Sometimes You Just Need to Find Cokes and Roses on the Stairs.

 It was one of those super desirable moments when you're holding a tired, cranky baby who you can't lay down yet because she needs her pants changed, but you're on the phone with the doctor's office trying to figure out which immunizations six different little humans have received (they were mega impressed with my record keeping skills... right...) so you can schedule the proper appointments before the new school year begins, and then you discover your seven year old happily filling up the bath for his two younger siblings (which is soooo against the rules) because of an earlier comment you made where you declared they looked like orphan children and something must be done about it. You test the temperature of the water and realize it's freezing cold, your eyes scolding your 3rd male offspring as you adjust the hot/cold levers. Your involvement sends him into a "kill your ear drums" rant and as you leave the room your 5 year old secretly shuts off the water because he feels like the tub is full enough and the temperature is fine. He proceeds to climb in and the toddler curses begin flowing from his mouth as his buns threaten to freeze off. You're not 100% sure what you've been saying to the nurse for the last five minutes as you turn to adjust the levers on the bath once again. The baby keeps reminding you she's unhappy and the two year old freaks when she has to wait for you to change her poopy diaper before she can hop in the bath with her brother. Tears are flowing everywhere and you're sure the nurse is super impressed with the goings-on in your home.And don't forget the eight year old. That sweet boy who must be involved in e.v.e.r.y. conversation and keeps asking you who you're talking to, why you're talking to them, and any follow up questions he feels may be necessary despite your constant shushing.

The bath water is finally comfortable.

The girl's diapers are changed.

The phone call has ended.

Your husband walks up the stairs, just returning home from work, and the words start flowing from your mouth about how utterly fantastic the last twenty minutes of your life has been. What the world just happened? You feel bad though. You feel you should buck up. That it's your anniversary and he doesn't need to hear how you need a moment to regroup and maybe drive away in the car to drink a pop, alone, with the sweet companion of quiet. He asks, "what do you need me to do?" You give him the short list, turn to walk  down the stairs, and find this -

Cokes and roses on every step,

leading to a beautiful bouquet on the kitchen island. 

And you want to cry, but you're not a crier.

And you're so happy he chose you.

And that you chose him.

Because this guy -

gets you.

Loves you.

Likes you.

Makes you crazy.

Puts up with your crazy.

And his late mixed with your late, makes you late to church every Sunday which somehow makes you feel like you're perfect for each other.

He's your best friend.

Love your guts dear!

Happy 11th Anniversary.

Thanks for holding my hand last night when we went on our walk that was really supposed to be a run. You're my favorite.

On our anniversary dinner date we took pictures of each other taking pictures of each other. Weird. 

P.S. Here are a couple of our birthday photos. For the Beloved's birthday we talked him into going to Roaring Springs in 75 degree weather, he wasn't the happiest. Sorry dog. And for my birthday we went to my favorite Mexican restaurant Casa Mexico  and I did homework, which sounds lame, but was pretty low key and perfect.

See, he's super happy to be here. :)

Don't miss  Lou's little head hiding in the background.
I love my family and I'm pretty sure Ruckus loves us even though he looks pretty miserable and that Little C isn't trying to do the "smolder" in my b-day picture.