Seven Years

David and I celebrate 7 years of marriage today. That's 2556 days, give or take depending on leap years and stuff. (This is a calculation for David- he handles the Math Issues in our relationship.)

We started as a family of two, and in 7 short- and sometimes long- years, we have grown to a family of FIVE. We have experienced the joy, miracle, and magic of welcoming each new member, as well as the bumps, bruises, and trials of becoming parents. We Survived Twins, sometimes I think we Barely Survived, but we did! We have struggled and changed and grown and reevaluated to be the parents, the couple, the people we are today.

We are different people today. We are more mature; stronger, and wiser. We have gained so much life experience in 7 years.

We are also the same. There are more layers now, and also less hair (him) and more gray hair and stretch marks (me). But beneath it all, we are young, hopeful, optimistic, crazy in love, eager to start our life together.

We were lumps of clay then. Our features were emerging, but we were mostly lumps. We have been molded: by each other, our children, our family, our friends, by God and our church and our faith, by trial and error, by learning on the fly, by success, and also by failure. By jobs and no jobs and having money and times without having money, by business deals and business partners and conflict and resolution. By facing ourselves and each other and wanting to grow and change and Become.

Those lumps of clay now have parts that are clear- our faces, perhaps. Maybe our hands. There are other parts that are taking on more shape- our family, our relationship, maybe our feet- planted more firmly than they were 7 years ago. But there are many parts that are still being molded and sculpted and drawn and redrawn. Our artists are still at work, chiseling away, tirelessly working to make us our most perfect selves. Our hearts are visible, yet changing and growing at an awesome rate.

Thank you, David, for seven years. You have transformed my life, and I cannot imagine it any other way. (Though I can imagine new living room furniture. And a fenced yard. And...)

Thank you Joan, Kate, and Marin. Thank you for challenging us, for not letting us off easy, for holding us accountable. Thank you for teaching us, for giving us room to learn, for your patience and grace and love. It was worth all the sleep loss, the fat lips from your collective fleet of bowling ball heads, the worry and frustration and endless hours of Wee Sing. Yes, you are worth having nothing but "Sally's wearing a red shirt, a red shirt, a red shirt, Sally's wearing a red shirt all day long" in my head. All the time. For you, I will not crush the CD into smithereens. Baby girls, you Rock!

Here's to seven plus seven plus seven plus seven plus eighty more years together.
(David could tell you exactly how many years that is.)