A Kept Woman

Today we celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary. That is such an amazing feat, at least to me, considering that I am not yet 30 (one month and counting!) and have already been married 9 years. Not just that, but today we celebrated those amazing 9 years in Ireland. We spent four of those nine years just trying to get here!

There are a few conundrums to our union, not the least of which is that I hate cuddling. And he loves to cuddle. And you'd think in a marriage, this would be a difficult thing to overcome. And yet, because of love, there are days when the world stops for the brief few moments that my head rests between his clavicle and shoulder. It just fits there perfectly. I believe God made it (him) just for my head (me).

And then there's the kiddos. I'm stunted for words when I think about it. There's a quote from a Doris Lessing short story (To Room Nineteen). The anthology I have that this story is in is still in America, so I don't have the quote perfect, but essentially it's the wonder of love, marriage and family: that all this (kids, house, home, life, family) came into existence because two people fell in love. The short story actually is quite depressing, so there's nothing else really from the story that reflects our marriage, except that one idea. But it's a mesmerizing notion just the same.

On my spouse's nifty facebook page, it says: [he] thinks it has been 9 years of blessed imperfection. I think that's all we can really ask for.