Oh well hello there! I can’t believe I haven’t written since last year! [insert sting drumroll here] It is very hard for me to accept that we’re already in 2016. It’s crazy how time flies as an adult but when you’re a kid a year feels like an eternity.
This month is Carlos’ and my nine year anniversary of being together. Three of those we were long distance, five married and the past two as parents.
I’ve been in love with Carlos since I was 16. And when I fell in love I never thought I could love anyone more than I loved him in that time. But I was wrong. Here we are nine years later and I love him more than I did then. Every day I’ve fallen more in love with my husband than the last and know that will continue well into the future.
Today we went on a walk with PJ up our drive way and I had my fiftieth moment of realizing how blessed I am to have married such a loving and caring man. I know that I’m bragging about this man but just hear me out for a bit.
When we were younger, Carlos was a total jerk. He set limits on our relationship, he wouldn’t call when he said he would, blew me off with no explanation, and would never express himself in a way which satisfied me. My friends strongly disliked him and how he treated me. My parents hated him. It was awful. But I was young, in love, and convinced that I knew him better than anyone else.
When I moved away to college we decided to stay together and he started changing. He made it a point to be kind and thoughtful whenever we saw each other, and the days I couldn’t be in Miami we would talk constantly. Every day he reminded me that being together was a choice and as long as we chose to put an effort into our relationship we could make it work. But that didn’t stop us from “breaking up” a few times.
When we got married, I don’t think anyone in our families thought we would last six months, let alone 5 years (this May!). We had had a rocky relationship but we loved each other. We wanted to be together forever. And we agreed going into our marriage that divorce would never be an option. If we were doing this, there was no going back.
The first year of our marriage was one of the hardest years of my life. We were newlyweds living with my parents, I hadn’t found a job yet, he lost his job due to cutbacks, student loans were looming and I had ended the relationship with my best friend so I had no one to confide my fears in. I was so used to my independence that jumping into our marriage and under my parents thumb at the same time probably wasn’t the best decision. I spent most of that year in tears, praying for guidance, and maybe not so secretly breaking our agreement by looking up divorce lawyers.
But we worked through it. We found a balance to everything. And honestly the next few years of our marriage were great. We made a conscious effort to connect and love each other. So…we decided to have a baby.
It only took us four months to get pregnant. I think both of us expected it to take longer but we were thrilled. And nervous. And terrified. Here we were not only moving 4,000 miles away from all we had ever known, but now we would soon be responsible for a new life? We started bickering and becoming distant. I admit that while I was pregnant I HATED Carlos for the first four to five months. If I saw him just sitting down and watching TV I would throw things at him for no reason. Or let’s say he would wash the dishes before bed I would purposefully dirty tons of dishes and make him get up and wash them. Typing this makes me wonder why I want to get pregnant again, but I digress.
Once Paloma was born everything changed. As my husband fell in love with our daughter, I fell more in love with him than ever before. I’ll never forget how serious he took his responsibility to clean PJs umbilical stump. He set an alarm every few hours to clean it and would then change her diaper and cuddle her until she fell back asleep. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, my heart swelling from the joy of seeing those two together.
Nothing has changed in the past two years. He still dotes on her (and me) and spoils her (and me) rotten. He has never been afraid to change a diaper or ignored a sink full of dirty bottles. He is a vital part in our potty training journey. He takes his time teaching her things and takes notice of little things like when her laugh changes or always knowing where her Peppa Pig stuffed doll is. And because of his love and devotion to our daughter, I find myself more devoted and in love with him.
Somedays I can’t help but think back to where we started and know how blessed I am to be where we are. To know that our relationship is standing on solid ground and that this man chooses to love me even when I don’t deserve it. I know that our relationship works because every day we remind each other that our love and commitment is a choice we make daily. Some people find that making a declaration of commitment is enough on your wedding day but we keep it at the forefront of our marriage. It’s easy to forget your vows when you’re living the same day over and over again, falling into our societies repetitive nature of work, home, work, home, work, home day after day.
I renew my vows to him each day by doing little things that I know will make him smile. I let him pick what movies we watch or what we have for dinner. I leave little notes in his studio for him to find just saying “I love you.” I make him tea when he’s sick. I constantly remind him to reach out to his family, no matter my personal feelings. And he renews his by being an amazing father, partner, and son-in-law.
The past nine years have been a roller coaster and I can’t wait for the next hundred.