eight years

Rory and I are celebrating eight years of happily ever after today. To honor the day, Rory is working in the house and helping with the kids, so that I can paint the sunny room. I think you'd agree it's hard to get more romantic than that. (Unless you wrote a love note to your man with a ceramic kleenex box cover from the hotel before the sun came up while on your honeymoon on Waikiki. That would be pretty romantic too...)

We stayed up late last night talking in bed, walking through the last eight years, talking about the years to come. We had the curtain open and the room was filled with moonlight. Those moments in marriage are so precious. To feel fully heard, fully understood, fully one. To not want to go to sleep, to keep that sweet connection.

It felt like seconds after we fell asleep the roosters started up and Ivar fell out of his bed and just like that it was morning. Time to start a pot of coffee, time to function as if we're fully rested.

But I wouldn't trade the late night and long conversation for anything.

Happy 8th Anniversary, Rory.

I'm glad I picked you. I'm glad you picked me.