The tuxedo has been selected and reserved for rental, the hotel suite is paid for, and things are in motion. In less than thirty days I will be a “Mrs.”. One of my girlfriends asked me if I was ready for that title. I can honestly say that I am. With statistics on marriage still bleak at best, and friends of mine getting separated and divorced left and right, I’m surprisingly optimistic about our pending nuptials.
Sure there are things that bug me about my soon to be husband: He makes annoying noises when he eats, and no matter where I place the laundry baskets, his soiled clothing never seems to make it in. There are other things, but after two years of cohabitation and two beautiful children born out of love (and wedlock), I’ve learned to live with, and even love all of his idiosyncrasies – and I believe that he loves mine (if any actually exist. Ha!).
Partnership, I’ve discovered, is about compromise – Not that I’m an expert, but I think we’ve got a pretty good system going on over here in our household. I’ve accepted my roles as “wife” and “caretaker” along with everything that comes along with those titles – including wiping snotty noses and dirty backsides. (And I haven’t even started on the things I do for the kids. ;))
My biggest hope is that after everything is said and done, and the dust has cleared from our whirlwind weekend, I won’t be looking back at this post and thinking of the way it was. Hopefully I’ll be looking at how things are and how they’ll always be… till death do us part.