The Tired Dad Morning Reflections: Part 9

Marriage in the Trenches

Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening, tired parent.

Marriage changes when you become parents. That’s the reality. There’s no way around it. Some couples go into parenthood with the belief that their love will remain exactly as it was before kids—unchanged, untouched, untouchable. But the truth is, children will transform your relationship in ways you can’t anticipate. The late-night feedings, the exhaustion, the shifting priorities, the endless to-do lists—it all adds up. And without intention, without effort, without awareness, the person you once saw as your partner can start to feel like nothing more than a co-parent.

I know this because my wife and I went through it.

[October 2012. The very first picture we took together less than a week after we met. What a journey it’s been.]

We started off like most couples do, caught up in the honeymoon phase. Before kids, we traveled. We spent slow mornings drinking coffee and talking about everything and nothing. We went on random adventures, stayed out too late, and lived freely, just the two of us. Marriage felt effortless in those early years, like it should always be that way. Then parenthood arrived, and everything shifted.

The love didn’t go away, but it changed. It had to. Because love, real love, is fluid. It bends and stretches and reshapes itself to fit the seasons of life. And in the season of raising small children, love looks a lot less like candlelit dinners and spontaneous weekends away and a lot more like tag-teaming diaper changes and late-night rocking sessions. It looks like learning how to love each other through exhaustion, through stress, through the chaos of raising tiny humans who demand everything from you.

There was a time when we drifted. Not in a way that led to dramatic confrontations, although arguments happened, but more in the quiet way that happens when you stop seeing each other outside of your roles as parents. We were both so focused on our children, on getting through each day, that we forgot to look at each other—to really see each other.

It wasn’t until we hit a breaking point that we realized something had to change.

Choosing Each Other Again and Again

The thing about marriage is that it isn’t self-sustaining. It requires maintenance, just like anything else in life that we want to last. We don’t question the need to work at our jobs, to put in the effort to stay healthy, to be intentional in parenting. But for some reason, many people expect marriage to thrive without the same level of attention.

The reality is, love is a choice. Every single day, you wake up and choose your partner again.

Sometimes that choice is easy. On the days when everything is going well, when the kids are behaving, when work stress is low, when life feels smooth—love is effortless. But what about the hard days? The days when you’re both running on empty, when every interaction feels transactional, when your patience is thin and your frustration high? What about the seasons where you feel more like coworkers than lovers?

Those are the moments that define a marriage. Because love isn’t about how you feel in the easy times. It’s about the effort you put in when things feel difficult. It’s about choosing to turn toward each other instead of away, to prioritize connection even when it’s inconvenient, to fight for your relationship even when it would be easier to coast.

The Small Things Matter More Than You Think

One of the biggest lessons we’ve learned in marriage is that love isn’t built on grand gestures—it’s built in the small, everyday moments.

It’s in the way we greet each other after a long day, whether with frustration or with kindness. It’s in the way we speak about each other to our kids, showing them what love and partnership look like. It’s in the intentional choices—the extra-long hug before leaving for work, the text in the middle of the day just to say, I appreciate you, the way we listen when the other person talks instead of just waiting for our turn to speak.

These things don’t take much time, but they take awareness. And when we let them slip—when we forget to see each other in the small moments—the distance starts to grow.

Marriage and Parenthood Can Coexist

A lot of parents, especially in the early years, feel like they have to choose between being fully present for their children or being fully present for their spouse. But it’s not about choosing—it’s about balancing. About recognizing that one role does not need to exist at the expense of the other.

Yes, there are seasons when our children demand more of us, when our time and energy are stretched thin. But that doesn’t mean our marriages should be put on hold indefinitely. It doesn’t mean we stop showing up for each other, stop prioritizing intimacy, stop making time—even if it’s just stolen moments throughout the day—to connect.

Our kids need to see love modeled for them. They need to see what partnership looks like, what respect looks like, what it means to love someone not just in words but in actions. They need to grow up in homes where love isn’t just something spoken, but something shown.

One day, our children will grow up and leave. And when they do, what will be left of the marriage? If we’ve neglected it, if we’ve allowed distance to settle in, we won’t recognize the person sitting across from us at the dinner table. But if we’ve continued to nurture our relationship, to choose each other even in the busiest seasons, then we’ll have something strong, something lasting, something worth celebrating.

What I Want My Kids to See

I want my kids to see a father who loves their mother deeply. I want them to grow up watching a marriage that isn’t perfect, but is full of respect, laughter, apologies, and effort. I want them to know that love is a verb, not just a feeling—that it’s something you work at, something you choose, something you build together.

I want my son to learn how to be a partner, not just a provider. I want my daughter to know that love isn’t about perfection, but about presence and a deep, selfless connection with another person. I want them to see what a healthy marriage entails and what is considered “normal.” I want them both to understand that the greatest gift we can give them is a home filled with love that lasts.

So yes, marriage changes after kids. But if we let it, if we nurture it, if we continue to show up for each other, it doesn’t have to be a loss. It can be something deeper, something stronger, something even more beautiful than before.

Because in the end, love isn’t about never changing. It’s about changing together.

A Thought for the Day

What’s one small thing you can do today to prioritize your marriage? A small act of kindness, a moment of connection, a word of appreciation? Love isn’t found in the grand gestures—it’s built in the everyday moments.