Child Bride Marries Old Dude

9 years ago today, this child bride married what her sister referred to as "some old dude." For the record said sister now adores said old dude more than she likes me, so I don't think she did too bad in the deal! I've already spent an entire entry waxing lyrical about how wonderful, fabulous and all around totally lovable my DH is, so I won't do that here (even though he'd like to hear it.) I will, however, reflect on our 9 years of marriage together. When I met DH, I was a junior in college, and I had set up for myself a very complex future. I was going to be some totally hotshot publishing executive with a super way groovy cool apartment in LA, single, thin (because when you're single you have gym time, right?), cultural (because single people have time for loads of classes in shit like pottery and jewelry making), and I would be the most fantastic auntie on the planet to my sister's kids. You know, the one who lets you sleep over and eat nothing but junk food and stay up late to watch movies your mom won't let you watch, who then lets you sleep in but gets up to make you French Toast and coffee (like a grown up!!) and when you're with amazing auntie , she curses like a sailor and in general is the most fabulous person in the universe. Better than your Mom because there are NO RULES other than the rule of having fun. So this was my plan, no house, no husband, no kids, no responsibility other than turning up to pottery class on time.

Then I met him. You know. DH. Or the person soon to be known as DH.

DH's plan for himself was as follows: house in the Jewish suburbs, nice wife, three adorable kids, good job, holiday once a year. In short, your typical boy-meets-girl suburbia story. He had, however, reached the ripe old age of 36 without having achieved any of these things.

Then he met me. You know. DW. Or the person soon to be known as DW.

He is now:
Married to nice wife. Check.
Living in Jewish suburbia. Check.
Parent to three kids (adorable). Check.
Good job. Check.
Holiday once a year. Check.

Now anybody reading this tale might think, "Wait a minute! He got everything he wanted, but you got nothing you wanted!" Here is where you (and I) are totally, totally wrong. The plan DH had was based on a lifetime of seeing his amazing parents raise their sons, and wanting for himself the same sort of family life they had built. My plan was based in self-doubt and lack of confidence - I'd built this amazing plan for myself on the assumption that nobody would want to marry me. My fantasy world was one where I was so fiercely independent that I just didn't need anybody else. I could be happy without a husband. I could fill my life with that damn pottery class, nieces/nephews, and gym visits and be fulfilled and happy. My only problem would be fending off my well meaning but annoying parents asking me to join some Jewish singles scene. Now I don't know if that would have been true - maybe that's exactly what would have happened. I could, right now, be hosting the opening of my brilliant one-woman pottery show (and the canapes would have been FAB, let me tell you). It didn't happen, though - fate intervened and I met, and fell in love with, DH. I have spent the last 10 years in the company of someone who (while occasionally supremely dorky and irritating) has taught me the importance of family, of togetherness, of facing a difficult world with someone at your side who loves you unconditionally. That last one is something he not only says he does, but he actually does: he loves me when I am the one who is dorky and irritating, when I am not nice to him, when I look like shit, when frankly I don't even like myself very much. DH is always there, quietly loving me. He has been an integral part of my growing up - because that's what I've done since I've been with him. I grew up. The most important lesson of my growing up is this: It's true what they say about the 'best laid plans' ....and I'm so very, very glad.

Dear reader, you'll also be heartened to know that DH & I are, truly, the most cool Auntie and Uncle that ever lived. Just ask Miss H and Master M, who adore us. As an aunt and uncle, we totally rock.