Wednesday, May 18, 2011

moving.


In April of last year, my now-husband, then-boyfriend
and I embarked on a new journey.
We moved out of his daddy's house,
and into our own apartment.
I'm not going to lie and say it's been fun the whole time
but to say it hasn't sounds like such an insult
to the little (mega spacious) one bedroom we claimed as our own,
and made into a home.

I'll give you the fact that the whole time we lived here,
I was planning our eventual dream house, and whatnot,
but there are many wonderful things about having your own place,
regardless of your place's size, 
and these are my top three:
1. Nobody around to judge you as a couple,
when you have a vicious name calling fight at four am just for fun.
2. Nobody around to overhear your secret conversations,
like your future kids' names.
3. Nobody around, so you can go without pants for DAYS.

Semi-unfortunately, we made the decision  to move back in
with my husband's mother, stepfather, and sisters for a year,
so that when he graduates college next May,
we'll have a lot of savings banked away.



Unfortunately, we'll also have to say goodbye to our furbaby, for now,
with soft kisses and lots of hopes we'll get her back soon.
She'll be living with my mom for the year, if all goes well,
because my husband's stepfather is allergic.

But the next year is all about three things:
1. Working our asses off.
2. Working our asses off to save money.
3. Working our asses off to save money so we can move out of state.

Oh yeah, and a baby would be nice. But hey, I'm not pushing it.
Our one bedroom apartment barely fits in our bedroom there as it is. 


Then again, all we'd need is a bassinet...
oh the dreams, I dream.

[img src : weheartit]

No comments:

Post a Comment