(photo by KM)
Yesterday before church, I sat on my closet floor.
Me: I'm not going to church today.
Aaron: Okay, you don't have to.
Me: Are you going to tell Shannon, "Mandee couldn't come to church today because she didn't have anything to wear." ?
Aaron: No, I'll tell her that you couldn't come to church today because even though your testimony is strong, your wardrobe is not.
And that is how we began the day of our 8th anniversary. With him reminding me that I not only married a patient man with a great sense of humor, but that I married the perfect man for me.
This last week has been crazy, emotional, trying, stressful, happy, exciting, and. . . did I say emotional? And just now, I chased my 2 year old around the house with a drawn out measuring tape whipping against the walls, and him yelling, "I do it, I do it!". So the crazy continues.
But I had a moment last week- it was the day of Aaron's 42nd birthday, and I sat with Charlie and Jack in the Costco food court after a record breaking visit to get Morton's Tri Tip (to die for if you haven't tried it) and some milk. As a reward for being so good and helpful, I bought Charlie a cheese pizza, Jack got a "churrio", and I indulged in a fat free chocolate + vanilla swirl. (And it was soooooo good, that swirl.) But in a silent moment, when we all had food in our mouths, I looked at those little faces, enjoying the parts of their father that I see in them. And I had never been so happy to celebrate their dad's birthday- for without him, I would not have them.
So even in the middle of crazy- when I can't find anything to wear, trying to keep our two-year old from damaging the house, and feeling flawed more than ever, I love the man that I married. I love him so much.
And there is no one else in this world that I would rather be with.
Happy Eighth to us.