I’m still trying to sort out all this being in a relationship stuff. I spent 2 years thinking about what, theoritcally (did I spell that right?) I want in a relationship. Now that I’m in one I’m trying to be less abstract and more concrete.
For the most part I’m quite happy with exactly what I’ve got. This is right for me. But there are still many moments when I do things just as I always have, forgetting that there’s an extra set of hands there. I’m slowly starting to adapt. And I do try to make sure he gets in the habit of helping now. Too many men are content to sit on the couch and watch the tube while super woman takes care of the kids and the house and all. I loath that day should it ever come our way.
I’m not used to having another adult around. I’m well adjusted to my boring, lonely life. The one where after the kids are in bed I blog and facebook to feel like I have a bit of connection with other grown-ups. The life where I come home and pull one whichever pair of sweats is least dirty. And sometimes I almost miss it. I miss not caring what I look like, not being ashamed to serve leftover mac & cheese dressed up like tuna helper 2 nights in a row, miss my solitude.
I love having someone to talk to in the evenings, love the excuse to buy new clothes (and wear them!), love having a reason to cook (and often getting cooked for, even better!). I love having a warm body next to me, having an excuse to sit down and snuggle and watch movies. (Did I mention that he got me a DVD player for my birthday? The old one kept freezing up and schitzing out….)
Yes, the adjustment is worth it. But somedays I do miss keeping up with my blog.