Happy Anniversary :)

So today was the 11th anniversary of our Kentucky wedding, which means in November we will be married 12 years. Ten years ago this weekend, we were moving into this house on Mimosa, and we had just found out that the child I was carrying was a boy. I already felt deep down that the baby I was expecting was a boy; and I had been struck at a particular moment in time (walking Maggie at sunset; at the apartment complex; sprinklers came on; weird prisms coming through the sunshine and the water; with Dave...) with the notion that not only was I having a boy but that I would name him Jonathan. I didn't share this with Dave at that moment, although Jonathan was one of the several names we were floating around for a first name for a boy. We always had our middle name down. Jonathan was often vetoed because Dave did not like John because of its reference to the toilet; and he was concerned that people would call Jonathan Jon and he didn't like this. SO... I was student teaching; 5 sections of 7th graders a day at a wonderful school. I was genuinely sad when my internship was up; and ten years later, I still have all of the notes and thank you cards and baby shower cards the students wrote me in a file. I was terrified my first day of student teaching, and every time I got up in front of the class I questioned WHY ON EARTH someone like me, who had been quiet and shy and deathly afraid of being up in front of crowds her entire life would CHOOSE a career path that required being up in front of a most judgmental group of teens every day. They were well prepared to be bored and to shut down, tune out and disrespect me as a source of anything valuable... But as soon as I found out I was expecting my son, I marched in there with a different attitude. I wasn't going to have my adrenaline racing all over the place. I had MORE IMPORTANT things to care about. I was going to be a mother. This was simply a three month stepping stone. Having a baby was forever and everything I did revolved around him. I would not be provoked or freak out; I would stay calm. And I felt some strange newfound sense of authority that years of being able to be married and drink and smoke and vote and drive and whatever else our society might deem as being "adult"--I was going to be a parent. And therefore, these kids could not scare me. And if I failed at student teaching, which I was not going to do, I realized that I had a scary sense of perspective; an overwhelming sense of responsibility towards this child that was still really only a chance; a possibility. But I felt certain he was a boy; and even though I went through months of the name game with Dave, even entering the hospital with the assumption he would be called Alexander, I just knew in my gut that his name was Jonathan. And I mean, I was right. Ask anyone. My son's name is Jonathan. ;) I do not know where I am leading with all this except that I am remembering ten years ago, Memorial Day Weekend, and I had just graduated from college, I was expecting our firstborn, I had just found out it was to be a boy, and we were moving, Dave, me, Maggie (our now deceased dog) and the two cats (still, miraculously on some accounts, alive) into our first house. We had NO CLUE what we were getting into. But I am happy to say, that while Jon may have just made it all look easy, parenting was not all that difficult. Home ownership? Well, THAT has been educational. I guess the thing is, with parenting, no matter what sort of children you are gifted with, even if they are challenging as all get out, you are immensely rewarded. Such as with our second child. Anna. Our beautiful, smart, fiercely independent and outrageously funny Anna. She would demand to be fed every 20 minutes around the clock and you would feel like you had spent your day wrestling an insanely strong 15 pound baby and you just  wanted to throw yourself on the ground and cry, but then she would turn her blue eyes on you and flash this crinkly nose, toothy grinned smile at you and you would just think, I am SO LUCKY!

I think back to Memorial Day weekend, 2002. A year before we moved into the house. The weekend of our Kentucky wedding. Dave and I had already been married since November of 2001, so when I walked down the aisle with my Dad, it was kind of a sure thing. I had already been married and had been Mrs. David for six months. One of the things I remember about walking down the aisle was that it was nothing like I had imagined it. For one thing, my Dad was at my arm, and I was walking towards my brothers. I remember watching both of their faces. Honestly, I had NEVER thought my Dad would be there, in a rented tux, walking me down the aisle. I always assumed that probably I would have both of my brothers give me away, since they had filled the role of Dad in many ways, and at many times I was not sure what role my Dad would have in my life. And like, if I had a wedding, and I asked, would he show up? Well, he did. And I am glad I did it that way. Because he only has one daughter, and that was his one chance to do that, ever. And I only have one father, and he was alive and willing. So I am grateful for that memory. It was a little healing for me to have him there, standing up tall and having things be proper and normal. If I had had him at the wedding just as a guest, I would have just felt awkward and awful the whole time. I am also grateful that my now in heaven stepdad Ed is in my wedding pictures and was at the wedding with my Mom. See, you never know how anything will turn out. But Ed turned out to be a very important person in my life, and someone that I will forever be grateful for having had the privilege to have loved. And I am so beyond grateful that he was Poppa Ed to Jon and Anna. They remember a surprising amount about him; but I guess I should not say that, since he is someone that is impossible to forget. At the time, I was so upset that a certain wedding guest could not make it to the wedding due to a family crisis. I was just crying so much over this. Now, I am grateful. Because while I loved this person, they floated in and out of my life so easily that they didn't belong in those photos. My stepdad Ed did. My Dad did. Sometimes there are things in life that seem so sad at the time but looking back a tiny bit you realize, oh. THAT's why.

So, at the time we got married in Kentucky, I was very concerned with starting a family. We had some cause for concern and that's why we didn't have me work for a few years, then start a family around an appropriate age, such as 27 or whenever people are supposed to. I was SO worried things wouldn't work out. There has been a lot to worry about over the past eleven years! But here we are, with two amazing kids, one going into 4th, one going into 2nd, and we are getting ready to move next weekend. So much of what I have worried about has never been an issue; however, there have been many other things that I wasn't on guard for that have been pretty rough. But we are still here. And I think that is a very hopeful thought. I am fretting so much over my search for a teaching position... Maybe I will think back to this particular weekend in a few years and think, Oh, Jamie! If you had only known! You should have been worried about this instead; or look! how fantastic everything is... all I know, is that change will keep coming. The kids will go from this age and stage to teens and whoa before I know it we will be celebrating our twentieth and our tenth year in the house we are moving into next week. Or maybe not. Maybe we will be in a different house. Who knows!