Yes, you read that correctly. Sloan and I have been afloat on the sea of wedded bliss for these two months now. Oh, things have been absolutely breezy (thanks for asking), mainly due to Sloan's low-maintenance lifestyle. Here is what I have learned so far during our transition from unmarried to married:
Financial priorities are prone to shifting. When I was single, I spent as little as I could on food. This one (proverbial) stone killed two (proverbial) birds: it kept my weight down (because I only bought SlimFast and rice cakes) and it allowed for my shopping budget. Well, my husband, MR. EATSALOT has thrown a wrench into my budgeting because he has the normal food intake of a 6'2, 180 lb, 25-year-old male. My grocery bill is through the (PROVERBIAL) roof. I realize that there is nothing to be done about this, of course. I had that epiphany when I ended a heated discussion with Sloan over this issue by semi-shouting "WHY DON'T YOU JUST STOP EATING?" to which he silently gave me the I'm-going-to-let-you-consider-the-logic-of-your-statement look. Thanks, Mother Nature, for reminding me that my husband's metabolism is ten years younger than mine.
If your last name is Rehder, people won't get it right the first few times. From the time I took Sloan's last name, I think I've already spent about 1/9th of my life so far saying "R-E-H-D-E-R" and "I know it's not spelled that way, but it sounds like RAIDER. You know, like the Oakland Raiders? Yeah! Perfect." I don't get annoyed with anyone who can't rectify the spelling with the pronounciation in their minds. We're American, and that's what we get for insisting on keeping the original German spelling of our last name.
Food allergies are real (inconvenient). What do you do when you have a husband who is allergic to citrus? You try to sneak the minimum amount of lemon juice into your fish entree and see if it will travel the course of his body undetected. Then you apologize profusely when his tongue swells up and promise never to try that again. For a while. In the mean time, you get all of the orange juice in the refridgerator to yourself. HELLO, SILVER LINING.
You can't sneak new purchases. When there are only two of you in a two bedroom apartment, even the most obtuse husband will notice that new handbag shoved in the back of the closet you share. And, naturally, the deeper into marriage you dive, the better inventory he takes of what you have, so "These shoes? Oh, I've had them forever, I just never wear them..." simply won't work anymore.
Being right doesn't happen as much. I have always thought I was a hot shot. Ya know, not only was I a stunning beauty, a philanthropic powerhouse, and had an incredible eye for catching counterfeit bills, but also that I was smart. Unfortunately, with Wiki as our resident expert, Sloan has proven his superior intellect over mine. Sure, I win every once in a while when it comes to literary references, pop culture, programming or grammar, but in the realms of science, history, math, religion (all kinds), cooking, driving, handywork, verbatim memorization, sports, geography and anything else ever, I don't...really...win much. Workin on it.
If your husband is male, Hannah Moore will like him. My neice, Hannah, she's not so shy. Especially around boy people. This I have known for a while, but it was not until her provocative dancing and enthusiatic offers to take baths with Sloan upon meeting him for the first time that I realized how easily won over she is by the prospect of having a new uncle.
Love means always having to say you're sorry. I'm learning this by example from Sloan. How someone can always be so right but still be so willing to say sorry is beyond me. But one thing I do understand is that marrying the person I admire more than anyone else has been the most correct decision I've made in my life so far.