Monday marked our one-month anniversary of being married. To mark the day, we walked over to Faccia Luna for dinner. It’s long been one of our favorite restaurants … and it’s hard to pass up their Monday night special.
For the most part, married life has been pretty much exactly the same as it was before all the wedding craziness. Not that I was really expecting anything different — It’s just a bit of a comfort that making things “official” didn’t change anything fundamental about the relationship that makes up the foundation of our marriage. Rather, I feel like things are only going to get better.
Some things are going to take some getting used to, though. The other day, for perhaps the first time, Rob introduced me to someone as his wife. I had to do a double-take; the word, applied to me, still sounds foreign. I don’t think I’ve used the word “husband” yet when referring to Rob … although (at the risk of sounding batty) I’ve been testing it out in my head — “I’m going hiking with my husband this weekend.” “I’m meeting my husband for lunch.” “This is my husband Rob.” It doesn’t feel quite ready for prime-time yet, but I’m working on it.
I am excited about our future together. We’re taking the leap into joint bank accounts — an idea that seemed impractical even a month ago, but which now seems like the most logical course of action — and we’re working on a financial plan. We’re talking about weekend day trips out to old haunts and new territories. We’re planning meals and cooking at home a lot often. It sounds rather mundane, but it’s our mundane (2nd edition). And that’s kind of exciting.