Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Eight


Eight is great. Yes? Yes. If anything, it feels momentous. I mean, 10 is so close!

While the past year may not have been the life of leisure I had hoped we'd have after the moves, remodeling and changes that year seven brought us, it wasn't too darned bad. It feels good to be where we are. We love our new old home, the kids have adjusted quite nicely and we are all in a groove that feels good. Good enough that we can talk about things that the future holds for us in terms of careers, house improvements, schooling, travel, etc., without feeling completely overwhelmed. That is not to say that we do not have our moments of flat-out frustration when life (or the house, really) unleashes its latest surprise on us, one that usually comes with its fair share of zeroes behind us. But as always, communication is the key, and we get through it. With, as always, a little help from our ever-patient, always resourceful, family and friends. 

Just two weekends ago, as we took turns rearranging the buffet at the Mizzou tailgate, we commented to your sister that here we go, we're working against each other again. There are days where I feel like (usually) unbeknownst to one another, we are locking car doors when someone needs them open, turning off lights that were on for a reason, dealing with a kid-related issue in completely different fashions or putting away backpacks that someone was mere seconds away from searching for a lost bow or paper. I'm not going to lie, I don't like it when we're not in sync. It seems so silly. However, I did take two bits of comfort after airing this particular grievance in public. One, your sister commented that she and her husband go through the same phases as well. (So, hey, we are totally normal. At least for two stubborn Type A people with first-born child tendencies.) Two, when we say we're working against each other, we're typically talking about whether kitchen lights, table lamps and ceiling fans should be left on or off. So, perspective. Because we're not plotting the other's death. Yet. 

I realize the posts from the past two years have not been all butterflies and rainbows. And while that's not necessarily how I feel like the past two years have been, I do feel like it is a realistic reflection of a marriage. And of life, for that matter. Like I said, perspective. Because what it all comes down to is that at the end of the day, I sure am happy you're mine.

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