Eight years have gone by since we said "I do." We won't talk about the word "trust" and how that was more stuttered than stated.
It's hard to believe that this was us eight years ago:
Look how tall he is! And how short I am? (I'm standing a full two steps higher than him, in heels.) Look how skinny I was! And he has HAIR!
Why no dress? Where's the tux? One of the great things about military life is that in order to get a place to live, we had to get married. A full two weeks before our wedding. We weren't given the option of being a runaway bride or a missing groom. It made for a great wedding day with no pressure at all. What's that? The pastor tried to burn the church down during the ceremony? Eh, we're already married. What's that? It's 106 and ninety percent humidity? The reception is outside? Eh, we're already married.
We had a blast at our wedding. It was easily one of the best days of my life at the time. I say at the time because so many days after that have become the best day of my life. Two kids, several moves, a few more pounds, a little less hair, and I can't wait to see what else life has in store for us!
