So, being two weeks into marriage, I’m basically an expert.
Rule #1: When you disagree about something, let the hubs know that you understand where he’s coming from. Most of the time, at least from my perspective, a small part of his objection is that he wants you to affirm that he has a reasonable and valid opinion (albeit different from yours). He doesn’t want you to think he’s being crazy or irrational.
Rule #2: Just because it was your apartment first doesn’t mean that things will remain the same way. And by “things,” I mean physical objects, and by “the same way,” I mean in the same place. Suddenly, the paper towels will migrate about the kitchen and the remotes will be forever lost in the couch cushions no matter how many times you replace them back on the coffee table (where they are supposed to go, or at least used to). Nevertheless, my OCD nature just has to suck it up sometimes. I’ve got a boy in the house, and its advantages far outweigh the comfort of knowing that the toothpaste will be in the exact place that you left it. (Side note: the same goes for my other single rituals, such as always pulling the shower curtain closed after a shower and unplugging the toaster after each use. Yes, I am that person.)
Rule #3: Be careful with his stuff. Just a week into married life, I damaged his beloved portable external hard drive, which is his baby. I was watching Trueblood (which is incredibly addicting by the way) with the computer on the kitchen counter and the hard drive plugged in. When I turned the screen to see it better, the hard drive slipped off the counter and fell to its death. I expected to hear it say “Fly, you fools!” and then not really be dead, but sadly this was no Gandalf. I felt so ashamed, but Logan understood and didn’t even raise his voice…he actually told his friends that it was his fault, which was sweet but completely untrue. Lesson Learned.
Rule #4: Marriage means you have to work ten times harder to eat healthy. The truth is, I’m incredibly happy being married to Logan–and cliches are cliches for a reason, so “fat and happy” has some meaning to it. Of course, it doesn’t help that all this devilishly enticing food has appeared in my home since he moved in…Magnum ice cream bars, for example.
That Double Caramel Belgian Chocolate sinfulness was one of the best things I’ve ever put into my mouth. But it was also 320 Calories and 20 grams of fat (more than a Lean Cuisine…maybe it’s dumb, but that’s how I convince myself not to eat something terrible when I really, really want it). Despite the jokes I’ve made to Logan about gaining 60 pounds after the wedding, such aspirations are not truly intended. It’s just that every day feels like a special occasion when you live with your best friend, so you have to be extra careful about your diet–especially when that friend already has a diet of Snack Packs and Toaster Strudel. I’m doing okay–I’ve had a couple of salads, and Logan put some whole grain waffles in the grocery cart. But I’ve also had a small piece of wedding cake almost every day for the past week.
Just some thoughts and observations. I hope my life has added some amusement to your day. We are still getting used to this whole “marriage” thing, honestly, but it doesn’t hurt to comment on it.