First off, I’d like to apologize for the horrid title of this post. It sounds exactly like something from “Saturday’s Warrior” or from the back of a t-shirt sold at Deseret Book. I didn’t realize it was that cheesy sounding until I re-read it and outwardly cringed a little. But I don’t want to think of a new title, so get used to it. (Keep in mind, however, that I am aware of how “Jack Weyland-esque” it sounds.)
I am officially an old marriage pro. I’ve been a wife for exactly two months now and I feel like some deep reflections/thoughts are in order. Try not to be overwhelmed by the complexity of my intellectual mind. Just kidding.
To me, the most surprising thing about married life is how incredibly not different it is.
I went into this marriage thing figuring I’d probably have to do a lot of adjusting. I assumed it would take me a while to comfortably share a bed, sheepishly reveal how quickly I actually burn through a box of Wheat Thins (seriously, even the family size box rarely resides more than 3 days in my cupboard) and resolutely start folding/putting away my laundry, instead of living out of the clean-clothes pile until it inevitably gets mixed back in with the dirty pile, causing lots of unnecessary wash cycles and the accidental wearing of stained shirts to work.
But surprisingly, married life has been remarkably similar to pre-married life. I get done with work and hang out with Brock just like before; but now I don’t ever have to go home. We wake up and Brock sees me with no makeup; but, for better or worse, that’s been a common sight since about a week into dating. Brock was already aware of my unique dance moves, atrocious driving record and tendency to wake up at 4 am to attend to unfinished business. (That all-important business being a partially watched Bachelor episode, of course.)Plus, our king sized bed could probably comfortable sleep a family of five, Brock eats as many, if not more, Wheat Thins as me and although my laundry habits aren’t yet where they should be, Brock has accepted the fact that for me, the hamper is a suitable and convenient place to store clean jeans. Mostly, I feel like the transition from Miss to Mrs. has been so smooth just because I have the coolest husband in the world, who (for reasons unknown) has fully accepted (even embraced, perhaps) all of my quirks and weird habits. Because I know he loves me no matter what, I haven’t felt the need to hide things, fake things, or hurriedly reform my personality.
This isn’t to say that I find it okay to accept my flaws, using the excuses that “I’m just being true to myself” and “this is just who I am.” I mean, if everyone had this attitude, the world would be ran by toddlers (which it actually kind of is anyway) and nobody would ever progress or improve. I full-well know that I need to continually work on myself and fix those things that bug me, disregarding the fact that I know my husband will love me unconditionally. This is nice to know though.
Basically, I am just really glad that Brock and I have both been so open and upfront with each other from the beginning. It’s not like either of us were harboring any deep dark secrets, or concealing incriminating skeletons in our closets. The shadiest moment of my life thus far was probably when I got caught calling my high school attendance office pretending to be my mom in an attempt to clear a handful (okay, a truckload) of unexcused absences. Unfortunately, I have the most distinct voice in the world and this pathetic act of delinquency cost me the student council election. (Although I still claim it was all “politics”-I won the popular vote, dang it! Just kidding.) Just knowing that Brock knows everything there is to know about me is so comforting. I never have to feel insecure, or worry that if he knew how I really was, he’d feel differently. Some would probably argue that I am too open. I mean, I did squat and pee in the trees by the Provo River on my first date with Brock. Ladylike? Definitely not. But hey, it sure helped break the ice! No “first time acknowledgment that you do this embarrassing, weird thing called going pee” situation there!
Brock has also gradually graced me with all of his finest quirks. Here are some of my favorites. First of all, Brock wraps medical tape around his glasses, to make them fit better. Not the nose bridge part, although that would be funnier and more cliché. He does, however wrap a nice wad around the ear hook part. I just make sure his hair is tucked nicely over it so our social lives are still okay. Apparently this next one is actually quite common, but Brock doesn’t enjoy pizza unless he stacks two pieces, cheese sides together, to make a sandwich. I always tell him it will be gone twice as fast, but apparently he doesn’t care. He is used to finishing his meals a good 45-50 minutes before me. Finally, Brock legitimately, in all seriousness, loves the hit LDS movie “Saturday’s Warrior”. I very regularly overhear him casually singing verses from it. Sometimes he substitutes Jimmy’s name with my own, making it very personal and fun. Ah, there you have it- the real reason for this post’s title. I’m sure my husband will love it.