By “the end”, I am not referring to the end of my life despite the fact that I make this move to a new place seem worse than the holocaust - but I can’t help it. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m sore, I’m in 110 degree weather and I barely have enough closet space for my wardrobe. That’s the same as a concentration camp right?
Now that my fiance and I have a new home together, my whole single-motherhood-living-at-home-with-my-parents thing is sooo yesterday. I’m no longer a walking episode of TEEN MOM. Praise fucking Jesus. You have no idea what it’s like being 29 years old and watching 16 year olds in almost better positions than I am.
Now we are a family, not just another engaged couple. Sure, our wedding is soon and that kind of makes it official, but whatever. Living together is official enough, at least for me. If I’m in the bathtub chugging a bottle of wine and my fiance is having to put a princess dress on to entertain our child, then I don’t need any stupid piece of paper to confirm anything. *note that i need a wedding dress before i die so that is why we are having a wedding - in my eyes - thanks.
Today marked our first morning together and my daughter and I did our nails while my fiance watched Sports Center. I can’t wait for every morning to be as normal as that (but maybe with more espresso).
ps happy 30th birthday to my future husband who just ended his 20’s and his life all in the same week. way to think through that one!