My Lovely Man

Prepare yourself for some gooey stuff here.  (I promise not to make this a habit.)  Ryan and I celebrated our 8th anniversary yesterday.  We went out to dinner last night and after a strict rejoinder that we would not talk about work (which of course was broken by the time desert came), I thought I would offer a quiz to get the conversation started: what are your three favorite memories from our eight married years together?  Ryan's were sweet and not necessarily predictable: scenes from our honeymoon, the surprise party I threw for him for his 30th birthday, our trip to California.  He said when you add in the kids, hands down our annual pilgrimage to apple pick is among his favorite collection of memories.  I, of course, countered with mine- celebrating our first anniversary in our new house, California, and telling him I was pregnant with Isabel.  

But here are a few more that I didn't share with him:

--Watching him swaddle Isabel in the hospital, a job he took very seriously

--Listening to him tickle the girls.  Somehow he can make them shriek with laughter so much better than I can

--Watching him hoist Lottie up to the upper levels of our mammoth Christmas tree this past Sunday so she could put her ornament on

--His omelets and pancakes, which are way better than mine

--How any and all car rides are much more preferable when he's along, even if he passes out faster than the girls

--His willingness to try and teach me to play golf, ski, throw a baseball properly

--And the way he sniffs new tennis balls before serving.