Today we celebrate our twenty-second anniversary. Well, I use celebrate in a loose way! I am unable to move much. I think Emma has dropped considerably and today, every step was painful. We did go out to an early dinner, but I was unable to eat very much. It was nice to spend time alone with Paul, but honestly, I was thankful to get back and lay down.
Another reason we didn't really celebrate was that we have a houseful of men working on our new room. Paul is furiously trying to finish the room so that we can move the kids around and have room for the baby, by the time the baby gets here. He had a crew here this morning, and when they left, we ran out to eat, and when we got back, the next crew was arriving. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm glad the work is getting done.
That's real life. I mean, it's great to really celebrate and do something very special and we generally try to do so. But this year life interrupted us with a baby and a room, and that's ok. We chuckled when we thought back to our young naive selves 22 years ago and wondered what we would have thought back then, if we knew at this point, we'd be expecting our seventh child and finishing a room to house them all. The more we thought about it, the more we were glad we didn't know way back when!
So Happy Anniversary Paul! There's no one else I'd rather take this journey with. You're a wonderful husband and have made sure I've been taken care of during this pregnancy. You've given up (at least with any consistency) of knowing there are clean socks in your drawers and clean shirts in your closet. You've put up with a messy house and meals made by novices. You've understood when I've not been able to do much of anything for so long. Thanks honey. You're the best.