Next stop: Mushedville

Last night, somewhere in the pre-dawn hours, I got back in bed after feeding Morgan out by the computer (I do this sometimes so that I can stay awake by reading something). I was snuggled with Morgan on my chest and Adrian next to me, and for some reason I didn’t fall immediately asleep like I usually do… probably because Morgan had slept a little longer than usual in the stretch before that so my body wasn’t quite as exhausted. I thought back to before we all went to bed and Adrian so sweetly asked me if I’d like to go on a date with him the next night (tonight). I had been asleep because I went to bed earlier with Morgan, so I was in groggy-I-don’t-want-to-be-awake mode and he was still in heading-to-bed mode, but it still made me happy that he asked. So all this was running through my head and I thought–because I didn’t want to wake the sleeping ones by saying anything outloud–”Morgan, I love your father.” I sat there musing on that as I tried to fall asleep.

I’m grateful I love my husband. And I’m grateful that Morgan has parents who love each other. Sadly, not every child can say that. We’re not perfect by a long shot, of course. There are plenty of times that I get frustrated or out of sorts, like when I get sulky because I think Adrian isn’t hugging or kissing me enough (I know, I don’t have it so rough, but my sometimes fragile confidence likes to be retrofitted. A lot). But somehow he has always accepted me, no matter how crazy I act, and that has taught me patience. The fact that I felt so secure with him is one of the big reasons I chose to marry him.

My thoughts then went to remembering worries I had before getting married. Before meeting Adrian, I was really worried that I’d get sick of someone after I married them. No matter how much I loved my friends, there were always brief times of wanting to get away and needing some space… or even worse, eventually discovering that you didn’t like them as much as you thought you did. Some of that lingered while we were dating, I think, because I remember thinking that I wish I just knew how I’d feel in five years, because if I still liked him then I’d know he’d be worth marrying… but of course neither of us really wanted to wait five years of endless dating. In any case, this is all to say that I’m incredibly happy to say there is still no one I’d rather spend time with. I’ve had moments of frustration, but those rare times last about fifteen seconds. (Though I admit when we first got married it was harder because we were still figuring out how we each do and say things.) Adrian is my absolute favorite person to hang out with, which is great because we get to do it all the time. Really, almost every thing I can think of being even slightly put out about is because I want more of him than I’m getting, like if he’s working on the computer and I’m wishing he weren’t or he sits on the couch just a little farther away from me than I’d like (“Me! Me! Pay attention to ME!” It sounds really immature when I think of it that way). I’m glad it works out that way, because if not marriage would be pretty boring. And potentially annoying. Luckily for us, I happily don’t feel that way at all.

With all those warm thoughts in mind, I reached over to touch him and wrap my leg around his and fell back asleep.