Seven Years

Today officially marks seven years of wedded bliss with this guy. Seven years of ups and downs. Together and apart. He’s loved me through a lot of happy times and homecomings and newborn babies, and a lot of deployment tears and morning sickness too. If we could stop and press pause on life right now, that would be okay with me. I’m over the moon in love with this red-headed family God and this guy gave me – if only we’d have had this little glimpse of our lives thirteen years ago when this whole thing started. 

For the sake of remembering, we spent our entire Labor Day outside, with two days at the beach and closing down the last night of the neighborhood pool splashing away. Home-cooked breakfast, a special lunch out on the water, and a home-cooked dinner. And I did zero of the cooking, because lucky me, he’s the chef in this marriage. Oh, and he shampooed our carpets. Yummy food and a clean house are my love language, y’all. 



And so I’ll leave you with my dad’s wedding day text I received in the back of the church – “Good news, he showed up.” And boy, am I thankful every single day that he did. We’re headed back to that little boarding school for our ten year reunion this month, all these crazy kids in tow. We’re calling that our anniversary trip, back to the very place that we met and our head-over-heels 21 year old selves said ‘I do.’ 

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