Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Eight years

I had leftovers for lunch. Had the same thing for dinner.

This is what happens when you have a baby who relies on you for his nourishment, so that you can't really go out for any amount of time. And even if you did, you can't eat anything anyway.

Happy eight years to us.

On this day in 2001, David and I married under a perfect sunset on a warm winter's night in Laguna Beach.

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Did we really imagine what married life would be? Or were we just looking forward to our Costa Rican honeymoon?


We got engaged the year before. On a helicopter in Kauai. I was VERY surprised.

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The next 12 months were spent planning, planning, planning. The wedding was like my second job. It paid off; we had our perfect day.

Then what? It's been eight years, one house, two dogs, three kids. There have been fabulous times where I can't believe a person could be so happy, and days when I wanted to get in the car and just drive. Alone. Somewhere. Anywhere.

I remember at my sister's wedding, the rabbi talked about love and marriage being like an ocean, with all its depths, and its ebbs and flows.

I believe that. Just like I believe that when you feel adrift, the tide will always pull you back to shore.

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