August 2, 2012
Marriage and Moving
After two-and-a-half years of marriage, there are signs that we've finally started to figure each other out. The huge sign? A cardboard box.
Lately my life has been filled with using cardboard boxes and step ladders as chairs.
My husband and I moved a few weeks ago.
We may as well have moved two-thousand miles. Even though we're in the same zip code, can still walk to our favorite neighborhood sushi restaurant, and still say hello to the same checkout guy at the grocery store (Hi Nelson!), moving is HARD. Our daily routine has involved discussions that sound something like:
"Have you seen my razor?"
"I think I packed it with my nail file and those bendy straws I love."
Short-distance moves are ripe with opportunities similar to finding your underwear mixed in with the spatulas.
We've made our obligatory trip to IKEA. Used the alan wrench to assemble our FJORLDSTAD-ish tv stand, ordered a guest bed for all you pals who will come visit, and started to hang pictures. It's starting to feel like home.
This move has made me think back to our very first move - two-and-a-half years ago when we moved from New York City to Los Angeles and got married. Back then we were in the midst of learning much about one another, as all newly married couples do. I had spent several years moving back and forth across the country. I had lots of furniture, dozens of boxes. My new groom, on the other hand, seemed to have a few duffel bags and a KitchenAid mixer.
As we moved into our small, dark apartment, my husband and I began opening boxes. I sat in a corner with a box, opening it slowly and assessing what was inside, debating where each item's new "home" should reside.
My husband, however, seemed in a fury as he unpacked. I watched with widened eyes and felt a tightened strain in my chest as he dressed the floor with scattered piles of books, pots and pans, and electronics. He finished and stood tall and proud. "This is great! Now we can see everything!"
My heart continued racing. I froze, thinking, "What have you DONE?!!" The scattered mess of our new lives had me overwhelmed and unsure where to begin.
That was our first opportunity to work together. It was the first moment we both realized how drastically different we looked at the world. He likes to see it all at once; I like it piecemeal.
These days, the unpacking is much more... balanced. Items are removed slowly. My husband checks in with me to see if any quicker pace triggers some sort of unnecessary panic. "Are we unpacking too much at once?" he'll ask. And in our bedroom, sits two full cardboard boxes. Still unpacked. Still waiting for me to approach them piece by piece. We've come far from that first year!
I'm currently working on a book about the first year of marriage and the many adjustments that come with it. If you have any of your own stories about moving, marriage, and change, let me know. In the meantime, you can get your hands on my recent book, "31 Dates in 31 Days" - a tell-all memoir about dating, hope, and unexpectedly finding true love.
Posted by Tamara Duricka Johnson