As wonderful as the wedding and honeymoon were, I was looking forward to getting back to “normal”. I was returning to university in the fall and Mike was returning to work at the radio station where I would also continue to work as much as possible once I had my course-load settled. We’d be fine. Financially, there wasn’t much of a difference than before we were married. The money Mike spent traveling back and forth between his place and mine would now be spent on rent and groceries. We were gonna be ok.
After returning home I still had a week or so before classes started. This gave me the chance to get the apartment settled. It was fun to be able to go through all of our wedding gifts again. Holy smokes, we received a TON of stuff! I had no idea where I was going to put it all. There was nothing that I had to go out and buy. (**Seriously, 15 years later we were still taking new linens out of the linen closet and I opened the last set of bedding we had from our wedding! Hhhmmmm, maybe it’s time for another shower or reception so we can restock! Oh well, our 25th is only 8 years away…LOL!)
There wasn’t a huge adjustment period for us getting used to living with one another. The last year and a half while we dated Mike spent most night sleeping on the couch in our rec room anyway. The 25 minute drive from my house to his just didn’t seem worth it when most times he’d be getting out of bed and heading over again, anyway.
The major adjustment came from living underneath my parents. Now don’t get me wrong. It really did work well (otherwise there is no way we would have been there for 7 years!) but there were times, let me tell you!! Mom and Dad still wanted to know everything that was going on with us, and in the beginning I wanted to still tell them. They were my parents, I told them everything — well not everything! My mother (God love her) and my father both, but mostly Mom, had opinions about everything that we did. If we dared to come home with something new that looked even a little bit expensive, Mom had a snit on her face. She couldn’t NOT ask how much money we spent or what we felt we needed that for.
Herein started the arguments. *sigh* And I am ashamed to admit that 99.9%, well maybe not that much, but I bet you a good 95% of the arguments we have ever had over the last 17 years were thanks to little ol’ me, here. In the beginning I was hell-bent on trying to please Mom and Dad. They, of course, were my parents and I did still live under their roof, after all. WRONG METHOD OF THINKING! Unfortunately, this method of thinking led to many hours of useless bickering and out and out verbal fights in our lives. Thinking back now, I was such an idiot. BUT, in my own defense, my philosophy seemed logical at the time.
See, as much as Mom, Dad and I fought when I was growing up, I idolized them both. More so Dad than Mom. I was Daddy’s Little Girl. Dad was my Hero. He was everything I grew to admire in a man. I wanted my husband to be just like him. He was a hard worker, he was very well known and respected in our community and he knew more people than I could ever possible hope to know. If he wanted (or needed) something doe, he did it. He knew how to do everything. He never had to get anyone to do anything for him. He was amazing! He was an electrician by trade, but there was nothing he couldn’t do. He built many houses, he was very smart and was involved in many outside organizations. And Mom – well she was just Superwoman. She was a SAHM her entire life. Our home was always spotless. Her job was taking care of her family, and she did it better than anyone I knew.
I don’t know if I
wanted needed their approval, or what. But it was to the point that I basically included them in every facet of our lives. They knew what we were doing, when we were doing it and any time we had an issue I had to run it by them first. You can begin to see why my husband would have trouble with this. I would constantly compare Mike to Dad. The two of them are very similar in so many ways, but there are naturally ways in which they are very different. Mike is not as “hand’s-on” as my Dad is. I don’t know if after living with Dad for so long and seeing so much of my family just know how to “do” stuff, I figured every guy was like that or what, but it near drove me nuts that Mike couldn’t just fix things or turn his hand to whatever had to be done. I struggled with this for a long time. Many years, in fact.
More times than not – in the beginning – Mike would just let me spout off. I can only imagine how I made him feel at times. I could be pretty nasty when I wanted to be. There would be nights he’d go to work with a headache bad enough to cripple and elephant, I’m sure. But, we always got through it. 9 times out of 10 he’d end up bowing to me and conceding just to keep the peace, I have no doubt.
Again, hindsight is 20/20. Given the chance to live it all over, now that I’m older and have 17 years more experience behind me I certainly know I caused a lot of turmoil for nothing. However, everything that we have gone through has brought us to where we are today.
Have things gotten any easier? In some ways, yes. But unbeknownst to me the trials and tribulations were just beginning.
There is still the whole work fiasco ahead of us. Arguing over my parents would soon become the least of our problems.
Until next time…