One Year, One Month, Handful of Days

Last month was our first anniversary, and I swear I didn’t forget about it! I’ve just been neglecting the blog. So anyway, now that I’ve been married one year, I found that I am suddenly <sarcasm> the Fount of All Wisdom and now have Useful Tips and Profound Musings </sarcasm>.

The main thing I learned is that no matter how painful or annoying or frustrating marriage is, it is better than being single. Having been single and relatively happy about it for many years, I never thought I would hear myself say that, but it’s true. It may not be true for all people, but it has been true for me.

Second thing: I’m wrong a lot! Actually, I’m wrong all the time! And it’s not the end of the world.

Third thing: A common goal helps so much. Whichever anonymous philosopher said that marriage wasn’t staring into each other’s eyes but staring together into the future was right.

Fourth thing: To the people who said the first year is the hardest… I don’t know how I’m supposed to know that until I get to the end of my life and compare the first year to all the other years of marriage.

Fifth thing: What mostly led us into disagreements was the fact that our families are so different. I come from a more introverted family, and his is far more extroverted than I’m used to. To this day, we are still trying to reconcile this. I don’t really have any Useful Tips here except that you need to remember the reason that you liked your significant other’s family in the first place. And there is a reason! You might just be too annoyed to remember it at the moment!

Sixth thing: There really is less room for selfishness. Being married doesn’t cure you of selfishness (duh), but it makes you question your selfishness and gives you a chance to push it aside.

Seventh thing, because the list wouldn’t be complete without seven: Patience. If you don’t have it, you will learn it. If you thought you were patient before, you really weren’t. Patience may also be called “the grace of marriage,” and that is something that comes from somewhere other than my husband or me.

The Logitech Gaming Keyboard

I haven’t played computer games for fun since I was in high school, and even then, I was never a serious player. But I recently got a gaming keyboard from my dad, and typing on it is an experience.

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This keyboard is loud. Really loud. Especially compared to the keyboard I had before it, which was designed to be quieter. I suppose the loudness of the keyboard is supposed to make the user feel more important, like every keystroke has weight. Or so a gamer feels more badass when he blows up a demon. I’m not really sure. It also doesn’t have a numeric keypad on the right side, so it’s more compact than your normal keyboard, but I think I would rather have the keypad than not have it (for the three times in a month that I actually use it).

The keyboard includes software that enables the user to change the colors of the keys, so you can literally make it any color of the rainbow, or multiple colors all at once. This feature is almost totally useless to me because the only thing I want to do on a keyboard is type. I’m not going to sit there and admire the thing in between typing sessions.

But I really needed a new keyboard, and my dad gave this one to me for free, so I am stuck with it until it dies (and watch it live forever). 🙂

Have you ever tried a gaming keyboard?

First Comes Love…

The inevitable happened. You remember that rhyme you used to sing when you were in elementary school, the one that went “first comes love, then comes marriage”? The thing that, in tradition, happens after marriage has happened to me.

My first thought was that I majorly screwed up, and I internally heard laughter at the joke (which I now relate to completely) that goes “What do you call people who use the ‘rhythm method’? Parents.”* My immediate second thought was “I’m married… isn’t this what’s supposed to happen?” My third thought was about how much tinier our 600 square foot apartment was about to become. Then I tried to stop thinking altogether and called the ob/gyn. It took a couple weeks for the morning sickness to kick in, and I am fortunate that it never got as bad as some women supposedly have it. I never actually got sick, but I got darn near close to it, and I was so tired that all I wanted to do after work was flop down on the couch and sleep (which I did on most days).

The exhaustion lifted slightly after the 12th week or so, along with the nausea. But I still wasn’t able to get happy about the whole situation. I’m Catholic, so I’m supposed to be all joyful about this little soul that God deigned to put in my weak human body. Man, was it hard to be joyful. Every now and then, the joy would come, but the next second I’d be back to kicking myself for what I perceived as ultimately a birth control failure. We should’ve been like one of those couples with great self-control that somehow manages to use NFP successfully for the first five years of the marriage, then has a kid in “God’s perfect timing.” Nope, we’re just regular people after all. The ideals have fallen yet again. So I have been contenting myself with the clichĂ©: “Nobody is ever ready to be a parent. You just do it.”

I’m trying to tell myself that we didn’t fail and that this is in fact a great success (and, you selfish thing, you better think about all the people who desperately want children and can’t have them), but my perfectionist nature is reluctant to buy it. The reality is that now is the time to let go of my perfectionist nature once and for all. I’ve been telling myself that it’s OK if the dishes don’t get done the second after we eat or that the apartment isn’t going to burst into flames if I don’t vacuum exactly on schedule. Or if someone emails me at work, I don’t have to get back to them within the next five seconds. Not to mention that I’ll traumatize my son (and probably my husband, too) for life if I keep being such a perfectionist.

All this life-changing craziness started in April, which means a little more than I’m halfway there. Then in January, we’ll hopefully have a healthy, crying, screaming little creature to be responsible for, for the next 18 years and beyond. Scary? Hell yeah. Fun? Yes, from what I hear. But marriage is my vocation, and with it comes children, as the rhyme goes. So my life’s true mission has begun. 🙂

As a side note, I’m not sure what will become of this blog in the meantime and after January. I’ve been using it less and less, even though the actual desire to write has not left me. I won’t ever delete the blog, but I may not keep my own domain. I’ll try to post every now and then, but I doubt it will be regular at all. I want to try really hard not to be someone who only writes about their kid and/or posts pictures of their kid. If I was a kid these days, I’d be pissed at my parents for posting pictures of me on social media.

*NFP is not the rhythm method, but it still relies mainly on self-control, which fails far more often than we weak humans would like.