I won't be winning wife of the year any time soon, seeing as I'm a week late with this post. I didn't even acknowledge it the day it happened. There was no card or special dinner, or other indication that I knew it was taking place.
But it's important to acknowledge just the same.
Because 9 years and a week ago, I met the man who would become the love of my life.
Although things aren't as glamorous around here as they once were - what with the handling of other people's bodily functions, the fact that I forget big anniversaries or that I tried and failed to find a recent photo of just the two of us that doesn't also involve most of Casey's arm, and the fact that until last week, it had been over a year since we'd seen a movie in a theatre - but without question I'm happier now that I would ever have imagined possible.
And I'll go ahead and admit it: part of my New Year's resolution is to make a greater effort in our marriage. We're going to try for date night once a month; something that hasn't exactly happened regularly since Leah was born.
Yes, I'm part of a very special love story. The kind of love story every young girl should dream of. It's a love story that deserves to be treasured and protected, because I'm lucky enough to know every day that that's what my husband does for me.
Happy 9 years to my best friend and the love of my life.