The Beginning
Stephen and I got married in 2011. We set up house in a duplex across the street from crack dealers. He traveled all the time for work and I worked in a nearby city and worked a lot. And on the weekends we went to the farmers' market and refinished furniture we got at thrift stores and bought and played with way too many cat toys and touched each other all the time because we were crammed into 700 square feet.
A couple of months after we got married, the other half of our duplex got broken into and we asked our landlord for a deadbolt. His response was to get us a padlock for the front door that I could lock and then run around to the back and lock that door. When this idea was thrown out, we asked if he had any other properties in safer parts of town. He had a townhouse available for more money, but we managed to scrape enough together to make it work each month.
That townhouse had a rotting air conditioner in the backyard, a hole in the shower patched with Wal-Mart sacks, and cardboard shoved under the base of every ceiling fan. But we were in newlyweds and it had free cable and we were in love and so we had a lot of sex and a lot of laughter and we were happy. And then a knife fight in our safer neighborhood broke out on our front porch and we broke our lease and moved to a lovely home on a large lot in the country.
It was safe and it was quiet and it was peaceful and the worst part about it was mowing the yard and I didn't have to do that anyway, so it turns out it was a pretty great place to live. And we were still newlyweds and in love and happy and so we didn't notice the really ugly cabinets or the tiny fridge or the weirdness of a bathroom and kitchen that didn't seem to have any grounded outlets. It was just us and Jersey and we were snuggled up and happy all the time.
Following that year long lease, we moved to a duplex in town because the commute was getting pretty far for me and because Stephen was tired of mowing the yard and because we wanted to start saving some money so that when we had a baby some day we had a little bit of a nest egg. And then Stephen applied for a job in Oklahoma City that he got and so we moved. We moved to an apartment that the complex insisted was 950 square feet, but if it was that big I will eat my car. I got a job working nights, which nearly killed me, got a new job at the hospital that was days!, started nursing school, and Stephen kept traveling all the time for work. And when he was home on the weekends we watched football and basketball and baseball and figure out how to use a kitchen the size of my left thumb to make food. And we were happy and in love and crazy.
And then Stephen applied for a promotion to a position that both paid better and would keep him from traveling all the time. And he got it. And we were happy. And so he stopped traveling and we decided that it was time to buy a house and put down roots somewhere. This was partly because our apartment was not at all 950 square feet no matter what the complex insisted and partly because the complex always had muddy sidewalks and partly because we had checked rental prices and we could not rent any cheaper than we could buy for anything nicer. So we house hunted. And put offers in on two houses that fell through. And then we walked in the doors of 8313 NW 112th Street. And sure, it had 2300 square feet of salmon tile floors. But it had a pantry you could fit three grown adults in and a window over the kitchen sink and a breakfast nook and a dining room and a large living room and an entry way and three good sized bedrooms. And the neighborhood was quiet and happy. And the house felt happy and we were in love. Or at least I was in love and Stephen loves me so he bought me a pantry so large I can fit three grown adults in it. And then we moved in and we did what so many young couples do when they buy their first house. We stopped preventing pregnancy. And in the midst of home improvement projects and surprise! owning a house costs more than we thought? Who knew? Turns out my parents aren't morons, we had fun and we laughed and we painted the walls and the trim and we snuggled and we kissed and we were happy. And sure I worked full-time and went to nursing school and it was hard but we were happy. We laughed all the time. Every day. And we didn't worry about getting pregnant because we were not preventing and it had only been a few months.
And then a few months turned into six months.
A couple of months after we got married, the other half of our duplex got broken into and we asked our landlord for a deadbolt. His response was to get us a padlock for the front door that I could lock and then run around to the back and lock that door. When this idea was thrown out, we asked if he had any other properties in safer parts of town. He had a townhouse available for more money, but we managed to scrape enough together to make it work each month.
That townhouse had a rotting air conditioner in the backyard, a hole in the shower patched with Wal-Mart sacks, and cardboard shoved under the base of every ceiling fan. But we were in newlyweds and it had free cable and we were in love and so we had a lot of sex and a lot of laughter and we were happy. And then a knife fight in our safer neighborhood broke out on our front porch and we broke our lease and moved to a lovely home on a large lot in the country.
It was safe and it was quiet and it was peaceful and the worst part about it was mowing the yard and I didn't have to do that anyway, so it turns out it was a pretty great place to live. And we were still newlyweds and in love and happy and so we didn't notice the really ugly cabinets or the tiny fridge or the weirdness of a bathroom and kitchen that didn't seem to have any grounded outlets. It was just us and Jersey and we were snuggled up and happy all the time.
Following that year long lease, we moved to a duplex in town because the commute was getting pretty far for me and because Stephen was tired of mowing the yard and because we wanted to start saving some money so that when we had a baby some day we had a little bit of a nest egg. And then Stephen applied for a job in Oklahoma City that he got and so we moved. We moved to an apartment that the complex insisted was 950 square feet, but if it was that big I will eat my car. I got a job working nights, which nearly killed me, got a new job at the hospital that was days!, started nursing school, and Stephen kept traveling all the time for work. And when he was home on the weekends we watched football and basketball and baseball and figure out how to use a kitchen the size of my left thumb to make food. And we were happy and in love and crazy.
And then Stephen applied for a promotion to a position that both paid better and would keep him from traveling all the time. And he got it. And we were happy. And so he stopped traveling and we decided that it was time to buy a house and put down roots somewhere. This was partly because our apartment was not at all 950 square feet no matter what the complex insisted and partly because the complex always had muddy sidewalks and partly because we had checked rental prices and we could not rent any cheaper than we could buy for anything nicer. So we house hunted. And put offers in on two houses that fell through. And then we walked in the doors of 8313 NW 112th Street. And sure, it had 2300 square feet of salmon tile floors. But it had a pantry you could fit three grown adults in and a window over the kitchen sink and a breakfast nook and a dining room and a large living room and an entry way and three good sized bedrooms. And the neighborhood was quiet and happy. And the house felt happy and we were in love. Or at least I was in love and Stephen loves me so he bought me a pantry so large I can fit three grown adults in it. And then we moved in and we did what so many young couples do when they buy their first house. We stopped preventing pregnancy. And in the midst of home improvement projects and surprise! owning a house costs more than we thought? Who knew? Turns out my parents aren't morons, we had fun and we laughed and we painted the walls and the trim and we snuggled and we kissed and we were happy. And sure I worked full-time and went to nursing school and it was hard but we were happy. We laughed all the time. Every day. And we didn't worry about getting pregnant because we were not preventing and it had only been a few months.
And then a few months turned into six months.
Thanks for sharing your story, Kristi. I don't know this part of it yet, but I'm glad to be among those who will get to hear it, and I'm grateful for your courage and grace in telling it.
ReplyDeleteAlso, you're hilarious. Which I've always known but am enjoying being reminded of. :)
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