Tomorrow is our ninth anniversary. Every morning of my life I wake up grateful. No matter what goes on in my day, I get to come home to my husband and that is a truly wonderful thing.
I hope when our son grows up and is looking to settle down, he thinks we are admirable role models. I hope we are showing him that two people can like each other, love each other, be stubborn, be moody, be happy, be silly, be sad, be at their best and at their worst, and be together the whole way. I hope he is learning that mutual respect and genuine fondness make for a good marriage. I hope he sees that loving people support each other, even when it means listening to something you’re probably sick of hearing (sorry, Honey), or coexisting with things you might not entirely understand. I hope he looks at us and it makes him feel positive about his own future.
I like my husband. Even at our worst, I always like him. I respect him. I admire him. I am so proud of how hard he works to make our lives comfortable, and am just proud of him in general. He is brilliant. You will not meet a stronger intellect. He is kind and generous. He makes me laugh like no one else in the world. He is good to our extended family, and has proven himself over and over again with his willingness to help.
There is nowhere else I would rather be than with him.