Marriage and stepmoming are kind of awesome. But I’ve also found them to be like a new
pair of jeans that fit a little snug.
They have all the awesome sparkles that fancy jeans do, the hugs and
kisses and Friday’s pizza and movies, but they also have a little muffin top
and waste squeezing when I sit. You
know, the no-more-alone time and crazy, talking-through- the-tough-stuff-after-10:00
nights that leave me exhausted.
I married the first time right out of college. Because we did not have kids (a long, tragic
story), and after a few years spent very
little time together in any meaningful way, I had a lot of time on my own. I developed lots of habits and routines that
didn’t really involve anyone else but me.
Later, after the divorce, I began to develop more of a social life, but
I still had plenty of freedom to relax and veg as I wanted.
All of that changed after the “I do”s. Team Matt and Laura actually do most things
as a team, and I love it. We clean
together, work together, and play together.
When Isabelle is with us, we go hard.
Whether doing homework or packing in the fun, we are always on the
go. My jeans are fabulously sparkly.
On the other hand, some of that alone time I used to have…well…I
miss it. I miss having the opportunity
to sit in front of the television and watch four back-to-back episodes of Criminal Minds while crocheting the next
niece or nephew afghan. I miss a lazy
Saturday sleeping in followed by Starbucks and a leisurely mani/pedi . It makes me feel like I need to suck in my
gut.
So I’ve been learning recently how to stretch the seams a
little. I’ve discovered the mystery
behind my mom friend’s glee at getting to go grocery shopping alone. The first time I found myself walking the HEB
aisles solo I felt strangely liberated.
Besides that, I’d picked up a grande, nonfat, no whip, three pump mocha
along the way. I’ve also learned that on
the nights when Matt has HOA board meetings or some other commitment, those are
my nights to be vegetable like.
And then there is the commute. From home to work takes about 45 minutes
depending on the traffic. Rather than
the drag I imagined it would be, it’s become a morning gear up and afternoon
wind down opportunity. A couple times a
week it is also prime time for talking to my mom, hands free of course.
Every day and week we are married, these fabulous, sparkle-butt
jeans (as my sweet math friend calls them) begin to get a little more
comfortable. I find ways to grab moments
I need for renewal that give them a little stretch. Of course they always get a little snug again
in the wash, but I’m beginning to have more confidence that each time, with a
little wear, they will loosen. I suspect
that they will eventually become that favorite, go to pair that feel like home.
