Lingerie and Jet Fuel

Rob and I just celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary. Our celebration was very low key. We dined on fine hot dogs and exchanged gifts. Part of the lack anything more spectacular was that we don't know a babysitter yet and part was that Rob had to work that day. Part of the difference between that and previous celebrations was a not-so-subtle shift in what we find romantic.

Last week I unpacked a box labeled simply "pajamas." In in I found my wedding lingerie. I sat there holding this stuff in my lap and simply staring at it. Honestly, I had forgotten that I had it. I feel special if he doesn't go to bed smelling like jet fuel. I don't remember that being on my 'list of desirable qualities in a mate' list that I had. To romance me he must first bathe...yeah, not sure that ever crossed my mind as a form of romance. I'm also pretty sure that if he had offered to let me go the store alone to shop for paint six years ago I would have been annoyed that he wanted to get out of running errands with me. This time, it was one of the highlights of my month. Two hours completely alone? To shop for paint? Honey, THANK YOU!

Regardless, that night I put on the lingerie, feeling slightly idiotic (and amazed that it still fit), like he didn't know every inch of my body underneath it and love me despite my flaws. His comment, "I remember that stuff!" wasn't exactly what I was going for. We both got a good case of the giggles. It's what I imagine the great romances were made of.

We've hit that point in our marriage where we find intimacy in the knowledge that we have our whole lives to discover each other, that we belong completely to each other, that we are building something worthwhile together. Seeing him playing with his son is far sexier than him mowing the lawn shirtless ever could be. The emotions have burned off the relationship and what's left is solid, deep, it's commitment, it's our choice to stay together, it's grounded in God and the family that we have made together, it has been tested by distance, by loss, by tragedy. It isn't a piece of silk over exposed legs...it's better than that. It's knowing that whatever I need him for, he's there, that he is mine and mine alone. It's why I'll follow him wherever he goes even when it takes me from my loved ones. It's a bond that only grows deeper with every passing day. It's being willing to put in the work to have one love for one lifetime.

It's simple, it's perfect, it's happiness...

I didn't "fall in love," I chose to love him. I make that choice every single day. I'll make that choice over and over again until death do us part.

Happy Anniversary my love...

My Kind of Chaos

After weeks of being overwhelmed by all that has been thrown at us in such a short time, I finally woke up this morning with my head screwed on straight. I am ready! In the last month, we have looked for and found a house, had our offer accepted, done the inspection, applied for our loan, had the whole house struck down with the plague, and started packing. All this with only a few mental breakdowns. Now I have my deadline, I have a plan, and best of all...I have a list!

Yesterday, I went through a pile of mail four months deep and filed everything. I started to pull everything for taxes out so it doesn't get packed (I do learn something new with every move!). Patted myself on the back for not finding any unpaid bills in that stack (whew! can't say that has never happened before). I put aside everything needed to run errands today in an organized manner. Finally, while I was working I listened to a seminar on how to begin teaching discipline to very small children. I did a couple weeks worth of laundry, washed diapers, washed dishes, cleaned up the living room, got a massage and spent some quality time with Gus.

Today, I woke at an ungodly hour (did you know there is a 630 in the morning? I didn't...), ran errands for a couple hours before the boys woke up. Then I fed the small creatures of the house, picked up all the small bits of trash from the yard that have finally been released from the icy grasp of winter, worked in the garage for a little while, washed the fake greenery so it can be packed, and ran more errands at places that keep more civilized business hours. Now I'm blogging for the first time in a while and drinking a big glass of water.

Next on my list is packing the rest of the decor and breakables and then the serving dishes and more bizarre kitchen gadgets I can probably live without over the next month, canning supplies, and extra bedding. It is so nice to have my motivation and energy back. I am woman, hear me roar!

Two Months

We finally got the computer back yesterday after not having it for two months. All I want to do is be on the Internet, catching up. My son, however, decided that instead, we are going to baby-proof this week. That's right folks, he's mobile! He has mastered the scooting roll and can cover distances of ten feet or so in less than two minutes. What is a scooting roll you ask? The scooting roll is where you draw your knees to you chest as you roll from your back to your belly. As you complete the roll to the stomach, you launch yourself forward off your knees and face-plant in the carpet. If you do it right you can gain 3-6 inches on your forward distance with each roll. He is sporting his first goose egg from pulling the camera with a dangling cord down on himself so our days of leaving him unsupervised on the floor while we shower or cook dinner are over until I get this house baby-proofed at the lowest level.

It is amazing to me how each child discovers mobility in a different way. Each baby I have interacted with has learned to scoot and then crawl with a different technique: traditional crawl, stiff-legged crawl, one-leg-stiff-the-other-bent crawl, the army crawl, the frog scoot and plop, the drag-your-legs-behind-you crawl, the swimming crawl. I wonder if Gus will show me a new one.