My Picket Fence is Blue

When I was young, from probably thirteen on, I had this vision in my mind as to what my life would become.

I thought that I would marry a tall, dark, and handsome man. He would be four or five years older than me and we would meet at a local coffee shop. We would be married by the time I was 20 and have kids before I was 23.  He would wear a button-down shirt and a tie to work. He would leave at 7am to go to his office job where he would get off promptly at 4:30 to return home to our family. We would live in a respectably sized, three bedroom, two bathroom home on a tree lined street with a well maintained white picket fence. We would host dinner parties regularly and spend most of our free time playing in the back yard with the kids before retiring to the covered porch after the kids went to sleep. All the while, birds would be chirping and Bambi would be nestled comfortably with his mother on the other side of the fence.

WAKE UP CALL!

Fast forward to my life now.

My husband is a year and a half younger than me. We met when we were 15 (him) and 16 (me) years old. Both of us worked at Quizno’s Sub in our little town for an old Italian woman who really put up with way too much of our teenage crap. Our first child was born when we were 17/18 years old and we didn’t get married until we were 22/24. We welcomed our second child at 23/25. Now obviously, this right here threw a huge wrench in my 13-year-old’s life plans.

Now as silly as this may sound, here is what really got me. My husband owns two button down shirts and two ties. I purchased both shirt/tie combos, each time without his prior knowledge. He once had three combos but he made me take the purple back. In hindsight, he would look pretty weird in purple. Getting back to it though, my husband wears bright yellow, oil stained, t-shirts and dirty jeans to work every day. He carries his lunch, sunscreen, and work calendar in an old cooler that at one point was painted pink. I never know how long this job will last (weeks, months, maybe a year), where the next job will be, and what his pay rate will be depending on whether or not he is the foreman. His hours are never set in stone; some jobs he works 8 hours a day, five days a week starting at 7am. Other jobs he works 10 hours a day for four days and 8 hours on the fifth day starting at 6am. Nothing is for certain…ever.

I mean holy crap is he good looking, though.

He is ABSOLUTELY tall and handsome. The dark part…he’s actually a little more red in the face and arms. We do live in a respectably sized, three bedroom, two bathroom home in the town where we both grew up.  My fantastic husband remodeled the whole house from top to bottom with his bare hands and the help of family.

Small side note:

He is so incredibly skilled in so many trades.  I am so proud him because it has taken so much time and dedication to truly fine tune those skills.

Back to our story…

In that home, we don’t host dinner parties…we host game nights with family and friends that everyone enjoys. The kids go to bed at a reasonable time and we retire to our bedroom because that back porch hasn’t been built yet. But we will get there. Side by side, we will get there. In the meantime, I am so happy to be creating my REAL life with an incredible man and two beautiful daughters who show me every day that God truly laughs when you tell him you have a plan.

My tall, red, and handsome husband.

The moral of this story is, don’t let an idea get in the way of what is actually meant for you. My husband has opened my eyes to an entirely different world through his spontaneity and willingness to try new things. While I’m still not incredibly spontaneous, I am much more willing to try new things. Because of him, the idea of a boring old, white picket fence is no longer there. When we get around to putting a fence in, I’m going to paint it blue to remind myself that our life doesn’t fit in a neatly packaged box that belongs in the early 1950’s.