When I got married, twelve years ago today on a particularly cold St. Patrick's Day, Chris was 35. I was 23. Looking back on pictures of us I don't seem to have aged too much (although I've gained about 20 pounds), but the wear and tear of working outside and living life has hard as possible has put some city miles on Chris.
Twelve years ago I would never have dreamed that I would have four children someday. I did have a psychic tell me that once, when I was a starry eyed 17 year old. She also told me that I would have lower back problems. Which I don't. So, I guess she was right about the kids (even though sometimes back problems seem like they might be easier to deal with than my crew).
I was thinking how it's funny that many people make wedding vows to one another at such young ages. At the age of 23 I was relatively young still. Albeit a bit more mature than some people my age, but for the most part...I was a typical 23 year old.
I had no way of knowing if I was doing the right thing. I was 23. Young and in love. Blinded by love and excitement, as many people are who get married.
I would be wrong to say that the past 12 years have been easy. On the contrary, they have been the hardest 12 years of my life. But they have also been the most wonderful twelve years of my life.
I find that it's easy to dwell on the things that upset me. It's easier to remember negative things and poor choices than it is to remember the good. For some reason, those bad experiences stay with us...and can become all consuming - which can cause a person to forget why they ever loved the person they're married to in the first place.
It's much harder to dwell on the happy things. As if those moments of fun and bliss are fleeting. Perhaps those memories are the moments I should circulate in my head. If I could focus on those happy and wonderful moments maybe those harder times wouldn't be so hard. Moments like these: the time Chris sent me flowers at work (before we were dating!), when Chris won me in a pool game from my ex-boyfriend (not trashy at all!), when Chris sat and watched me have a complete meltdown and then told me what I needed to hear to make me feel better (which was "But you're butt looks great in those jeans."), how Chris helped me deliver all 4 of our babies without blinking an eye, how he doesn't laugh at me when I go golfing with him (although he grits his teeth and cusses), and how he just does the silliest things because he knows I like stupid silly gestures (like pranking me on the phone even though I have caller ID and know it's him).
The other morning I woke up and found an age spot. It's right on my left wrist. Chris tried to tell me it's just a mole, but it's not. I know what moles look like, this is an age spot.
It appears as if I'm starting to show my city miles too.
And I hope I continue to do so with the man who drives me insane, but also provides a warm chest to rest my head on. Plus, he's 12 years older than me...so he's always going to look older...making me appear to look much younger. :) You can't beat that! Maybe it wasn't young love that caused me to marry him but instead a wise aging strategy.
Twelve years ago I would never have dreamed that I would have four children someday. I did have a psychic tell me that once, when I was a starry eyed 17 year old. She also told me that I would have lower back problems. Which I don't. So, I guess she was right about the kids (even though sometimes back problems seem like they might be easier to deal with than my crew).
I was thinking how it's funny that many people make wedding vows to one another at such young ages. At the age of 23 I was relatively young still. Albeit a bit more mature than some people my age, but for the most part...I was a typical 23 year old.
I had no way of knowing if I was doing the right thing. I was 23. Young and in love. Blinded by love and excitement, as many people are who get married.
I would be wrong to say that the past 12 years have been easy. On the contrary, they have been the hardest 12 years of my life. But they have also been the most wonderful twelve years of my life.
I find that it's easy to dwell on the things that upset me. It's easier to remember negative things and poor choices than it is to remember the good. For some reason, those bad experiences stay with us...and can become all consuming - which can cause a person to forget why they ever loved the person they're married to in the first place.
It's much harder to dwell on the happy things. As if those moments of fun and bliss are fleeting. Perhaps those memories are the moments I should circulate in my head. If I could focus on those happy and wonderful moments maybe those harder times wouldn't be so hard. Moments like these: the time Chris sent me flowers at work (before we were dating!), when Chris won me in a pool game from my ex-boyfriend (not trashy at all!), when Chris sat and watched me have a complete meltdown and then told me what I needed to hear to make me feel better (which was "But you're butt looks great in those jeans."), how Chris helped me deliver all 4 of our babies without blinking an eye, how he doesn't laugh at me when I go golfing with him (although he grits his teeth and cusses), and how he just does the silliest things because he knows I like stupid silly gestures (like pranking me on the phone even though I have caller ID and know it's him).
The other morning I woke up and found an age spot. It's right on my left wrist. Chris tried to tell me it's just a mole, but it's not. I know what moles look like, this is an age spot.
It appears as if I'm starting to show my city miles too.
And I hope I continue to do so with the man who drives me insane, but also provides a warm chest to rest my head on. Plus, he's 12 years older than me...so he's always going to look older...making me appear to look much younger. :) You can't beat that! Maybe it wasn't young love that caused me to marry him but instead a wise aging strategy.
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