15 years

Fifteen.  It's an innocuous number.  Not the biggest number I've ever heard.

But.  Then I realize that's how long we've been married.

And all the sudden that number seems huge.  A decade.  AND A HALF!

And I can watch it all in my mind.  Like a series of movie clips, running forward and backwards.  The years blending into themselves.  Isolated into moments and still frames blurred together with lots of "was this first" or "was that first" kinds of questions.  Shocking in both the clarity of the moment and blurred backgrounds from the passage of time.

Wow.  Just wow.  We've been through a lot.  A lot of hours and projects and meals, words and tears and diapers, hand holding and arguments and laughter.  Things we never thought we would do, places we never thought we'd be.  But then you're there--and the only choice is to put our heads down and get through it.

And then, that's how you know.  That this bond was forged in The Refiner's fire.  That we are bound together by more than just words or contract, but by blood and bone.  The surety that no matter the argument or the loss, the frustration, that we are one flesh.  Unable to be separated, one from the other.

We've changed a lot.  There are many more gray hairs and wrinkles now.  A running commentary on our aches and pains (that sadly I think might only get worse).  And somethings are still the same (if slightly modified by the extra bodies around the table).  The morning coffee.  The slightly abrupt and abbreviated morning conversation while one of us wakes up.  The drawers that one of us always leaves open.  So time has both shaped us into more of and less of the people that we were, in strokes both broad and sweeping and with detailed intricacy.

I love you so very much.  I am so grateful for you.  God has been gracious and bountiful in his blessings to me.  I am only more aware of it every single day.  You are so much more then I could have ever asked for.  I love you more at this moment in time than I did this moment 15 years ago.  I will love you always.  and forever.  no matter what.

Seven.

We have a Birthday in the HOUSE!

Why is it such an odd thing as they turn another year older? Why am I somewhat stunned every time we reach a new milestone? 7 years old. Like all moms I want to cry into my soup about "I remember when he was a baby..." Because I totally do. I can think about him at every single age. I can picture this chubby baby who would NEVER sleep (still doesn't) and a toddler saying "hold you mommy" with outstretched arms.

Now there is this boy who rides bikes and scooters and has his camo belt in tae kwan do. He can take the dog for short walks by himself and make his own bed. So many things that he does all by himself. And you know, there is that question in your head "when was the last time I carried him? Did I realize then that it would be the last time?" And what other last times are happening right now that I don't even notice....

I am SO grateful for the decision to homeschool. I feel like I have gotten to know my Nick in ways I might not have otherwise. How if he doesn't want to do his schoolwork, he just tells me that he "doesn't know how". (Seriously dude, you are not fooling me). How he is so completely analytical. His mind never, ever, EVER turns off. I know most kids minds don't, but I can see the subtle differences between he and Jake. It's like pieces of a puzzle and he is constantly putting the pieces in so the gears can keep turning. And logical, we need the reason for everything. And I'll be honest, I'm a tired mom of 4, I don't have a reason for everything.

I remember when he was 3 sitting in the back of the car during carline to pick up Jake. He had been asking me about 600 "why" questions on the 45 second ride up to the school. Then I hear in the back of the car "Mommy, why I ask why?" My response then was something like "I don't know buddy..." Oh, I wish I could be asked that question again because I would turn around to that 3 year old and say, "because you are figuring it all out. You need to know the answers."

I am so proud of this boy. I am so proud of how he is maturing. I am so proud of how he says "yes ma'am", even when he doesn't want to. I love to watch him with his brothers and sister. I love that he is naturally my most introverted child. I love that he is also the most introspective.

I am so grateful for this boy and his dimple that melts my heart (I tell him that's how I know if it's a real smile...). I love that all my nicknames for him cause him some degree of embarrassment (it's a mother's prerogative).

I love you Nick. You bring untold joy and delight to our family. You are marvelous and wonderful and we ADORE you.

Love you forever, no matter what!

A Date

So, my girl answered the door tonight to a handsome man, waiting to take her on a date.

This was an event that has been met with great anticipation. Well, actually, not at first. The Big Guy asked his only daughter out on a date, and she told him she "didn't know" if she wanted to go or not. Seriously, can this girl play coy or what. I only hope that she can hold out this same attitude when boys ask her out later in her life....

So, we got ready just like a real date. Fancy dress. Nail polish. Sparkly shoes. (Honestly, this girl and I have a sparkly shoe addiction--we truly believe that you toes should have a little bling on them at every opportunity possible).

And Daddy arrived at the front door, rose in hand. I hope that I can remember the look on her face, the utter delight at someone doing something unexpectedly sweet for you...my strong-willed, super sure of herself girl, had a look of delight and impish shyness on her face. And as we buttoned up her coat, she wanted to know why Daddy had gotten her a flower with a bow on it. So, we got to talk for 45 seconds about how a gentleman acts when he would like to take a young lady out on a date. One of those talks that I hope we have about 4000 more times before a gentleman actually wants to take this young lady out on a date....

And I am so thrilled to be married to a man who will take his daughter to a dance on a Saturday night. That of his own accord, he thought to get her flowers and get his car washed and knock on the front door. That he loves his daughter so much, he will act love out for her again and again and again so that she will know how to recognize it when it knocks on our door years from now.

Beautiful Lady. You are treasured and adored. You are simply fantastic. May you twirl and twirl and find adoring eyes always looking down on you.