Life as I now know it.

Today, as I settle into the couch with a good (or rather tolerable) book after a day of work and great workout in the pool, I am forced to recognize how life has changed.

The older man we passed on our walk by the beach.

Which, in the same strand, brings to mind the things that haven't changed. Like how unmanageable my hair becomes in the humidity. Or my tendency to over-organize. Or my inability to cook anything even slightly resembling food. This, I've learned from my mother, can be quickly remedied with dining accoutrements - fancy chopsticks, cute barbeque plates, etc.

But, even though I've emerged from my wedding and honeymoon with personality, character and flaws intact, I find my life altered. This isn't a huge shocker. Marriage is supposed to be life-altering. Still, my system is confused. I continue to feel as if Blake and I are playing house. As if we're going through our daily tasks in a partnership, but will wake up someday soon to the reality we've always known.

My new reality is one of setting the coffee maker's timer each night, trips to Bed, Bath & Beyond, and mailing rent checks. It forces me to get past Blake's own renditions of pop songs, and his dislike for seafood. My morning routine takes twice as long with a boy in the bathroom. The dishes never seem to get put away, and the car needs to be washed. More than any of these trivialities, marriage has set ablaze the small flame of excitement that has been flickering away to this point.

I worry, now, that I may not get to it all. What if I never enter an important media career in New York City? What if I never see France, or England, or Greece? What if I never finish my book list? What if I never learn any new languages? What if I don't have children? What if I can't grow old with my husband? One step at a time, Blake tells me. In years like this one, it's hard to catch a breath. But if I don't, I'll miss it.

So I'll capture every moment of our walks down at the West Haven beach. I'll enjoy baking my best friend breakfast cookies for her birthday that look like something a cat threw up (only Rachel could appreciate them). I'll love the moments when Blake and I get to work together, and appreciate even more our shared blueberry smoothies on a Wednesday night. This is life as I now know it, if only for a little while. This blog is about holding on to every moment.

West Haven boardwalk, which Blake fondly refers to as our "hood" (it's semi-ghetto)

Blueberry smoothie

Our kitchen


Rachel's birthday cookies... oops.

1 comment:

  1. they're totally fruit loops, aren't they?! Yes I am such a good guesser! derricious, rearry derricious. :-)


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