I need to tell you something: I love this guy. And, last week, we celebrated him over brownies and ice-cream, candles and singing, and, earlier in the day, really bad Mexican food. (smile) Last Wednesday, my husband turned the big three-one, which means that, for a few short days, every person's age in our household consists of a three or a one. But, come next week, I ruin it all and add a two to the mix. The nerve! Oh, and you know that promise that I made a few weeks back? The one about taking more pictures with my husband? Well, we've gotten a head start on that New Year's resolution.
I should probably tell you that this here picture came at a cost. There was the finagling of the tripod and camera in our side yard to cut out our neighbor's roof, the almost-stepping-on-and-breaking-the-Christmas-lights by our excited three year old, the cold rain that began to drizzle as we set out the blanket, and the doggy poop-covered shoes that ended it all. Not to mention, in all of the craziness, we neglected to check how the shots were looking, and ended up with blurry photos. All twenty seven of them.
But I love this photo. It's us. Me all nerdy with Christmas lights wrapped around my neck and Steve just taking it all in stride and loving me for who I am. This thing called love and that other thing called marriage? I'm so thankful for them. I'm so thankful for him. I could tell you a thousand things about this man, but let me just tell you this one: he's my best friend. He sees my bad and ugly, and takes it all in stride, and loves me back. Our marriage isn't perfect. Because we're broken people, there's finagling and messes involved. But I would be remiss to not write here, on this little bloggity blog, how thankful I am for these fleeting moments. For this love. For this guy.