We're not perfect. Not even close. We're both stubborn and impatient. We're both first borns, and like doing things our way and done when we want them done. We are both obsessive and anxious, we've gone to bed angry, yelled, and we've both said things we didn't mean. We've had really good days and days I'd rather forget.
But we love our family more than anything in the world. We support each other and each other's decisions, whether or not they are the ones we would've made on our own. He's my trivia partner, my drinking buddy, my sous chef, my best friend. He still makes me laugh, and I still make him his favorite dinners. Our children are our world, and there is nothing that makes me realize that I picked the right man 8 years ago today, than when I see our babies run to their Daddy when he gets home from work, and how much they love him, and him them. We are a team. A unit. Through thick and thin, good and bad, he is the one I know I can depend on, and the one who will help make me strong. He is the rock, the constant, the anchor.
I love him more today that I ever have, but, like song goes, not as much as tomorrow. Happy 8th Anniversary, honey. I love you so much, and look forward to the rest of our lives filled with the good and the bad, as long as we're doing it all together.