The Varmint at 42: A Time to Wallow

It's just 20 days shy of The Varmint and I being hitched for five years. If you'd have told me, as I was walking down that grassy aisle, that it'd go by in the blink of an eye, that we'd each be 15 pounds and two kids heavier - I'd have rolled my eyes at you and snorted. Five. Short. Years. Riiiight.

Five short years. We had traveling plans, The Varmint and I. Ideas of living and working abroad for a year. Ideas about businesses and houses and other stuff, I now realize, you generally have very little control over.

The other thing we didn't count on was that biological clock nonsense, so fine for other people, but not for us. We were travelers! We were young and driven! Woo! But then Justin, The Varmint's brother, goes and has a kid and suddenly some reproductive form of sibling rivalry takes over and *bling!* there's this little gleam in The Varmint's one unsquinting eye - and BAM! the next thing I know, I'm guzzling fertility pills.

Nine months later, our minds are blown and we sort of count that day as the first day we feel like we do now - like a real family. It's a different feeling from when you're a couple, married or no, and there's no way to explain it other than it's a root connection, primal, your genetics and your purpose are tangibly mixed and very present - and you get to stare at that mixture, interact with her, every day. She's more important than you, it's bigger than you and suddenly you understand something you didn't understand, even the day before she was born, that's hard to put into words: You are all something more now.

DSC_0002Last night I had a nightmare about losing The Varmint; it was one of those dreams where you wake up with that icy pit in your stomach and it won't go away. I skooched over and curled myself around his superheated back (those extra 15 pounds do come in handy late at night), wake him up (annoyingly for him, I'm sure) to squeeze him and tell him I love him. He mumbles "I love you too" and immediately begins snoring again.

It got me thinking about how, in the thrum and beat of daily life it's easy to lose focus, to coast along in the comfort and shared complacency, to take your eyes off the prize right in front of you, to let little things peeve, to ignore the greatness and the mystery and the simple friendship there and just task through life without taking the time for a good wallow with the one you love.

With the one you loved first - that made all of the rest of this overwhelming, soul tearing, crashing, thrashing, screaming, jumping, dancing, aching, laughing love possible. So here's to you, my Varmint. Happy Birthday.

Let's wallow. 


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I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >