Three months into marriage and my wife still has not moved in. However, that changes in five days and also means some serious rearranging.

Although Candace and I were engaged for just more than 12 months before the actual nuptials last December, our living arraignments were severely altered when I accepted a position with The Daily Iberian in October. Prior to that, neither of us were familiar with the Teche Area or considered attending the annual Sugar Cane Festival.

Fast forward six months and we’re both regular fans of events in City Park and we each make trips to Bouligny Plaza for whatever festival or celebration happens to be in season that weekend.

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Yet, the process has been slowed slightly because Candace needed to finish her degree at Louisiana Tech University, which is in Ruston some three and half hours to the north. In the meantime, I picked out an apartment for us to start with and also furnished it exactly how I thought it should be.

As I have now come to realize, just about every decision made was wrong.

She has been coming in almost every weekend for a month to change things to her liking and will move in permanently Saturday.

This past Saturday turned out to be my biggest reminder of how life is going to change once Candace officially assumes her position as queen of the castle.

Because of weekend schedules, I was on the news desk two evenings ago and did not get home Saturday until 10:45 p.m. Candace had arrived in New Iberia after I left for work that day and took the time home alone as an opportunity to further rearrange the apartment.

For a pregnant woman, she can sure accomplish a lot when left alone. There are now two new kitchen mats, because I was mistakenly under the impression that we didn’t need any. The bedroom furniture has also been more conveniently placed to allow room for her dresser and three closets worth of clothes — a tricky feat considering we only actually have one closet.

A giant area rug was also added to the den because “something had to tie this room together.”

For someone who does not like change, it was a lot for me to take in at 10:45 p.m.

I’m currently fearing the day two weeks from now when Candace is joined by her mother and the two of them go to town in our future son’s room. Even though the job specifically calls for those two capable women to focus on the baby’s room, somehow more of my stuff will undoubtedly be moved to the trash pile.

On the surface, only one piece of furniture remains an obstacle between the two of us, my trusty dorm refrigerator. It has stored all matter of liquids through the years and has recently served as my bedroom corner table, a place on which my alarm clock sits that also keeps cold water within an arm’s length.

Candace sees this piece of bedroom “furniture” as an eyesore. Apparently, at 27, I’m too old to have a dorm refrigerator.

So far, I have fought the good fight and kept the refrigerator in its bedroom place.

Yet, I’m a little concerned it won’t last the mother-in-law’s visit.

Alas, all good things must come to an end.

STEPHEN HEMELT is city editor of The Daily Iberian. Contact him at stephen.hemelt@daily-iberian.com.