Today is my eighth wedding anniversary with Greg. And eight is great. Greg has more patience than I deserve. Oh sure, he has his quirks, but his ability to deal with mine is uncanny. Seriously, he GETS me. And that is a tall order. I know I can be difficult.
To celebrate this brilliant occasion I would like to share a story about us. When we were dating, the issue of kids came up. At the time, I didn’t think I wanted to have kids. I attribute this feeling to the fact that I had never been with anyone I wanted to have kids with. Before him, having kids seemed like something I would have to do alone if I ever wanted any. Greg on the other hand knew he didn’t want any more kids. He already had one beautiful boy from his first but failed marriage. He was certain he didn’t want any more. His adamancy about this became a hot topic for us as we plunged further and further into head-over-heels-in-love land. I wasn’t sure I wanted that door closed, and as far as he was concerned he had locked the door, swallowed the key, waited for it to be pooped out, and then buried it in the middle of the Nevada desert. Somewhere.
Then one day, one remarkable day, Greg took Jacob to his swim lesson. As he sat and watched his boy swim, he swelled with pride and unconditional love. At that moment he realized this was something that he didn’t want me to miss in life. I want to be clear about something. I love and adore Jacob. We had then and still have today a great relationship, but I was never any kind of replacement or substitute for his own loving and adoring mother. I was more of a loving addition to his growing family.
Fast-forward four years or so, and Braedyn was born. I enjoyed being a mom more than I ever could have imagined, so much so that I had a confession for my ever-giving husband. I wanted one more. Just one more. C’mon. I mean, really, what’s one more when you’ve already got the house baby-proofed? His response? Um. No. Resounding and certain. No.
Valentine’s day was several weeks after my emotionally charged confession. This is one Valentine’s I will never forget. This is a picture of what I received:
This locket with a picture of Braedyn on one side and a spot for “Baby #2” on the other exemplifies what kind of man I am lucky to be married to.
I’m sure it was painful and a tad disgusting to locate that damn key, but I’m so glad he did it. Twice. We now have a charming and energetic boy that can unabashedly look up to his father as a wonderful example of how to be a great man and a beautiful and painfully stubborn daughter that has him wrapped around her little finger.
Thanks, Greg, for digging through the poop for me. I love you, and happy anniversary.