As most loyal Gingermermaid fans know (too strong a word? just readers?), I was recently made an honest woman by the man who knocked me up. We had a shotgun wedding, but in a gun control sorta way—sans firearms.
People have asked me how my first week of married life is, and I respond that it’s a lot like single life. Mr. Gingermermaid isn’t moving into my apartment till October, when his lease is up at his place about an hour away from me but 55 minutes closer to his work. So for right now it’s just me and the cat. Normally I would see him more, if not daily, but the day after our ceremony, he had to go to Georgia for his job and there he remains for the interim.
So, yes, married life is a lot like single life for this chick except I got some bling-bling on my left hand.
*Note, by single life I don’t mean bachelorette life. I mean “living solo.”
As a newlywed, I actually want to be around my husband. We haven’t been married long enough yet to get sick of each other. His stupid work trip thing really sucks especially when I’m all pregnant and needy and gooey-eyed.
It’s given me time to reflect on this whirlwind trip that has been our relationship and some of the little things I miss about him now, and will likely be super irked by in the near future.
My favorite feature of my man’s appearance is the little gap between his two front teeth. Not quite Madonna-sized, but still there. He’s a little self-conscious about it, but I find it adorably unique, demonstrating that he’s not quite perfect like his wife. He also has a little dimple in his chin, although he has a beard now so it’s camouflaged. I like to find it and press it with my finger as if it’s a button (a button to do my bidding!).
When he and I began dating, one of the characteristics that both repelled and attracted me to my other half was his lack of suaveness. If it’s awkward and inappropriate, this guy says/does it. Especially if he gets nervous. After our first few dates, on more than one occasion, when recapping the adventure to his friends, they replied, “yep, you’re never going to hear from her again.” Although mortified by some of the word vomit that spewed forth, I stuck around; some of his dumber quips/shenanigans are my favorite memories to conjure up.
We have our own secret language we communicate with one another, and, at this point in my life, where I find I’m having a hard time adjusting to my new identity and trying to maintain my former self, he is the only one who truly understands me and what I’m going through. He’s in the same boat—he just gets to remain slimmer. With him gone this first week after our wedding, it’s been difficult. He’s become the rock I rest my woes on and the light I wake up to.
I don’t want to divulge too much mushy stuff about my hubby bubby and what he means to me, that would make any reader reaching for some Pepto and also, that stuff is way intimate and he reads this blog…
As I am now in my third trimester, anticipating this baby’s uncomfortable entrance into the world, I also wait for my husband to arrive and sweeping me up in a labored catch with a space between his smile. I do hope that our little boy, when he grows up, or while he’s growing up, is just like his daddy, with a little gap between his teeth and all.