Happy Eight Years

It's that time of year again, where I'm nearly thrown on my back by just how fast time has gone by. Our anniversary. It seems like just yesterday we met at the church, went through a rocky, but cherished, relationship, got married, spent precious time together, just me and him, and realized we were expecting our first child. After three years of late nights, late mornings, and only worrying about ourselves.

Now, all the sudden, we have three kids and eight years have flown by. It's CRAZY, I tell you. We aren't even the same people we were back then.

We are better now, more seasoned (ha! I'll be saying to myself ten or twenty years in the future as I read this). Our marriage doesn't go without its hiccups, and things definitely aren't easy anymore.

But I love Dave more everyday, and I am so grateful for the man, husband, and father that he is. I mean it when I say that I really, truly could not picture anyone better for me than him. I am the luckiest gal alive. I'm so grateful for the eight years of marriage we've had to grow as individuals, a couple, and as parents, and that we could build such a perfect little family.


Eight down, the rest of eternity to go. I love you, babe. MORE.