Ten years and one week

I've now been married for ten years and one week. Boy, what a ride! Two days after our wedding we went on our weeklong honeymoon to Hawaii. As soon as we got back, we went on our weeklong drive across the country to live in Michigan. Lived there for 3.5 years while Sam finished up his PhD, and then lived in Illinois for 3.5 years where we became parents to two beautiful baby girls (two years apart), and then came back to California three years and a few weeks ago.

That first year was horrible -- I won't sugarcoat it. We were both young and immature, and still had a lot of growing up to do. Here I was, never having ever left the comfort of home for more than three weeks at a time, suddenly moving across the country where I knew not a single soul except for this poor husband of mine, who I expected to not only sweep me off my feet every day, but also entertain me, sing and dance for me, and put the toilet seat back down. Every day. And what in the world is all this football and basketball he's watching? Never when we were dating did he ever mention being a sports fan. Needless to say, neither of us really enjoyed that first year. But never -- not once -- did I ever regret having married him.

But you know what, after that first year, it got so much better. I learned to give him space and not harp on him, and he learned to not ask for so much space, and even began to harp on me. *laugh* And although he doesn't sweep me off my feet every single day, this man of mine (who grew up with no sisters) does consistently put the toilet seat back down. And you know what else? He planned a little weekend getaway for our anniversary.

We drove 50 miles east to my parents' house to drop off the kids. And then we drove 100 miles WEST (50 miles back, past the house, and then kept going another 50 miles) to spend the night in the city. We had sushi for dinner (some of the best we've had in a long time), shared two desserts that we didn't have to share with two dessert-hungry kids, and then went to sleep whenever we felt like it. The next morning we woke up whenever we felt like it, then had dim sum for brunch, walked around Chinatown and Union Square for a while, and then had frozen yogurt before going back to pick up the kids. After the kids finished napping, we took my parents out to a Thai restaurant for dinner. (My dad loves peanuts and had never tried Thai food!) We had a good dinner, then went back to their place to watch some basketball (okay, my husband watched), and then trekked 50 miles back to our house.

It was a good 10 years, and it was a good weekend to celebrate our 10 years. And would I do it over again? In a heartbeat. Even that first year. Because I know it's not the end of the story -- it's just the beginning.