Can a square peg fit in a round hole?

Nearly 16 years ago I met my husband. At the time I was 31 and he was only 24. Those numbers never bothered Greg. He thought nothing of it, but they worried me. Twenty four sounded very, very young. But my heart knew something my mind could not accept immediately: I fit into his heart and he into mine. Quickly thereafter we were engaged (six weeks to be exact), and I began meeting his family. First I met his parents, his brother and fiance', his other brother, and his paternal grandparents. We arrived at his parents' home and I was immediately overwhelmed. The house was larger than any home I had ever seen. It was obvious that our financial backgrounds were drastically different. Yet that home was warm and comfortable and inviting. I realized that I could be comfortable there. His dad was active in the political community and it was obvious that we also came from very different political backgrounds. His mom was (and is) the best cook I had ever met. Her home was immaculate. She baked her own bread and arranged her own flowers and decorated her own cakes and ran her home like a well-oiled machine. I had never met a woman who was so good at what she did in her home before. It was obvious that the families we grew up with were completely different. But my heart knew something which my mind couldn't: I fit into their home and they into mine. Later I met the maternal side of his family. I learned that his grandma, cousins, aunts and uncles were a tight-knit, close and loving group. And they were much like his parents. The men were succesful, funny, intelligent and conservative. The women stayed home with their kids and made impecable homes. They were also bright, funny and educated. I had not grown up with the idea that I would, or could, stay home with kids. I did not grow up expecting to get an education after high school. As I grew older the prospect of being a stay-at-home mom became less likely. It was not something I had ever expected, planned, known or even wanted. I was a lawyer, a woman who expected to work outside the home for the rest of my life. I did not have the tools to be a good stay-at-home mom. I honestly had no idea how to make that work. My mom was not a cook or a baker. She was not organized in our home and did not know how to arrange flowers or throw parties. I was a square peg in a round hole and I wasn't sure I would ever fit. But that family hugged me, laughed with me and loved me. I have never stopped feeling like a square peg, but I have learned that sometimes a square peg does fit in a round hole. My heart knew something that my mind struggled to accept: These lovely people fit into my heart. Now I am a stay-at-home mom and still feel a bit inept. I don't know how to organize myself in my home, so it always is in a state of partial organization. I am not a great cook. In fact, Greg does most of our cooking. There are no perfectly arranged flowers or fresh baked loaves of bread in my home. I have no driver's license so I am not able to drive my kids to their activities and if I am honest about that I don't relish the idea anyway. My kids are loved immensely by their dad and by me. I think they are beautiful human beings and I am proud of my part in raising them. But I do miss thinking about legal ramifications of certain business and tax arrangements for large companies ... I miss working. And I know that I am not the best stay-at-home mom. It isn't the job I expected to have or trained for. I am a square peg in the round hole that is this job and this family. But, my heart knows something that my mind never trained for: Somehow I fit.