I recently had my 10 year mark pass for my husband and I. We started dating on April 13th, 2007. It was a Friday the 13th and we have always joked that Friday the 13th is a lucky day for us.
I first met him in high school, I was a freshman and he was a junior. We didn’t really talk or hang out because we ran in different circles, plus juniors weren’t supposed to hang with freshmen. So not cool to do. We went to the same church though, and our parents (his mom, my dad) taught Sunday school classes together for a couple years. It was a nice little family connection, but he and I never really spoke or socialized often.
We reconnected in 2007 through MySpace (do you remember MySpace? It used to be the shit) when he commented on one of my pictures. We started messaging back and forth and within a couple weeks, he invited me to a party at his house. I was 19 and he was 21 at the time. I had a cold, but he offered to buy me “chick beer” and give me a massage to help me feel better if I came… how could I say no?
We spent the next couple months working the long-distance thing, until I quit my crap job and moved back home and his roommates (a sucky couple) told him they were moving out and he needed to find a new place to live by the end of the month. He moved back in with his parents and we both started saving to get a place together.
At 7 months together, we were renting a house (with that same sucky couple, I’m still not sure how that happened) with a joint checking account, shared car insurance, and a shared phone plan. I’m sure my parents hated how quickly we were moving, but they didn’t say much. I imagine that’s because I’ve always been very headstrong and I wouldn’t have listened to them anyway. However, they both didn’t like him and didn’t want him in their house for several months in the very beginning of our relationship because I would come into town without telling them and stay with him. They didn’t approve of us sleeping together when we were so young/just started dating.
He proposed on Christmas day 2008 and we spent the next 14 months planning our wedding and seriously wondering if this was the right decision. My mom was a lot more vocal about disapproving of our decision at this point. She kept telling me we were too young, I was too young and we weren’t ready for this level of commitment. She and I had a lot of fights about it. My older sister and I fought a lot, and Hubby (I learned a couple years ago) seriously considered ending things because my family was too much work. They are a lot of work, but they realized that I wasn’t going to change my mind and they were just driving wedges between us and pushing me away. They eventually shut up.
March 13, 2010. Our wedding day. Exactly one month before our third anniversary together. The wedding was a full 6 minutes and 27 seconds from the time I walked down the aisle to the time we walked out together (I have a video if you don’t believe me) and the party lasted all night.
We spent 3 years living with my parents so I could quit my job, and go to school full time. I got a BA in History for Sam Houston State University, and started teaching high school freshmen World Geography in 2013.
We closed on our house at the end of August 2013, got pregnant in September of 2013 and lost that baby on October 20th 2013. Worst day of my life; bar none. I’ll write more about that at a later date, since that is not the purpose of this particular post.
Connor was more or less a surprise, as I didn’t expect to get pregnant again so quickly, but there we were, announcing our baby’s impending birth to our families on Christmas (2013).
Precious boy arrived on August 21, 2014 and I lost my job 7 months later. I was paid through the summer, but I couldn’t find another job. I spent the first half of the summer looking for teaching jobs, since that was my degree and my experience, but I only got two interviews and no call backs. Then I switched to finding any job at all. I was offered one job: daycare infant room making $9/hr. Talk about a pay cut. It wasn’t worth the money, so I ended up falling into being a stay-at-home-mom.
In December of 2015, we got pregnant with Kylar. This time, we held out on telling family until the end of my first trimester. They weren’t happy that we waited so long to tell them, but they were thrilled to have another baby in the family.
Sweetness was born on September 7, 2016 and our family was complete.
So why am I writing all of this? What is the point of this post, other than to share sweet pictures of my guys?
How do you think we managed to make it through all the drama with my family (and believe me, it was really bad, I’m just downplaying it)? How did we manage start a relationship while living two hours away from each other? How did we survive three (3!!) years living as newlyweds with my parents? How did we get through the loss of our baby? The loss of my job? Becoming a one income family? Raising two little boys?
It’s actually very simple: Priorities. We have always made each other our highest priority. We make a point to have couple time, even if it’s just sitting in silence, watching this week’s episode of The Flash. We communicate. Hubby isn’t great at expressing his feelings, but I have gotten pretty good at reading him. I don’t know when to shut up, but he’s good at sifting through the rambling to hear what’s important. We work well together because we work together. Marriage isn’t a magical happy ending where everything is perfect and nothing bad ever happens. Marriage takes work. Any good relationship takes some level of daily work/maintenance to ensure that it still runs well and everyone is happy.
I love my husband, but he’s not my best friend. He’s my life partner. He is my rock (cliche, yes, but accurate). He is the one I turn to when shit hits the fan, when the kids have pushed me too far and I need a break, when I need someone to tell me to calm the f*ck down and take a breath, when I need someone to get me through a panic attack. He’s my person.
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