Seven Years

This is a picture from August 29, 2004:

This is a picture from August 27, 2011:

Sam and I, Nora Bear's parents, have been married for seven years today. What does seven years mean? Well, it doesn't mean it's time for a copper or brass plaque, a wool sweater, or a desk set. And, thankfully, nobody has a seven year itch. Mostly what it means, as SMS told me this weekend, is we've put in seven years of hard work, which he also informed is a biblical reference. And I would agree, it's been a lot of hard work, but also many rewards, several surprises and much happiness.

The biggest surprise for me: Sam the Father. The truth is, you don't know what kind of parent you're marrying. How could you? Or let me put it this way: I didn't. How could I? It is no secret that I was completely unprepared for parenthood, or at least it felt that way. And although I don't speak for Sam, from my vantage point he appeared to be in the same boat. But two years later I can honestly say I'm married to one of the best parents I have ever seen and certainly the best partner there could ever be for me. Sure, in the beginning, we struggled with the division of labor, but now, when I look at my husband I see a true partner and a true co-parent. My husband is a man who dresses my daughter better than I do and who can change a diaper in half the time. When I watch Nora attack Sam with a "good squeeze hug" and a "special kiss," or when I watch him chase, catch and tickle her, I see truly unadulterated love that I don't think I knew existed before we had a child. I know our marriage is more than parenting, but right now that takes up most of our time, energy and focus. I am so glad we are finding a way to do it cooperatively and I am so happy to be doing it with Sam.

Nora Bear and I are very, very luck. YEA ABBA!