There are subtle changes, here in our post-remarriage lives, that I rarely think about. The big changes are easy, of course. But the little things sort of creep up on a person.
Like how I never put away laundry anymore, fully believing that the Laundry Fairy will be along to tidy up after me. Or that I can wash everything and fold it and declare, “Look! I did the laundry!” and then after it sits in our bedroom in the baskets for three days, Otto will put it away for me. Whatever.
Or like how I plan certain meals and buy certain foods because I know Otto really likes them. I mean, it’s not that we never ate pork chops before (mmmm… hog fat…), it’s just that it wasn’t typically something I’d seek out. But he likes them, and so now I look for them. (Last night we had apricot-glazed chops and all approved.)
So last night after the kids had gone to bed, Otto and I were here in the office, each toiling away at our respective computers, when it became clear that my typing was aggravating Otto. Okay; in fairness, he needed to record some audio. So it wasn’t OHMYGOD YOUR TYPING IS ANNOYING but a matter of needing silence for what he wanted to do. And once this was pointed out, I told him that I had just one thing to finish and then I’d be done in the office and he could do his recording.
And then a minute later I asked him for some photos I need for a project, and he sent them over, and I finished what I was doing and started working on another project. After a while, Otto got up and left the office, but I was working and not paying any attention.
Until I realized that he’d been gone for, like, an hour.
I got up and found him sitting in our bedroom with his laptop, recording the audio in the silence. And then I got all huffy because he didn’t tell me (or ask me to please relocate), and I felt badly that I’d completely forgotten that he was waiting for me to finish, and all of this caused me to sputter something about how HE SHOULD’VE JUST SAID SOMETHING. And he said no, it’s my office, and I should be able to keep working in there; and I said no, it’s OUR office, and I could’ve moved into the living room or the bedroom.
Then we realized that actually, this wasn’t argument-worthy. (Few things are.)
By that time, it was late, and so we got ready for bed and lay there in the dark chatting, as we do, and Otto brought up an event he’d like to go participate in next month—a road rally, and if you know what that is, you can be a car geek with my husband—and I said that sounded fine, and then he said “I haven’t done a rally in almost two years.”
And I said, “No, that’s not right. You’ve been to several events since we got married!” And I struggled to remember, first bringing up a couple of events where he worked rather than ran (oops) and finally, triumphantly, pointing out a race I KNEW he’d run in Vermont.
“Um, that was before we got married,” Otto said.
“No it wasn’t! It was…” I did some mental math, while Otto calmly pointed out various surrounding events as a time reference. “… before we got married. Wow.”
“Yep,” he said.
“Wow,” I said again. “Time sure flies when you’re… spending all of your money on lawyers and renovations.” And we laughed, not because the last year and a half HASN’T been fun, in addition to those other things, but because it was funny, anyway, to view the last eighteen months as having passed quickly in the midst of some of the more torturous events of our recent history.
We chatted for a while, as we do, about various things. And I chastised Otto about… something. Something so DREADFULLY IMPORTANT that I can’t even remember what it is, now (and neither can Otto; I called to ask). As these things usually go, after some discussion he hit me with his usual long-suffering retort, which is, “WHY did you marry me, again?”
“Because I LOVE YOU,” I said, throwing an arm across his chest. “And also because you have a really big… LENS!”
This declaration was greeted with… silence.
“What?” I goaded him, poking for emphasis. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
He paused a moment more, before saying, “I’m trying to decide if that was foreplay.”
“Well, did you bring your camera to bed?”
“Then no. Goodnight, Otto!”
What can I say? We’re a classic story of romance.
I bet tonight he brings the camera.
Awww, it’s those sorts of moments that love is made of. My husband and I are not an overly romantic couple, never have been but some of our best and most loving moments are more funny than romantic (including his proposal). It works.
OH, I made the meatballs last night and OMG my toddler that never eats meat ate THREE! Will certainly be making those again. (of course he probably won’t ever eat them again, but I gotta try)
Love it :] Sometimes, after two years of marriage, those moments when we are just a couple that fits together so well, I realize that this is what a real relationship is, not just the mad crazy phase early on when you can’t keep your hands off one another. It’s this comfort and deep, abiding love, where your spouse is so much a part of your life that it’s hardly possible to remember things before “you” became a part of “us”, that’s the true reason marriage is so great!
I’m finding that pillow talk is the most satisfying of conversations that Stephen and I have. The dark makes it all so, so, comfortable. Even uncomfortable subjects are easier.
Hey…my DH loves doing road rallys, too…poor thing…the girls in this house don’t enjoy cars AT ALL…hopefully, Otto and Monkey will be able to share that “car thing”. :-)
Great post, and BTW, great interview on the podcast! And I love the sound of your voice. (yeah, I know we all hate our own but yours sounds good to me!)
i thought that was a very sweet and nicely written post! yay for 18 moths of togetherness and many more!! :)
You two truly seem to be a good fit.
You’ve come a long way, baby, and thankfully, it ain’t because you chose the right cigarette! ;)
I love how the two of you are proving to the world that sweet and romantic DOES exist in real life. Yes, there will be disagreements and hiccups, but underneath lies such a strong current of love and respect. It’s a beautiful love story you’re writing, Mir.
The best is yet to come.
I saw his lens in the video from your book signing. It is really big! Definitely worth marrying for.
LOL. My hubby would have taken that as foreplay whether it was or not…
He’s just that…ummmm…loving…hehe.
I think my husband would have taken the very fact that I was awake and lying next to him in bed as foreplay. I can’t believe Otto just said “Good night dear.”
I bet he didn’t…
That was hilarious! I don’t laugh out loud often but on that one I did!
Sounds like something my husband would say as well!
I think it’s pretty cool that you were arguing that you each didn’t think you were generous enough to the other, rather than the other way around. I’d say that is a sign of a healthy marriage.
Say it with me now…D’awwww!!!
I want a marriage like that one day. (I think my boyfriend would definitely be a suitable candidate for this purpose. Now if only he would just start thinking that marriage is his idea… lol)
My husband and I are in a bit of a Valley right now. So your post made me smile and grimace both.
This is such a cute story! Every couple should get along so well.
I tried those meatballs, too. I made them right before my playdate, and then AFTER the playdate, they had all burned up. I think my new crockpot is over-mighty…I wil say this: all afternoon, before they became little carbonated golfballs, they SMELLED great.
I shall try again.
Heh… most men would’ve just assumed it was foreplay.
I love Otto. I love you and Otto. I love marriage, when it’s right.
I’m glad the both of you know you were made for eachother. That is so sweet. I wish I could figure out if I was made for my husband and vice versa. The suspense IS KILLING ME!
My husband is hoping to go to a road rally very soon too. I wonder if it’s the same one?
My husband, like some of the other commenters, thinks everything is foreplay. If we had the same conversation it would have ended with my hubby leaping out of bed and very happily grabbing the camera.
“Then we realized that actually, this wasnâ€™t argument-worthy. (Few things are.)”
Your dad is right.
<—on the other side of 10 years of marriage. So I know whereof I speak :)