252,288,000 seconds I love.

Yesterday was my 8th anniversary.

8 years ago, this chica got the guy. Legally.

It hasn’t been the easiest 8 years.

By our first anniversary we had 2 kids, a dog and had to move to the ‘burbs. We spent our first anniversary having a quick lunch (and glass of wine) while the in-laws babysat the 2 month-old twins.

My husband told me that if we kept up at that pace, he won’t survive to the second.

Good news- He survived.

Since then we added a third. Started a company. Folded a company. Lost a grandparent. Made 8 trips to the hospital. Had 3 surgeries. Two sets of stitches. 4 cars. 1 accident. Numerous fights. Two births. A broken leg. One concussion. House-broke one dog. Moved. A weird viral heart inflammation thingy that scared the bejesus out of me. Potty trained 3 kids. A couple of jobs. Almost lost a kid (both literally and figuratively) more times that I care to actually figure out. Laughed more than cried. Cried more than you’d think. Watch a parent battle cancer (and still do- go Dad!) Weathered/ing a major economic storm.

It’s not sweetness and light, nor is it picture perfect.

I honestly think the perfect  life-partner is really about  finding the perfect foxhole partner.

Who watches your back, who celebrates the victories and who do you seek shelter with from desperate and tumultuous times? Who worries for you and cares for you when you’re too overwhelmed to take care of yourself? Who would you kill for and know, with utmost confidence, know would kill for you? Who would go without, so you may have some small joy? Who roots for you with most have given up and gone home? Who is your biggest fan?

It’s your foxhole partner. While the war of life may rage above you, you know that that one person next to you- you’re going to make it. Without them, you won’t. You care about, rely, and protect this person with all you have at your disposal- body, mind and soul.

8 years ago, 252,288,000 seconds ago this chica got that guy.

Her foxhole partner.