Halloween and Marriage are for Me.

The Deutsch family. We are party people. In the house.

We lack both the sheer will power and finely tuned moral compass to pass up a chance, any chance to have ourselves a little festivity. Given the potential for all manner of scrumptious morsel of ooey gooey cholately and fruity sweetness I could never bring myself to purchase at the store being brought into the casa for faultless consumption, (because who can blame us for devouring the bowl full of goodies? No one. Everyone knows, it's a sin to waste...) Halloween is no exception. Give us an excuse, we will full on party.

Jayla and Meadow worked for a solid week to prepare the merriment. I had not a thing to do with it other than to show up and capture the memories. Really.

This happened last weekend, after the fact. We couldn't seem to get around to it before.

There were games.

The gypsy princess who owns me.

Dancing to The Monster Mash while waiting in line for more games.

Crafts.

Treats.

Tricks. You'd thought they were mummies, didn't you? Nope! They are HOT DOGS. Gotcha!

Some sort of dismembered red floating hand in a bubbly yellowy liquid for drinking. Oh, well...yum. Go ahead and pour me another one of those, would ya?

And the real deal. At grandma JJ's getting reading to bag up some loot sure to make pre diabetics of us all...

I must have seen this post soaring about cyberspace exactly 25.3 million times in the past few days. It seemed everywhere I looked someone else was linking up in agreement. I read it. It was good food for thought. I could see what he was getting at and I liked it too. Then again, I also found it just the tiniest bit sad.

I hate to make anyone gag all over their tomato and avocado with sprouts sandwich as they read what I'm about to say, but my marriage happens to be just about the most consistently lovely and enjoyable thing in my life. Unlike the dastardly Halloween candy bowl that will soon run dry, and those traitors we have for children who will soon grow up and leave us all alone, and the unforeseen changes that will inevitably soon rattle life as we know it, shaking up the pieces so they must fall back into place anew, our marriage remains a constant, predictable refuge of peace and fun and companionship and friendship and romance and stress reduction and therapy and unwavering support.

The author of the article has been married for a year and a half. There is such a vast array of newness to navigate that the newlywed stage can truly be more tumultuous than one might presume. Merging two lives and hearts is no small or easy feat! I remember those days.

With immense humility and no small debt of gratitude I can say that as the years have collected themselves into more anniversaries than two hands can count, my relationship with my husband has taken on an easy flow where we are better able to gauge what we can expect from one another, and genuinely appreciate both our similarities and our differences.

The man I married is not always the man I thought he would be. I am not always the woman he imagined I would be. Marriage doesn't necessarily look the tidy way we envisioned it would. It can be disappointing in ways. Life is a little bit grittier, more hourly and daily and expensive and stressful and heavier with decision and lofty ideal obliterating than we may have once guessed.

He may sometimes view me too talkative, while I find him not conversational enough. The way I see the world may be too perpetually a hazy shade of grey while he prefers a more solid, black and white approach. My emotions run the full gamete and then some, while he claims knowledge of precisely two, happy and mad. I am effusive, he quiet. I am terrible with my hands and greatly prefer the use of words. He can capably make and mold and sculpt and build just about anything the mind can fathom.

In so many ways are not the same and our marriage has been forced to face our distinctions as they have unfolded, often enough in an unruly fashion.

But found in the realness of thousands of days and nights together, figuring it all out, lies its very own kind of exquisite beauty.

My husband has proven himself time and again someone I can count on ceaselessly without fail. Whatever it takes, he will labor toward every good end on behalf of our union. He has allowed me trust and freedom and space to move ahead and grow and transform and question and doubt and seek new answers and remain without answers and change answers only to change them again. He has shown himself the kindest, most gracious person to me ever, tirelessly in the pursuit of my best interests. He has bolstered my confidence and provided me acceptance like I have never known.

He nurtures my mind, my body, my soul.

I have learned not to dwell on what he is not, but to count every good gift found in him, to register his language of love as it is spoken directly to me and to never stop working on its generous return.

We abide. Together. All for one and one for all. We are partners in crime, comrades, cronies, friends beyond compare. Flawed and wonderful and joyful and forever.

He makes me so happy.

Marriage is for me.