{eight years}

Eight years together.  .  .

It's good. 

I think of the wild joy and beauty of first love and first kisses and first homes and the way his face looked when I walked down the aisle to spend the rest of my life with him.

I think of the crazy-high expectations of new brides and the sheer inadequacy of humans to meet each others every need. 

I think of the glitter {from our car - thanks groomsmen} we tracked everywhere on our honeymoon.

I think of the desire for our love to be perfect . . . for our marriage to be strong.

I remember red roses and a white veil and how much all of that rice hurt my face and my big strong man carrying me out of the church.

I remember my heart feeling like it would burst wide open with joy.



Fast forward eight years. . .

A lot of life has lost the glitter.

The rose colored glasses are definitely put away.

You know each other.

For some, maybe, that's bad.

For us, its so good.

No glitter, just reality. 

It's you and me, just liked I dreamed.

Reality is:

four days away to be together.

still loving kicking hotel room doors shut and hanging out the I'm too comfortable to be disturbed, please come back later sign. (Gotta love how different hotels phrase "Don't bother us.")

the freedom and security that comes from years together. . .  I don't feel like I have to stay at Best Buy and agonize over the second laptop decision.  I can leave.  He's still happy.  I can also come back an hour later and he still hasn't moved. 

that we both love watching nerdy financial corruption documentaries together. 

when he says you're beautiful . . . and  I'm one month away from having our fourth child.

staying together when life isn't glitter and roses.

I think of how easy it can be to want to throw in the proverbial towel and give up on the commitments that we made and I'm thankful that we haven't.

The reward of being with someone who knows everything about you and still chooses to love is incredible, unique, fantastic.  {thrilling}

So glad I married the love of my life!


I love you, Daniel!