10

I had this scheduled to post at 11 (the time we got married, though I guess to be technical it should be 11 am pacific time) before Dave did his, but then he swooped in and beat me to the punch. Guess I'll forgive him.

Shortly after Dave and I got married, I was working with another girl who had been married for a whole year. Maybe it was two. In any case, it was a long time. She was talking about what she wanted to do for her fifth and tenth anniversaries, and I was just thinking, "Ten years?!?! That's so far away! We'll be so different then!"

In truth, the last ten years have flown by. I don't feel older, I don't feel more mature, and I sometimes wonder where these kids came from and why one of them keeps calling me "mudder." I feel like not much has changed in our relationship in the last 10 years. He still makes me laugh, we still stay up way too late talking (I'm hilarious after midnight--at least to me I am...), and we still have enough common interests to feel like there's just never enough time. Yet things have changed. Things haven't gone the way we planned, but as cliche as it sounds, every challenge, disappointment, and struggle has brought us closer and made us stronger. He is my rock, and I am his. He is my best friend and an amazing father to Mabes and Annabelle.

If the last ten years have taught us anything, it's to not take anything too seriously. And to be able to laugh at ourselves. Thanks, Dave, for making me laugh. For turning a blind eye at my Diet Coke and Junior Mints/M&Ms/chocolate chip cookie/popcorn habit. For hugging me and bringing kleenex when I need it. For pushing me to be better. For listening even when I've apparently told you all my stories from childhood. For being my strength when I've got nothing left. For our two beautiful girls. Thanks for the last decade. Here's to the next...

To the moon!

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like



On Jupiter and Mars



In other words, hold my hand



In other words, baby, kiss me.




Fill my heart with song



And let me sing forever more



You are all I long for



All I worship and adore



In other words, please be true



In other words, I love you.

Celebrating 10 wonderful years of Team Whitley...



-dave

9

In thinking about what I could write to commemorate our anniversary, I reread my post from last year. Yep, pretty much said everything I'm thinking. The last 9 years--well, they haven't felt like 9 years. I still feel 21. I still feel like we're pretending at this whole "married grown-ups" thing. And I still feel incredibly lucky that I get to wake up every morning next to my best friend. Happy anniversary, Dave.

8

Today is our 8th anniversary. I feel like I should write Dave a love letter proclaiming my feelings for the world (or the 5 people that read this blog) to see. But I'm not that kind of person--anything beyond smacking a sister's butt mid-hug is the extent of my public displays of affection.

I will say that the last 8 years haven't been what I expected. It's been a lot harder, and I certainly wasn't expecting it to be easy. We've dealt with things I never could have imagined, both happy and sad. But I also don't think I expected marriage to be this fun. Silly, since my parents seem to have quite a bit of fun together. Dave is truly my best friend, and there are times I'm quite convinced that no one else laughs as much as we do.

He puts up with me--believe me, I'm not an easy person to live with. Just ask my sisters or former roommates. He would argue that my random quirks are worth it for the chocolate chip cookies, popcorn, and tri-tip, but I still think I got the better end of the deal.

He's an amazing dad and Mabes couldn't love him more. He's incredibly hard working and always putting others first, evidenced by the fact that he worked all day (through the anniversary dinner I prepared--I'm not bitter, I understand, and he feels bad so this isn't a guilt trip, just an illustration of my point) then ran next door and spent 2 hours helping a new family in our ward move in, and then he'll go back to work for a while.

Reminiscent shout-outs to Wendy and Jeni, thank you for dragging me to his and Brett's apartment nearly 10 years ago, to Emily and Cami for helping to hatch the very 7th grade "scheme" (with a script!) that was ultimately responsible for us getting together, and Andrea and Catherine, two of my best friends growing up, for taking a break from studying for finals and flying across the country (respectively) to wait outside the temple when we got married and experience all the other joys and craziness of an LDS wedding. You'll never know how much that means to me.

And of course my parents and Grandpa Ostler, for all their advice. There's nothing I can write that could capture their brilliance and wisdom, but I truly appreciate all they've done. My family is awesome. I just feel the need to brag about them occasionally. As I was cooking dinner, I was wondering if it was weird that I feel the need to eat red meat on special occasions. Because that's the way Ostlers roll.