare time can become transactional, and a chalkboard ledger hovers ominously in the background for either to wield against the other.

And yet... true freedom in marriage only comes when someone takes a step first. To lay down their 'rights' to privileges or expectations. To say sorry even if the words catch coming out. To be willing not to rehash past wrongs, and accept an apology. Realising that your partner will disappoint you and hurt you, often without meaning to. Dave is a lot better at this abdication than I. He is quick to forgive, slow to anger, and does not hold onto past wrongs. (He may lack the memory capacity for that last one, I suspect!)

After our Monday disagreement, many words were used to work out why it was such a big deal to both of us. I have a little more understanding about my own identity struggles and the need to be affirmed as a good 'supporter' and 'helper' to Dave. Also, to be seen as the laid back, easy going wife who lets her husband do anything. It isn't really the whole picture.

Marriage. It certainly isn't easy, and the pressures of parenthood press down to reveal the weak points you never suspected existed. Eleven years in and I feel as if I have only uncovered a small fraction of this puzzle, but I am so thankful and grateful to have someone so incredible to learn alongside.

David Colin Edwin Hughes, you are an amazing, inspiring, visionary, passionate man. A father to our kids beyond what I could have hoped for. I love doing life with you. Thank you for encouraging me, cherishing me, pushing me and contradicting me when I try to hang onto misconceptions. Despite the sheer number of ideas and visions you  have conceived, I am excited to see which seeds blossom into vivid realities and I know you will continue to make your significant mark on this world into the future. You have made a inconceivable mark on us already.

Last week, for the first time in our ten year marriage, I stormed out without letting Dave know where I was going.

It had been an emotional day, filled with misunderstandings and disappointments arising completely out of left field, though Sundays generally tend to be tough on our family, with all the tasks and to do lists that attach themselves to the running of a lunch gathering. I'd left Belgrave Heights early to get the kids to bed, though I'd dawdled due to the 'rediscovery of toys and playing nicely' phase that seems to coincide with returning to the house. By the time Dave arrived home, I'd only just put Ivy and Hudson to bed, and was about to send Eli to rest time.

To be honest, I don't even remember why it was such a big deal but the way it played out, I felt like Dave's strategy of attempting to make a deal with Eli completely undermined my arrangement with him that was already in place, and it just didn't end well. I leaned into the 'bad cop' persona as the warm and fuzzy option had already been taken, and Eli didn't want a bar of it. I felt redundant, betrayed, frustrated and helpless. So I grabbed my keys and journal and just left.

I'm really good at withdrawing into a sullen zone if I'm struggling to classify my reactions, but this was a new level of running away. In one way it kinda felt empowering as it was so completely out of character to do something so dramatic, but I did feel a little childish and guilty.

After an hour or so of journalling and pouring out all the hurt and frustration to a close friend, I felt ready to face the world of parenting again. Dave was pretty magnanimous about it all, texting me to spend more time away if I needed to, or to head out to Savers if I wanted. I sure wouldn't have been as generous if the roles were reversed... Later he admitted he was secretly impressed (in part) at my theatrical exit as it was somewhat unexpected.

It has been a whirlwind of sickness, paperwork, kinder information nights, school tours, paperwork, hospitality, health appointments and paperwork since we have been back. After the initial sickness died down, I did feel that we've hit a sort of equilibrium with the kids that seems like either the calm before a storm, or a new phase of developmental clarity in which each are moving forward and complementing each others' stage of being.

Eli has well and truly progressed to the insult phase now which was not entirely unexpected, but being called a 'mean mummy' every time something doesn't go his way is not super fun. Mostly I try and let it roll over me, but he has received a few lectures about how I'm actually a good mum who cares about how he turns out, but I suspect that not much is being retained if the steely eyed glare I receive in response is anything to go by.

The battle I do find more difficult is the 'I want DADDY to put me to bed' one, where either child can throw an epic tantrum if they find out it is Mummy's turn to go through the routine. Not so great for the self-esteem. I usually start off trying to see the humour in it, but after about five minutes of wailing I just get pissed off! Dave chides me for taking it personally, but it does hit hard, after we've usually spent a day filled with fun, craft, cooking and outside games together, suddenly I become the lousy second choice. I don't want to brush if off and pretend it doesn't hurt, but I don't want to be the dramatic wounded soul either. Still working on how to balance that one!

On a more positive note, I've been reading a book that keeps popping up in blog posts and books I've been reading: 'How to Talk So Kids Will Listen, and Listen So Kids Will Talk' by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish. Already, I've been practicing the lessons from the first chapter with good results. The main gist so far is that instead of denying the feelings that the child is presenting (anger, frustration, jealousy, hunger etc), you simply state what you think they are experiencing. I have noticed that I do a lot of the practices the book says to avoid, like lecturing them, giving advice, dismissing their feelings, trying to rationalise the situation, when really at the heart of it we all just need some empathy. It has defused a number of situations so far, though not so easy when I'M the one feeling angry or frustrated, usually at being completely ignored in my 'nice voice' the first five times I've said something.... Hmmm, maybe the next chapters will deal with that problem!

On the whole though, life is good. Despite the battles and misunderstandings, we have so much to be thankful for and excited about. We had a buzzing neighbourhood barbeque today and the turn out was so great, with face painting, live gypsy folk music by the Scrimshaw Four and loads of amazing meats and salads. I'm also very inspired to start a Cookbook Club based on this article I came across recently. So many things to learn, try, experience and savour...