One day last week. We headed home from The East Coast. The day started at 5am EST /2am Pacific. A series of hijinks later, including a Thunderstorm (in other states, rain bothers people, it’s weird) a car accident (not us thankfully) we found ourselves not on our scheduled flight home.
We hunkered down in the Food Court of the Airport, for six hours. IT ROCKED! Hi! Have you met my four year old? Oh he is in your lap? Oh he is eating your lunch? Oh? Hi!
Four year olds in general are so low energy that they are easy to contain in a situation where the adults are a little bit cranky, and everyone else is in a very big hurry! Must get over there! Must. Get. Over. There.
So anyway. Our flight, the later one, and then the connection (oh how I hate connections) and then finally the landing in Seattle. And the pick up at the airport! And…oh whoops. We lost one.
Eighteen hours into our trip, he just couldn’t take it anymore. See how he is still in the car seat position? The Best Part about this? Is hoy boy! We still have a three hour drive home. Yahoo!
It was rather a long day. Just shy of a 24 hour trip. (Or a three hour tour). We pulled into the Burrow at 11:30pm Pacific (2:30am EST). We arrived home, a half hour before our Tenth Anniversary.
Ten Years, they tell me is a milestone. He says “wow, it doesn’t seem that long” and I say “wow, we have alot of teeth, between the too of us…seriously look..teeth everywhere.
But seriously. Ten years, married to your best friend? Is good. It’s really good. But I think the best thing I can tell you is after sleeping a very long time, last Thursday, I woke up. And laying next to me was, well my four year old, but on the other side of him? Was that tall drink of water I married ten years ago.
I won’t say our marriage is easy, because though it feels easy, I believe that is because neither of us are afraid of work. We know, marriage is work. Not the hard kind, but work, nonetheless.
I work every day at being a mom, and a wife. Not because I have to. But because I want to.
We have been lucky, he and I. Very,very lucky. And we know it. And at the end of the day, even if that day, is very very long, and spent in a car that is not moving, then frustrated at an airport,with two small boys, in a plane, with two small boys, in an airport, with two small boys,in another plane, with two small boys, in a car, with two small boys, another car…..
I want to be stuck with him. Cliche, but true. He is my rock, I am never afraid when he is near, because of him I find it within me to the hard things. He is the one that sets me straight, the one that encourages me to believe in myself and the person I want to talk to first in the morning and last at night.
Seriously….teeth, a lot of them.
*Say Hey (I love you)-Michael Franki and Spearhead