Eighteen Months Old

Today, Jericho and I are eighteen months old. Eighteen months. We're definitely still newbies. [Keen Mary decided to count her marriage age in months until they reached the two year mark, much like you do with children. It makes sense so I shall do the same.] 

It seemed the first few months of marriage went by rather slowly. Not in a bad way. Lots of transitions and newness. Lots of excitement on our new adventures.

But newness and adventures wane a little and you get caught into the swing of life. Adventures still come along and you learn your lessons together instead of individually. You learn how to make things fun and not sweat the small stuff.

You learn that you're not just playing house. But it is comforting to have a house, a friend in that house every day to come home to, and a husband that provided that house. And mows the lawn and builds shelves and vacuums and plants bushes and yells at the construction people for oozing mud all over our beautiful grass.

No matter how busy we are, I'm still thankful every day that I'm married to Jericho. He is my constant.* He is my confidant and comedian. He is my cheerleader and tissue box. And he thinks I'm funny.

I'm glad I have someone that goes fun places with me and even some places that aren't fun. Well, maybe not fun for him but I think the bookstore is fantastically fun. To know you'll never be alone in anything is delightful and totally spoiling.

You're pretty stinking in love on the day you get married. But every day after tells you just how much you didn't know about love on that day. It's a pretty small day in comparison to everything else that you have from that day forward. I'm excited for many more months to come.

Happy eighteen months to my favorite person ever. 

*see Season 5 of LOST