Life in the Trenches

Seven years ago, on a surprisingly warm and sunny March morning, I married the boy I had spent a summer falling in love with.  We moved ourselves and the few possessions we owned into a one bedroom, yellow brick fourplex complete with a green and yellow kitchen.  After seeing what else our price range had to offer, I felt that we had done pretty well for ourselves in finding that humble abode, just a few blocks south of Old Main Hill.  Truth be told, it wasn't much to write home about and we only lasted one year with no form of air conditioning and a crazy downstairs neighbor.  But in those first few days, weeks, and months we were blissfully happy.  We didn't care that our apartment was small or that we had little money.  We were simply happy to be together, doing our best to learn the ways of balancing school, work, checkbooks, and mealtime.  Our complete monthly budget was equivalent to what we now pay in rent, I could hardly cook a thing (though I did try), and we enjoyed carefree weekends spent traveling or hanging out with friends.  Sometimes life felt hard, and I am sure in lots of ways it was, considering neither of us had ever been through any kind of real personal tragedy in our young lives.  We were innocent, and probably a little naive, but we were happy and in love.

This year we spent our anniversary dividing and conquering.  It was Sunday, but besides the usual choir practices and lesson preparations we had sick kids.  It was decided that I would do the church stuff and Ryan would stay home with the kids.  The rest of the day was full of diaper changes, potty accidents, and uneaten meals thrown all over the floor.  A freak storm rolled in just as I returned from church, knocking out our power for over 3 hours just around dinnertime.  As a result we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, and spent those hours wrestling and reading with our girls by the fireplace.  March 3, 2013 was spent like any other day, down in the trenches working our way through what the day had to offer.  Seven years after that blissful morning it feels that we are officially in the throes of adulthood.  There are bills, lots of bills; dance lessons and preschool sign-ups; full-time jobs and church callings.  This is the life that, at the beginning, we were so excited to forge for ourselves.  And suddenly, here we are.  I guess it hasn't always felt so sudden.  The long hours of professional school, the agonizing moments of grief, the fear of the unknown; have all made up the hours, months, and years that brought us here.

Between parents, siblings, and cousins; we attended quite a few weddings last year.  I always left each ceremony more grateful for my husband than before, but also a little nostalgic.  I longed for the “easier” times, when homework and our weekend plans seemed to be the epitome of our concerns.  We lived near our families, my dad was alive, and the possibilities for our future seemed endless.  But I always came back to where we are now-  older, wiser, and with two little souls depending on us.  Life is more complicated, but it is more beautiful because we know and understand each other on a deeper level.  Together we have overcome sorrows and achieved dreams, and we now look to the future with the same vision: more children, advancing in our careers, and doing good with the things the Lord has blessed us with.  

I think I am finally realizing that we are living those plans we once had.  We now have the job we worked so hard to get and the children we never knew we could love so much.  Sure, sometimes I miss those early days; who doesn't on occasion look back with fondness and maybe a little longing at sweet moments in their lives?  But I love being right here, making precious memories with my family and navigating the sometimes tricky path life takes us on.  I don’t think I ever dreamed that seven years later our lives could be so grueling and so sweet at the very same time, but together with that boy of mine, we are embracing every part.