this love is ours.

One of the things on my massive To-Do list as we prepare for the babies was to clean and organize the basement. It was quite the little project. In the process, we found lots of old pictures from our dating days, and got distracted. These are pictures I hadn't seen in several years, since our dating occurred before we had regular use of a digital camera and these pictures were taken on film (gasp!). I'm sure glad we found them.

A little reminiscing? On our first date, Chris asked me to go swing dancing at an "open swing dancing" night on campus. We went, and I got all ready for Chris to show me his swing dancing skills. The other people we were with went off and danced like crazy; we both stood there. He couldn't swing dance. I couldn't swing dance. I wondered why he asked me to go swing dancing if he couldn't even swing dance. I can't quite remember, but I think after a few short failed attempts, we went on a walk outside. Strike one.

Afterwards, the two of us headed to Coldstone. I considered that a big plus. Then he comes up with this idea to order for each other and not tell the other one what we're getting them. I was hesitant. I take my ice cream very seriously, especially at Coldstone. I finally coaxed what he was getting me out of him: some awful cherry-chocolate concoction that shouldn't even be allowed on the menu. Luckily, I was able to inform him of my strict no fruit mixed with chocolate policy, and the occasion was saved. Strike two.

Later we met back up with the people we were with earlier and watched a movie at a park. During the movie, our fingers found each other and I think we linked pinkies. Because even though he took me swing dancing when he couldn't swing dance, and even though he almost got me the grossest thing Coldstone has to offer, he was sweet. He had a genuine and positive sense of humor; he made me laugh a lot. And heaven help me, he was so dang cute. After the movie they were moving on to something else (what kind of marathon date was this?), but I requested to go home because I was tired and needed to read my scriptures. Home run for me.

Over 6 years later, as we sat looking back at pictures in our home in Michigan, we couldn't help but notice how young we looked. When did I get lines around my eyes? I look so tired now and I'm carrying 30 extra pound around my midsection (ha!). It is funny how just 6 years of school and moving and working and pregnancy and kid(s) can take a toll on your physical appearance.

And its funny how much those 6 years can teach you. How they teach you to hurt, to worry, to stress, to plan, and then have all your plans go out the window, to adjust, to pray, to laugh, to love. To love more than you loved at the beginning, even though you thought that was impossible.

If we had never moved across the country, how would I ever know how much I depended on him?

If I had never had one hard and one extremely difficult pregnancy, how would I know how selfless he is?

If we had never had our precious daughter, how would I know what a wonderful daddy he is?

If we had never disagreed, how would I know how quick he is to understand me?

And if didn't make so many mistakes, how would I know how easily he forgives me?

I was a little envious of the people in those pictures. My biggest worries were the Book of Mormon quizzes I kept getting C's on (what the?) and how I was ever going to adjust to my brand new Celiac Disease diagnosis. I couldn't help but think how much simpler life was back then. But then it occurred to me: in ten years when we have 4 kids with schedules and practices and lessons, when Chris is deep in his career, when we have mortgage payments and car payments and the kids are begging for a dog and I won't give in . . . I'll probably look back at this time when Carly was potty-training and we had impending twins and Chris was still in school and we lived on very little other than love, and think how it was so much simpler back then.

Because I love where we are now. There's a song called Remember When by Alan Jackson and one verse says "remember when the sound of little feet was the music we danced to week-to-week?" I can't listen to those words without crying. I didn't even type them without crying. I love the little feet that bounce on the couch and declare "I'm a jumping bean!" I love the little feet that kick my ribs, and the other two little feet that kick my bladder. And I love that Chris and I are dancing to these sweet sounds together. Because all too quickly those feet will be off to college and out tracking in some random place across the world. And we'll still be together, and we "wont' be sad, we'll be glad, for all the life we had. And we'll remember when."

The point is, I love Chris a lot.

I'm notoriously horrible about showing him and telling him.

I'm not an overly expressive person.

Its something I've been working on for all 6 years of our lives together.

But I love him.

And I'm eternally grateful for him.

Not just today, on Valentine's Day.

But every day.