Two years ago today, Spencer and I joined hands before family and friends and officially became the Johnsons.
It’s a strange and wonderful thing, being married. Braiding your life with someone else’s, creating a home, starting a family. Welcoming our son in the spring changed us forever, but we were a duo before becoming a trio. And we are a twosome still.
We were able to sneak in a “date” yesterday. Spencer was out on work-related errands, and I had a little time before deadline to take an early break. It was spontaneous (not my strong suit), and also pretty wonderful. Oliver was at day care. We haven’t been alone in a restaurant in months — and when Spence climbed from his car without the ever-present car seat, we both laughed.
“This is weird,” he said.
And it was. But by dessert — the denouement of a meal free of diaper changes, fussing or crying with one of us pacing the restaurant with an infant while the other scarfed down their food, well . . . we were good with it.
Our second year of marriage has been filled with so much love — love laced with deep exhaustion. It was, of course, the year we became parents.
The best thing to come out of 2015 — aside from our actual child, of course! — is the deep joy I feel seeing my husband become a father. As I wrote back in April, you can’t always know how someone is going to react to trying circumstances until you’re in them — and Spencer has proved time and again to be a loving, patient, devoted dad to Ollie and spouse to me.
We said “in sickness and in health,” and we meant it. If there was any mystery left in our marriage, it was definitely shucked in the ambulance taking us to Baltimore and, soon after, in the delivery room.
But there’s a comfort to that: a sense of wellbeing that comes from knowing someone doesn’t care if you have more gray laced in your hair these days or haven’t yet bothered to brush your teeth. That familiarity is what makes our house our home, and I love nothing more than plopping Ollie between us on Sunday mornings so we can drink coffee in our pajamas.
Our evenings aren’t as exciting as they once were. I’m lucky if I can stay awake to watch an hour-long drama on the DVR. We both come back from work depleted, and then we have an adorable 7-month-old (!) seeking more of the time and energy we don’t always feel we have to give.
But no matter how ornery or broken I feel, Spencer knows how to step in, put an arm around me and say, “It’s OK — we’re in this together.”
What a wonderful thing to know you have a partner, a teammate, a fan waving a sparkly banner for you on the sidelines. To know the world can be hard and unflinching, but you won’t breathe any of that when you shed your coat at the front door.
When I come in carrying the remnants of my work day, I almost always find Spencer snuggled with Ollie over the evening news. They both look up at me, two sets of sweet dark eyes, and smile.
There’s nothing in the galaxy I would trade for those moments.
Happy anniversary, Spencer! You make home the absolute best place to be. xo