3 years: the kind you can't afford

You travel private jet
I stand by overnight
You romance with chandeliers
And I use candlelight

Oh, there's one thing I got more 
Where I'm rich, you're poor
It's that real good loving
The kind you can't afford

-Madeleine Peyroux
 
We have taken three trips round the sun since our wedding. In that time, my husband has taught me to appreciate many things, like sweatpants, sour cream, baseball, Mac computers, The West Wing, hip-hop, and the beach. He has failed, alas, in his campaign to convert me to a football fan. (I am not sure if I have taught him to appreciate anything other than bourbon, but he says I'm the best thing that ever happened to him, which is quite satisfactory.)

This is going to be an exciting year. New house, newborn, new adventures all around. I count myself fortunate to have a husband who is both a fearless leader and a tender-hearted helper. Forward march!

Shepherd Piping to a Shepherdess, Francois Boucher c. 1750

Last week a few of us watched a new documentary, The Queen of Versailles, which follows an insanely rich family-- he a timeshare mogul, she a former beauty queen-- through the economic meltdown of 2008 and beyond. I was struck by the hollowness of their marriage. As stress swelled, so did tempers, and divorce seemed to loom large by the end of the film. They never really had love; they only had mutual enjoyment of wealth. Once the wealth started to trickle away, so did the affection.

Jared and I own a 1,280 square foot house. Our living room furniture currently consists of a coffee table. Buying a $25 bottle of wine is a big splurge. My husband won't be taking me to Versailles any time soon, let alone building me a replica.

But we have that real good loving, the kind you can't afford.