So I was contemplating how much life has changed in the past few years. It’s amazing how different one’s life can become in such a short amount of time. Case in point: the House of Burks.
The Mister and I met in May of 2003, started dating in October 2003, and got married in October 2004. We bought our first house in August 2005. In February of 2006, the Mister got promoted and transferred from Alabama, where we were both born and raised, to Georgia. So in April of 2006, we bought our second house (not having sold the first one, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post). I went to work for a law firm over here, where I am still employed today. In January 2008, we sold House of Burks #1 after renting it out for a tumultuous 12-month period and repairing the resulting destruction for 3 months. We enjoyed our newfound financial wiggle room (the extra $1,200 a month was a huge relief) and enjoyed going on trips, buying nice things (including a brand new car for myself, my first brand new car ever), and trying to get me pregnant. That part of the story took a little longer than we expected, but thanks to the help of modern medicine and a proactive gynecologist, we learned in October 2008 that our first child would be arriving in June. Then in February of 2009, the Mister’s company did a little restructuring, resulting in another promotion, which allowed us to breathe even easier with a child on the way. June 2009: The Child Arriveth. I went back to work in September, and am still going strong. February 2010 brought another restructure of the Mister’s company, and (you guessed it) he earned another promotion. We are still feeling out his new position and the effect it will have on our family, but so far everything is going well.
Whew. That’s a lot to pile on a young couple in just six short years. Since 2003, we have acquired two dogs and one cat, buried a puppy, flushed a couple of fish, lost the Mister’s 90-year old grandmother and 32-year old cousin (cancer), gone through the Mister’s younger brother’s up-and-down relationships with various lady friends (two girlfriends, both of which I liked, and two fiancees, one we never met and one that eventually became his wife), buried my great-grandmother and a couple of great-aunts, dealt with the fallout of my grandfather’s motorcycle accident (in which he lost a leg and nearly lost his life), and welcomed a new niece into the world just three short days ago. Some of these changes were very difficult, all of them required adjustment, but hopefully we have been made better people because of them.
The biggest change, however, has been how we spend our free time. Or nowadays, lack thereof. Just two years ago, Friday nights would have been “date night.” I would get home from work, freshen up and put on a cute outfit, and we would head out to dinner and a movie, or to the mall for ice cream and peoplewatching, or to the bowling alley for a few frames and a pitcher or two of beer, or to a sports bar to catch a game or some live music. Tonight, a Friday night, was spent rocking and nursing my baby boy to sleep and hopping in the bed by 9:05, where I am currently blogging, checking message boards, and looking for coupons online while the Mister snoozes beside me.
Aside: CJ just farted loud enough to be heard over the monitor. For some reason that always amuses me.
Anyway, sometimes I get a little wistful for the long-gone ability to just get up and go. When my friends at work plan a girls night, sometimes I think about surprising them by accepting their invitation. I find myself looking at Creative Loafing every now and then to brush up on the concert calendar or local events. When I see ads for new movies coming out, I think to myself, “man, I wish we could go see that.” Even a trip to the mall sans stroller and diaper bag sounds like an exotic occurrence to me.
But then I glance up at that monitor and see the sweetest baby boy on Earth gently snoring.
That’s when I know that this is where I’m supposed to be.