From Matchbox to Shoebox

When we got married and had found a place to live, we described it as a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. People would smile happily and say "what more do you need?" For a while, I didn't think I needed much more than that. Our bungalow on Yellow Brick Rd (seriously) was just what we needed to get started. It was complete with a washer and dryer, a propane heater, and a brand new, full-size futon.We were excited just to have a plus to be together.

We were content, for a while. Then came homework for me on nights when Michael wanted to watch a movie. Or God-forbid, a fight that left us wanting our own space.The best you could do was lock yourself in the bathroom. I took more than one unnecessary shower, just to get some space. But hey, we had a place to live and blessed we are to have had that. But so do Grandpa Bill and Grandma Carlita, who travel the country in their motor home.

Michael is a construction guy. He did ROP Construction in high school, and loves any project you will throw at him that requires the use of a tool. So one night, I asked him to find out exactly how many square feet we lived in. A few measurements and some math on a scratch piece of paper later, we found out we were living in......wait for it.......350 sq. feet. No joke. So on our next visit with Grandma and Grandpa (Thanksgiving, I believe it was), we were describing where we lived to them. Grandma then proceeds to chuckle and say I have 350 sq. ft.. in the motorhome. + the storage underneath the coach. Comical to make the comparison if you ask me.

So now one year (14 months actually) and one lumpy futon later, we are lavishly upgrading to 600 sq. feet with a real bed, a real closet, and space for a couch. You wouldn't believe how giddy my husband is. Plus it has exposed wood ceilings, which according to him were the selling point : P

As blessed as we were with the Bungalow, I can't tell you how grateful I am to have more space. I love having a real bedroom, that doesn't have a front door in it. I am so grateful to have a real, queen-size bed. And I can't even tell you how grateful I am to have space for a couch/living space. Our new shoebox verses the old matchbox is like a castle, plus it has a killer view. Kitchen is significantly smaller with less cabinets, but I have made it work so far.

We are still in the process of moving. We have to be out of the Bungalow by Monday so this week we'll wrap everything up.Until then, please keep me in your prayers...this moving thing has me in a tailspin. I am having a tough time with the change. Feeling guilty for leaving our current landlords for new ones. Struggling to find some of the furniture we need/want, that will fit in our budget. And worried that I won't get everything done in time. Fortunately, I have a rock of husband, and the most supportive parents in the universe. Looking forward to settling down on Hollow Lane. Just need some prayers and a nudge forward. I will post pics of the new shoebox and pics of the old matchbox for comparison when we are all settled and cleaned out.

Until then, God Bless!
~RB

Who are you to tell me I'm old?

Getting married changes your life. Period.

There is nothing that can prepare you for that kind of change, because everyone's experiences, backgrounds, and personalities are different.

For someone like me that was in the middle of community college at the ripe age of 20 still living with her parents, the changes are rather great. However, despite the obvious changes of sharing a bed with someone, living in a new home, and trying to figure out how to not only cook dinner for yourself, but also another, there was one change that stood out to me...starting the first week of my marriage.

Suddenly I was old! 

I hadn't been married 72 hours and people started calling me "old married lady." What the heck does that mean? If being married automatically makes you old, then no one should ever raise their eyebrows at me when I tell them I got married at 20. 

But, instead of accepting this apparently common theme among my acquaintances, I refuse to be old. I am not an old married lady. I am a young, beautiful, 21 year old married lady with lots of living left to do. In fact, nothing about getting married made me old, it gave me more life - someone to live with and to live for.

Believe me when I say, I am not angry that people call me an old married lady. In fact, its rather endearing....like I am a part of a special club because I wear a ring on my left hand. But I consider it something to be noted, because it was change I never could have predicted.

God bless the old married ladies that have inspired me to write. This project has been in my mind since the beginning of marriage (8/13/11) and now it is finally coming to fruition. I hope that listening to the ramblings of this young married lady don't get old. Come back and see me. <3