Happy anniversary to us! No adorable pictures because our first born babies aren’t awake yet to help me undo whatever muck-up I did to our scanner the last time I used it. The kids these days say, “Pics or it didn’t happen!” but I know for sure these last 15 years did happen. They happened and they rocked so hard! So hard that my body and soul are pretty much ruined. But we both still have our sense of humor! Good damn thing. The next 15 years are going to be even more rockin’, in part because our kids can wipe their own butts now and we can sit around and reminisce about butt-wiping and pretend that we miss those days. And then we can laugh and laugh because, while those days are lovely to think about, we both know that those were some deep trenches we were in and we’re lucky we got out alive. I’m glad to share those memories with you. I’m glad to have this family we created together. I’m glad the five of us can sit on the couch and watch Conan together. I’m glad you’re my best friend. I’m glad I’m the mother of most of your children. I’m just plain glad to have you in my life as my husband and father of most of my children.

The next 15 years are going to fly by, I know. And there will be brand-new trenches as we watch our kids navigate adulthood and we’ll mournfully wish, for their sake, that they were babies again. For now, though, I know how lucky we are to be in this moment right here. We have the best of everything in this little family.

Well of course we were in love back then, look how bright and shiny we were! That’s actually a prom picture from 17 years ago, but you get the idea.

Over the years, we’ve grown considerably less bright and shiny:

Lena's first morning at home

Liberty wearing me out

First peek at Maya

Bryan, you’re awesome and I love you, and you’ll always be bright and shiny to me. Happy 14th!

Our anniversary is tomorrow. Fourteen years, suckas! And you thought it wouldn’t last. I don’t know what it means that every year around this time Bryan asks, “How long were your parents married?” I hope I don’t find out that he had a secret bet with my dad and after our 19th anniversary, he’s going to call my dad and be like, “HA! I stayed married to one longer than you did. Pay up.” That would suck.

And Lena and Liberty turn 11 on Saturday. I haven’t even ruined them yet. Probably. April does sometimes kick me in the gut with the years-old fear that I had when things started to go downhill in my pregnancy and then Liberty’s surgery and recovery. I really have to tell myself that everything is fine and they’re both healthy and I’m not trapped inside a hospital while spring happens outside. I can eat whatever I want, not hospital food. And Liberty can breathe right on her very own. And I can see them both every single day instead of being too out of it and hemorrhage-y. I feel like I should get over it already, but it’s like body memory and when I look out the window at the sunshine and new leaves, I’m right back in that hospital looking out the window, watching spring happen, worrying, praying, crying, worrying, praying, crying.

Anyway, spring is stupid. Give me summer. Everything turned awesome that summer. Cute little onesies and babies who lived with me instead of at the hospital. And we’d put them in their little matching outfits and make them hug each other. And they liked it!

I’m so glad it’s March. I’m not even bothered by the huge piles of melty, dirty snow out there. I’m not, because it’s March! And spring is almost here! And I get to go grocery shopping tomorrow! And I get to use Bryan’s fancy pants Excel spreadsheet with a pivot table or something like that so my inputted (is that a word?) recipes spit out an accurate grocery list, unlike the inaccurate grocery lists I usually take to the store.

This new grocery list thing is a big deal because I plan my menu for the whole month and shop for the whole month in one shot, only going back to the store for a quick weekly trip for produce and other perishables. When the grocery list is long enough to include the fixin’s for a month’s worth of meals, some things get left out, which drives me insane. When multiple recipes share certain ingredients, I used to have to tally them up very carefully, which took forever. Tallying and I don’t get along. I get bored with it and then I make mistakes and double tally one thing while forgetting to tally another and it’s just a huge headache and makes me want to write, “pizza, Chinese, pizza, fish fry, pizza…” on the month’s menu.

Enter my husband, the Overlord of Organization, the Sultan of Symmetry, the Rajah of Regulation, the King of Configuration and all-around great guy, Bryan “The Spreadsheet Whisperer” Aldrich! (And the crowd goes wild!) I told him what drove me crazy about the stupid grocery list and he made the crazy go away, just like Thorazine. And then I asked him to marry me all over again. He’s thinking about it.

For lazy, loungy holidays and the people I get to share them with in real life, on the phone, and on the internet. I love my people.

I had a better quality picture, but I love that it’s almost noon and they’re in their jammies, lounging all over each other, playing pretend together. I should probably get in the shower. I know everybody at dinner will be thankful for that.

The maths are wrong, baby, cuz your hotness is rockin’!

Easter was lovely, except it needs to last much longer so my family can stay much longer and we can have, like, an 8-day feast instead of a weekend binge where we drink and eat too much and hurt ourselves. If we knew it would last longer, we could pace ourselves. I promise we would pace ourselves. My sister and I discovered that it doesn’t really matter what kind of wine a person drinks. If that person drinks too much of it, that person’s belly gets mad at them and punishes them. In other words, it’s not the quality, it’s the quantity. My sister-in-law is wise and she knew that already. She and my brother and brother-in-law, along with Bryan, were able to go to the Ohio Deli (as seen on Man vs Food!) and eat and eat on Saturday, while my sister and my mom and I stayed with the kids. Well, my mom stayed with the kids. Tracey and I just laid around and said, “Shhhh!” But now we know. Damn.

My Columbus friends were able to meet my family and that was lovely. I felt like I should be more nervous about it for some reason, but I wasn’t because Kristen, Dawn and Lynne are just Ohio versions of me, my sister and my sister-in-law. I don’t branch out much in my friendships. And the husbands? All of the husbands are beaten down by perfect matches for their loud and lovely wives, so we love all of them, too. Even my brother. I never found the bellybutton lint he hid here, but I have a feeling he hid it on my pillow. Just thinking about it gives me chills. Or, maybe he unscrewed the screen on the showerhead and put it in there so I shower in lint leavings every morning. Ew!

With that, I’ll leave you with another disturbing image. Everybody knows that My L1ttle Ponies love Easter. I just didn’t know how much they love it until I walked in the bathroom and found this little filly enjoying Maya’s Easter basket. In front of the mirror. Seriously, H@sbro, who designs your baskets*?

*I didn’t buy this basket. My mother-in-law bought it for Maya 2 or 3 years ago. I didn’t even notice what the little pony was doing until I saw her watching herself in the mirror with that look in her eye.

P.S. Don’t ask me what Maya’s basket was doing in the bathroom. Nobody wants to know.

He wanted me to wait to blog about it until Monday so he could make sure he is actually allowed into the building. But I’m the boss of announcing things in this marriage and I heard Oprah say that if you don’t say shit out loud, then it definitely will not happen. Consider this post my contribution to his job hunt. (BTW, the Secret works best when you got the stuff you want in the bag already.)

He went shopping last night for his new work wardrobe, and he has set a goal to finish watching the last 4 episodes of Friday Night Lights at his old “job” over the course of the next 3 nights, which shouldn’t be hard since he has watched 3 full-length movies during one single “work” night in the past. So he got his wardrobe and now he’s all business casual and 9 to 5 or 7 to 3 or 8 to 4 or whatever. He hasn’t worked hours like that the entire time we’ve been married. The most normal hours he’s ever worked were 10am to 7pm with Sunday and Tuesday off. WTF, right? I know! Other than that, it’s been 2nd or 3rd shift. Poopy. Starting Monday, he’ll wake up when I do and go to bed when I do. Obviously, this is all about my comfort and my needs. Just like everything else in our life, it’s all coming together quite nicely for me. Go Bryan!

Super Cute.

If I knew then what I know now, I never would have had a doubt. Those first days and weeks and months he was thrown into the thick of things and he picked up all of the essential skills with ease and grace. Those skills that we can measure are one thing, but seeing him develop all of those intangible good-father skills has been the most amazing thing. And he treats me pretty well, too. I’m sure treating the mom right is an essential component of fatherhood that will come in so handy for these girls when they’re older.

Happy father’s day, Bryan. You have truly mastered this gig. I couldn’t be prouder to call you my husband, and I couldn’t be happier for the girls who get to call you daddy.

We’re going to West Virginia unless our van costs a billion dollars to fix. Melissa, I know you’re worried about us getting accosted by some hilljack iff’n our van busts up on the way, but don’t worry. We’re taking precautions. First, we’re going to stop off at a gas station about an hour east of here where we’re sure to be able to find a Bush/Cheney ’04 bumper sticker as well as any number of these awesome bumper stickers. If we break down in the hills, we’ll slap those puppies on real quick-like. Also, we’ve been watching Squidbillies enough so we will be able to affect a native accent and attitude if need be. And the most important thing that will keep us safe? The fact that Bryan and I could pass for brother and sister. Nothing puts a god-fearing hillbilly at ease like incest.

Typing all that makes me wonder how my brother and sister-in-law have survived there. Tracy, do the people know you volunteer for Hillary’s campaign? Watch yourself.

Happy birthday to lots of people today. I know 5 people IRL who have a birthday today, so I assume that most of you who read this have a birthday today, too. Happy birthday!