In one month of marriage, I have learned that Stephen whistles. A. LOT. I was aware of this whistling a month ago, but I had no clue of its frequency. He whistles when he’s cleaning. He whistles when he’s walking through the apartment. He whistles when he’s driving. He whistles when he’s checking his email. You get the idea.

This has been the quirky trait that has put me most on edge. I can even imagine some of the death glares I’ve given over the last five weeks due to the persistent whistling. I suppose I did it because I was annoyed (though, there is also a chance that I death-glared due to jealousy as my own whistling skills are abysmal at best).

I’m proud to say that I’ve (mostly) adjusted to the whistling now and that my death glares are far fewer in number these days.

This experience has convinced me that at least one of the marriage clichés I’ve heard is true: you know, the bit about the spouse’s quirks becoming much more annoying/magnified post-union/cohabitation. I can only imagine what I’m making poor Stephen go through. But the important part is, we’re going through it. Together.

Considering that I’ve moved to another state and started a job at a new school in the last month, I think it’s a little impressive that the whistling has been my hardest adjustment. So far, we have both been lucky. We are adjusting. We are learning. We are loving. We are having fun (small, meaningless annoyances and all!).