smeedav mall marmy
I've always considered myself fairly independent, and absolutely introverted. I even threw around the "loner" label during my late teens and early twenties. Even when I did decide to start dating, I was firmly set in the notion of being the only (human) body occupying my bed each night. And yet...
I find such a subtle, warm, supportive calm that comes with marriage. It's been 41 days, and there has been bickering and weirdness and anxiety, but also hope. Hope that the next 41 days, 41 years, will be alright. That shit can happen and you can still come home and be loved.
My world doesn't even remotely resemble where I was a year ago. Hell, it doesn't even look like where I was in February. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, and I'm still trying to catch my breath from it all. But I got through it, and I will continue to get through it.
I've been home sick the last two days - I probably should have stayed home on Halloween but I didn't because it was Halloween and I love Halloween so of course I was going to work dressed in my Minnie Mouse ensemble. I was in bed all of yesterday, which made last night extremely rough, which meant I wasn't capable of anything this morning. I really did intend to go to work today. I'm going to try harder to stay awake the remainder of today, just so I can get to bed and hopefully make it to the Mary Kay training tomorrow morning.
Troy hasn't settled into his routine yet, so he usually comes home and crashes. Hard. Which is fine, he definitely needs the sleep. But it sucks that I usually get home at six, we snooze until seven thirty or later, have a bite to eat and clean up, have a hot beverage, then get ready for bed. We really need to find a way to get enough sleep without wasting away early evening hours.
Last night was my turn to cook, and since I was in bed sick all day I didn't have anything on hand, and since we didn't get up officially until almost eight, it turned out to be a Del Taco night. I didn't ever go to Del Taco before I met Troy, and I do believe it's starting to grow on me. We ordered so much food it was comical, and I tried to tell him that we had ordered enough to "feed a small army" but because I have only barely started to learn how to talk it came out "smeedav mall marmy" and now anytime we sleep in the evening too long we get to have a smeedav mall marmy night.
I don't really remember playing with dolls all that much growing up. I babied and cared for my stuffed animals. And every Halloween when we would get our pumpkins, I would baby and sing to and rock my little pumpkin. I'd wash it and cuddle it and was generally obnoxious about my little pumpkin baby. I told all of this to Troy and made sure the pumpkins we got were showered in love because they were our pumpkin babies. I took a shower with them to wash them off and cradled them and spoke kindly to them and Troy is one lucky guy let me tell you.
We were discussing how sad it is to watch carved pumpkins shrivel up and rot. I had an idea on Wednesday that it become our tradition on November 1st that we have a smashing pumpkin ceremony, to ease our pumpkin babies into their next life a little bit quicker. Troy was cool with that, because hey, smashing things! So after our pseudo-Mexican delicacies were consumed and cleaned up, we went outside and forcibly threw the pumpkin babies into the street. It was pretty much awesome and I look forward to many years of this tradition.
I find such a subtle, warm, supportive calm that comes with marriage. It's been 41 days, and there has been bickering and weirdness and anxiety, but also hope. Hope that the next 41 days, 41 years, will be alright. That shit can happen and you can still come home and be loved.
My world doesn't even remotely resemble where I was a year ago. Hell, it doesn't even look like where I was in February. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, and I'm still trying to catch my breath from it all. But I got through it, and I will continue to get through it.
I've been home sick the last two days - I probably should have stayed home on Halloween but I didn't because it was Halloween and I love Halloween so of course I was going to work dressed in my Minnie Mouse ensemble. I was in bed all of yesterday, which made last night extremely rough, which meant I wasn't capable of anything this morning. I really did intend to go to work today. I'm going to try harder to stay awake the remainder of today, just so I can get to bed and hopefully make it to the Mary Kay training tomorrow morning.
Troy hasn't settled into his routine yet, so he usually comes home and crashes. Hard. Which is fine, he definitely needs the sleep. But it sucks that I usually get home at six, we snooze until seven thirty or later, have a bite to eat and clean up, have a hot beverage, then get ready for bed. We really need to find a way to get enough sleep without wasting away early evening hours.
Last night was my turn to cook, and since I was in bed sick all day I didn't have anything on hand, and since we didn't get up officially until almost eight, it turned out to be a Del Taco night. I didn't ever go to Del Taco before I met Troy, and I do believe it's starting to grow on me. We ordered so much food it was comical, and I tried to tell him that we had ordered enough to "feed a small army" but because I have only barely started to learn how to talk it came out "smeedav mall marmy" and now anytime we sleep in the evening too long we get to have a smeedav mall marmy night.
I don't really remember playing with dolls all that much growing up. I babied and cared for my stuffed animals. And every Halloween when we would get our pumpkins, I would baby and sing to and rock my little pumpkin. I'd wash it and cuddle it and was generally obnoxious about my little pumpkin baby. I told all of this to Troy and made sure the pumpkins we got were showered in love because they were our pumpkin babies. I took a shower with them to wash them off and cradled them and spoke kindly to them and Troy is one lucky guy let me tell you.
We were discussing how sad it is to watch carved pumpkins shrivel up and rot. I had an idea on Wednesday that it become our tradition on November 1st that we have a smashing pumpkin ceremony, to ease our pumpkin babies into their next life a little bit quicker. Troy was cool with that, because hey, smashing things! So after our pseudo-Mexican delicacies were consumed and cleaned up, we went outside and forcibly threw the pumpkin babies into the street. It was pretty much awesome and I look forward to many years of this tradition.