Happy Anniversary

Yesterday Bryan, Eden, and I went to Babies R Us to get a few things for our trip. As we were leaving the store, I was pushing Eden in the stroller and Bryan was a few strides ahead of us, carrying the bag (why do they always give us such a huge bag?). The way he was walking, confident and sure, and the fact that he was happily carrying diapers and formula and disposable changing table covers, made me realize I'm married to a man. And I am so proud to be his wife, so proud of who he has become. He is a father, and a really amazing one at that. He's a saint of a husband to put up with my garbage. He is completely devoted to both of his girls.

I remember on our wedding night, when we checked into the hotel, I came out of the bathroom to see him sitting on the end of the bed, kicking his legs. At that moment I realized we were children. We were eighteen and most of the time we thought we knew it all, but there and then I realized we were still babies. And as the years have passed I have realized more and more how young we were then.

But growing up with my best friend has been incredible. We know each other so well. We have a wealth of shared experience - including four years of college, a semester abroad, three years of grad school, and a beautiful baby girl. And now we're grownups - we're parents, we've got real jobs, big bills, and real responsibility. I don't know when it happened, but we're grownups.

Yes, we've changed, but I am still so happy he is the one I wake up next to every day, he's the one I lay down with every night, he's the one who loves me so much I can't even fathom how he puts up with me, and he's the one I love so much it hurts sometimes to even look at his sleeping face.

Eight years after I saw him kicking his legs at the foot of a hotel bed, I know we're different people. But I love him even more now that I ever thought possible back then. The past eight years have not always been easy, but at the end of the day I wouldn't trade them for anything. And I can't wait to see where the next eight years, and the next eighty years, take us.

Happy Anniversary, Babe.