Friday, August 31, 2007
Welcome to Practicality.
Dear Kyle,
Last night was a first for us. In three years of marriage, we have spent most of those nights sleeping in the same, king-sized bed. Last night, however due to the fact that I am a forgetful person (and because I was reading Harry Potter), our sheets were still in the washing machine (read: not dry) when it came time to go to bed - a situation that I recognized too late to rectify. So we still slept together. And for some reason, we chose the smallest bed in the house. The smaller-than-twin bed was our place of rest for the evening. It's the softest bed in the house - my bed from before we were married. The twin sheets that I bought for it only fit the extra-small mattress because of the two layers of pink foam I added to give it the "sleeping in a cloud" effect that you so love to hate. It is divinely soft in a way that only I truly appreciate.
So I fell into a deep sleep pretty quickly. The warmth of the big, strong man I love next to me on the softest bed in the world. It was everything I imagined marriage would be.
And when I woke up at 2 am, in my favorite bed, still completely glued to your side, my first thought wasn't, "Gee, how nice it is to be married to someone who can keep my feet warm at night." But instead, "I'm FREEZING! Why must he always take the covers off of me and throw them on the floor!?!"
And when the alarm clock went off this morning, you bounced out of bed, ready to be released from Divine Discomfort and were a whopping 25 minutes EARLY to work. Unheard of. Must've been as uncomfortable for you as it was for me.
And this might be the picture of marriage for some people. High expectations of romance and roses and candles and cuddling and laughing and affectionate love for a lifetime. And it is those things. But it's also fighting, and paying bills, and dogs pooping in places they shouldn't poop, and waking up next to an extremely smelly person thinking, "Really? Is this what I signed up for?"
Three years ago today, we made the command decision to move our wedding from Saturday to Friday, because of an imminent hurricane. It was the joke of those around us that 'this was a sign of things to come'. In their "joke", they meant to imply that it was an indication of the stormy nature of our relationship.
I translated it differently, however. I choose to believe that it was a true analogy of our ability to stand together through whatever comes our way. And three years is only the beginning.
I love you.
Rita
Last night was a first for us. In three years of marriage, we have spent most of those nights sleeping in the same, king-sized bed. Last night, however due to the fact that I am a forgetful person (and because I was reading Harry Potter), our sheets were still in the washing machine (read: not dry) when it came time to go to bed - a situation that I recognized too late to rectify. So we still slept together. And for some reason, we chose the smallest bed in the house. The smaller-than-twin bed was our place of rest for the evening. It's the softest bed in the house - my bed from before we were married. The twin sheets that I bought for it only fit the extra-small mattress because of the two layers of pink foam I added to give it the "sleeping in a cloud" effect that you so love to hate. It is divinely soft in a way that only I truly appreciate.
So I fell into a deep sleep pretty quickly. The warmth of the big, strong man I love next to me on the softest bed in the world. It was everything I imagined marriage would be.
And when I woke up at 2 am, in my favorite bed, still completely glued to your side, my first thought wasn't, "Gee, how nice it is to be married to someone who can keep my feet warm at night." But instead, "I'm FREEZING! Why must he always take the covers off of me and throw them on the floor!?!"
And when the alarm clock went off this morning, you bounced out of bed, ready to be released from Divine Discomfort and were a whopping 25 minutes EARLY to work. Unheard of. Must've been as uncomfortable for you as it was for me.
And this might be the picture of marriage for some people. High expectations of romance and roses and candles and cuddling and laughing and affectionate love for a lifetime. And it is those things. But it's also fighting, and paying bills, and dogs pooping in places they shouldn't poop, and waking up next to an extremely smelly person thinking, "Really? Is this what I signed up for?"
Three years ago today, we made the command decision to move our wedding from Saturday to Friday, because of an imminent hurricane. It was the joke of those around us that 'this was a sign of things to come'. In their "joke", they meant to imply that it was an indication of the stormy nature of our relationship.
I translated it differently, however. I choose to believe that it was a true analogy of our ability to stand together through whatever comes our way. And three years is only the beginning.
I love you.
Rita
Labels: family, Marriage, The Hubby
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