We walked around our college campus a couple weeks ago, kids and all. As expected, it brought back a lot of memories. But besides reminiscing about all of the late nights in the design building and the walks across campus and the Campaniling, all I could do was look around at the students as they passed and exclaim, “They don’t know ANYTHING! They don’t know ANYTHING about ANYTHING! WE didn’t know ANYTHING!”

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Apologies college students. I know that’s not exactly true. But seven years later and it sort of feels like it.


The kids were packed off this weekend, to give us peace and quiet and time to celebrate. We bumped into a groom (of course we did) as we walked around the Cathedral downtown, just a half-hour ahead of his own wedding. He was in the back as we were about to leave, all suited up, boutonniere in place, on a picture-perfect beautiful fall day just like our own. Tyson figured out who he was first, before I did. “You’re the groom?” I blurted out, “Congratulations!!!” (I know that three exclamation points are not editorially correct here, but had you been there, you would have heard those three exclamation points.) “We’ll be celebrating seven years in two days. Before you know it, it will be seven years later and you’ll have a mortgage and three kids!”

Yeesh. Fortunately, I didn’t scare the poor guy. He flashed a grin and said, “Great! That’s what I’m hoping for!” So he’ll be all right. Even though he looked about twelve.

I had the grace to not blurt out everything I wanted to say. Mostly I was thinking about how that handsome groom ALSO DIDN’T KNOW ANYTHING. Neither did his bride. Not a thing. They had absolutely no freaking idea, as they were minutes away from walking down the aisle, what on Earth they were getting themselves into.

Of course, it’s not their fault. We didn’t, either.

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Seven years in and we’re actually not sick of each other. No itch here. We still enjoy each other’s company, can have conversations that last for hours (or would if we didn't look at the clock and do the math to calculate how much sleep we have a chance of getting in before the kids wake up), and look forward to ditching the kids with Nana and Papa to grab 30+ uninterrupted hours of meals, sleep, and discussion to celebrate ourselves.

Seven years seems like both an impossibility and an eternity. In some ways that number doesn’t even seem possible - are we actually even old enough to have been married that long? Then again, so much has happened since October 2nd, 2010 that I must be doing the math wrong. Surely that many life events can't possibly have been packed into such a short amount of time.

We’ve spent the past seven years growing up together. Thinking of us as actual "grown-ups" still seems weird, though I suppose we've earned the title given all the kids and the minivan and the 30+ years we each possess and the fact that we spent a good chunk of our child-free time this weekend cleaning out the garage and enjoying it. (I’m still cool, I swear.) We spent the entirety of our 20s together, most of it married, as we went from living with roommates in college apartments to living in just-slightly nicer apartments together and then into a real, actual, bona fide house.

Speaking of moving up in the world: remember our first dining set? It was a folding table and chairs. We graduated to a "some assembly required" model of dubious construction from Target, and one of the most thrilling days of my life was last summer, when a truck from a real, live, actual furniture store delivered our current dining table to our house - chairs, bench, and all - fully put together, carried by other people that we could actually afford to pay to place it exactly where I wanted it set up, ready to go. Magic!  

We've learned how to cook (me), how to precisely load the dishwasher (you), and how to raise babies (both still learning).


Not only are we celebrating seven years of marriage today, but this May marked a decade since we met and (one hot second later) started dating. Ten years together. How on Earth? 

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(Oh, and I *could* have bought you a card but instead I just put together the 700+ words above AND saved us $4.99 and it's definitely not like I totally forgot or anything. Happy Anniversary!)


We've been here for a year.

When everyone knew we were moving to Minnesota - back to Minnesota, for me - lots of people said, "You must be excited to move back home!" and I kind of shrugged and nodded and agreed, but didn't really know how I felt.  I mean, I hadn't really lived here for a decade - 10 years and a couple of months - so it didn't quite feel like moving back "home".  We were pretty well settled in Madison.  Family aside, it sure didn't feel like I was moving "back" home so much as I was moving away from it.

Plus, let us all please recall the whole "20-weeks pregnant + twin toddlers + moving states + buying a house + Tyson working out-of-state" utter ridiculousness that was our life last year.  Ahem.

(Boxes and babies in an empty playroom.)

(Exploring inside.)

(Exploring outside.)

(Our OWN SWINGSET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!)

We've unpacked the boxes.  Hung pictures on the wall.  Purchased some furniture.  Filled the pantry.  Made meal after meal after meal in the kitchen.  Met the neighbors.  Made some friends.  Taken care of the yard, shoveled the snow, built the sandbox, claimed the neighborhood park as our own.

We've added a member to the family.

And filled up that playroom (and not just with more children).

It feels like home now, y'know?  

Our house - "my boo (blue) house", as the twins call it - feels like our own now.  Not just another temporary place to move on from, like Tyson and I were so used to, but a place to stay and grow and live and breathe and continue to make our own.  We kind of like this place. 

We'll keep it for at least another year.  


Six years.

At six years, the details of that day are getting a little bit fuzzy.  At one year, at two, at three...I could tell you exactly what I was doing at practically every minute of our wedding day.  What time I woke up to decorate for the reception, when I was getting my hair done, what time I arrived at the church, walked down the aisle, etc.

Some of that has faded now.  I remember that it was beautiful.  The weather was perfect.  The food was delicious, though I could barely relax enough to eat any.  I was in love with our flowers, the suits, the dresses, and, most of all, you.

Six years in, and we're settling into what our life is.  No more wandering the unknown of grad school (or, really, the unknown of post-grad school).  We're here.  Three kids, a mortgage, the minivan. 

We didn't know what we were getting ourselves into.

And yet, six years for us looks settled.  And despite a chaotic past year (a move!  a  new baby!  twin toddlers!  a job out-of-state!), it's starting to feel a lot quieter, calmer.  More settled.  We're ready for that.

Here's to the past six.  And six more.  Or sixty.  Even better.

(Years, that is.  Not kids.  Yikes.)


Five years ago we planned to take a vacation, like our honeymoon to Jamaica, for every fifth anniversary as a rejuvenating getaway.  In theory, that sounds absolutely, totally, ridiculously doable.

Then, as it does, life happened.

That vacation is going to have to be postponed for awhile.

Instead, this year you graduated with your PhD (YAY!!!) and started a new job.

We have a move juuuuuuuust over the horizon.

To our very own (first!) home.

We have the most adorable twin toddlers.

And...another on the way.

Last year, our four year seemed so appropriate that four years also marked the first year we celebrated being a family of four.  When writing last year, I never dreamed that the five year mark would see us soon expanding to a family of five.

(Note: this number of years married = number of people in our family has really gotta slow down.  It's not gonna be sustainable for too much longer.)

So...that vacation?


Maybe next year.

(I see us going to bed at 10, sleeping "in" until 8, watching anything but PBS on TV, eating several consecutive meals without once having to get up to refill a cup or deal with spilled (aka thrown) food, with no babies or babies on the way, so we can indulge in all the fruity, girly drinks we can handle.  Deal?  Deal.)


First comes love...

...then comes marriage...

...then comes a ba-

...wait a minute here...



Ok, fine.

A baby...

...and then ANOTHER baby... a (double-long) baby carriage.

(I think we skipped a step here...)

Happy (fourth!) Anniversary honey!  Here's to us...

...the FOUR of us.