kissing chickenWarning: you don’t necessarily have to kiss chickens to have a good time . . .

Life can be mundane at times.

As the mother of three young children, I am on-the-go with a brain always working about ten seconds ahead to anticipate and prepare for what’s coming next. Which is probably why I lose my sunglasses, keys, and cell phone a whole lot.

The details of life can weigh me down. And the paper? Oh, my. The paperwork that surrounds three little people and two adults requires an administrative assistant alone.

There are many days in which I feel like I’m living in Groundhog’s Day everyday. Different day, same you-know-what . . .

Which is how fun slips by Jason and I sometimes.

It’s rare when we are able to have a conversation that isn’t interrupted or hurried because we’re late. So often, date nights were times when we could discuss a myriad of conversations that remained unsaid during the week.

So I would bring them up.

But.

I am married to a man that doesn’t necessarily always want to talk about what’s concerning us as parents at the moment or our finances during date night.

This past summer, I realized . . . he’s right.

There is so much to be said for having fun together. Shared fun bonds two people together like Gorilla Glue.

“When we go out tonight,” I told him one hot, humid July afternoon, “we’re not talking about anything serious. Only fun stuff.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me like I’d lost my ever-loving mind.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said with a mischievous grin.

And we didn’t. Talk about anything serious that is.

Instead, we talked about stuff that doesn’t really have the power to change the world–but it had the power to change our marriage.

I was reminded of what drew us together in the first place: we had a blast together. The man has a serious ability to make me laugh.

We went on a spree of prioritizing fun and something happened: we began to see each other like we used to. We ignited the spark again. We laughed.

I wasn’t just the mom who runs carpool and preschool drop-off and flag football practice and the meal-maker and the forgotten-lunch taker.

I was the girl he fell in love with again and I felt like I had returned from a long winter’s nap. On the flip side, I was reminded why I fell in love with him.

So it got me thinking . . . Why do I make fun the lowest priority in my daily life?

Oh, yeah. I’m busy. And I’m really tired. And I have what feels like a million people saying “Mama” throughout the day.

Which is not me complaining. I love those people who call me mama.

Yet taking care of others can be exhausting and it can drain the fun out of the everyday if you let it. And I do. I try not to, but I do.

Anyone else with me on this?

Mutual fun within a marriage creates a bond of hidden jokes, knowing glances, and the actual desire to want to be together – and not because you have to be together since you’re married with three kids.

And when this happens, when Jason and I are having fun, it trickles down to our children. We have more fun and, in turn, they have more fun.

Now, mind you, It’s not all lollipops and unicorns over here. Let’s not get carried away.

But I must admit there’s something to this whole prioritizing fun thing.

And it’s that missing something that has laid dormant for far too long and I didn’t know how much I missed it until it returned.

Welcome back, fun. My husband and I have missed you.

So since we’re talking about fun . . . What do you do for fun?