I keep saying I want to keep the spark alive in marriage after kids, but half the time I catch myself eating leftover dinosaur chicken nuggets cold over the sink at 10:51 p.m. while my wife texts me from the bedroom “did you feed the dog or should I drag myself out there.” romance is dead. long live logistics.
We Lost the Old Spark Pretty Fast (And That’s Normal, Apparently)
Before kids we stayed up until stupid-o’clock debating whether pineapple belongs on pizza and making out like it was an Olympic sport. Now 9:45 p.m. feels like 3 a.m. and our deepest conversations revolve around whose turn it is to scrape Play-Doh out of the carpet.
The first year after our daughter arrived, I barely recognized my wife’s real laugh—the one that isn’t immediately followed by “shhh the baby’s finally down.” We survived on coffee, spite, and sheer stubbornness. One night around month seven I tried to get flirty. I whispered “hey wanna mess around?” while the baby monitor blinked green like it was judging me. She just stared, pointed at the giant wet spot on her shirt from leaking milk, and said “buddy… read the damn room.”
She was right. I wasn’t reading anything except my own horniness.
For anyone who wants the sciencey version of why this happens (hormones crash, sleep debt is brutal), this Psychology Today piece lays it out way clearer than I ever could: Why Romance Tanks After Baby Arrives
Tiny Ridiculous Things That Actually Helped Us (Scorecard Edition)
Here’s what we’ve tried. Some worked. Some bombed spectacularly:
- The 8-minute make-out timer We literally set a phone timer for eight minutes and just kiss—no pressure for more. Eight minutes feels doable even when we both smell like baby wipes. We’ve hit snooze on life a few times and actually enjoyed it.
- Parent-coded thirst traps via text She sends me a mirror selfie in yoga pants folding laundry captioned “still worth it?” I fire back a gym selfie holding a laundry basket like a trophy “your move.” It’s corny as hell. We still grin like idiots across the kitchen.
- “Hotel” nights thirty minutes from home We drop both kids at my mom’s, book the cheapest decent Airbnb nearby, and pretend we’re people who can sleep in. We usually just crash hard, order Domino’s, and shower without anyone banging on the door yelling about Paw Patrol. Feels luxurious. This Parents.com article sells the mini-staycation idea better than I do: Why Short Getaways Save Marriages
- Phones go in the junk drawer at 9 p.m. No doomscrolling. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we stare at the ceiling in silence. Sometimes one of us is snoring before the drawer even closes. Either way, we’re in the same room without blue-light zombies between us.
Stuff I Still Mess Up (No Sugarcoating)
I still pout when she’s too exhausted for anything physical. Full-on sulky toddler energy. Then I feel like garbage because she carried our kids, feeds our kids, keeps our kids alive every single day while I complain about not getting laid enough. Real classy.
Also I used to think “spark” meant sex or big romantic gestures. Turns out it can just mean her laughing so hard at my dumb joke about the way our son now pronounces “yogurt” that milk comes out her nose. Those moments recharge me more than I ever expected.
If I Could Yell One Thing at Pre-Kid Us
Stop chasing the old sex life. Keep the Spark Alive That guy was fun but exhausting and honestly a little selfish. Build new tiny rituals instead: filthy whispers while brushing teeth, butt grabs in the hallway when the toddler isn’t looking, sending each other memes at 2 p.m. that just say “u still hot (derogatory)”.
Keeping the spark alive in marriage after kids mostly means you refuse to let the daily grind completely snuff it out. The flame flickers. Sometimes it almost dies. You just keep shielding it with your hands anyway.
