To be honest, the upcoming summer has brought me a little anxiety. I usually love the long, lazy days with nowhere to be unless we feel like it, but this year I’ve been feeling some pressure to “make it epic”.
We aren’t traveling this year or sending the kids to any camps, we aren’t really doing anything monumental except (hopefully) sleeping in. I’ll take them to the beach, and we will eat popsicles like it’s our job, but there will also be days when I work with my headphones on and I’ll need them to play on their own.
You have always been a part of my story.
You’ve come in waves and seasons. Sometimes you were quiet and sometimes you were loud.
When I was a little girl I spent long sleepless nights while fearful thoughts circled endlessly through my brain. I couldn’t figure out how to turn you off. I knew it wasn’t normal, but I didn’t know your name.
I can’t give you perfection, but I can give you all of me, without holding anything back.
I can give you my whole heart.
I can let you see me laugh and cry and everything in between.
I can admit when I’m wrong (even if it takes me awhile to realize sometimes).
We’ve now been married twelve years. This means we walked down the aisle when neither of us could legally drink. It was okay though because Graham’s older siblings bought us wine coolers sometimes.
Our fights back then consisted of Graham falling asleep mid-sentence and me rage driving to Wendy’s for a middle of the night bacon cheese burger. Now if he goes to sleep before me I just make quesadillas in the microwave and watch Netflix because I am 32.
We’ve grown up together, and it has been my favorite adventure.
In honor of this milestone here are 8 of my best pieces of advice:
1. Get your own plate of nachos on date night. Otherwise it will be very stressful and like a eating race for the cheesy chips. You will become faster and faster because he is closing in on your side. Pretty soon all rules will be thrown out the window and you both will be eating off all sides of the plate like animals. In five minutes the whole thing will be gone and you won’t even know what you tasted, but you will feel like you are pregnant with a twelve pound food baby and you will still have an hour and a half before the babysitter has to leave.
I’ve been annoyed at you lately.
I haven’t wanted you to see it, but I’m sure that you have.
I was annoyed when you had a melt down in a public place. Pull it together, I thought, why can’t we be past this awful stage??
I was annoyed at your bickering and your roughhousing and your kid-ness.
I was annoyed that the sixth glass broke this week.