eight is great

While we were in Florida, we celebrated our eight year anniversary. Our anniversary was the night before Isaac's presentation, and we were sans babysitter, so we didn't get much of a romantic celebration. We went out for a family dinner to a good and empty Thai joint. I am bummed that I didn't make matching t-shirts for this year's Anniversary Family Palooza, since nothing makes me happier than wearing matching t-shirts. Really.

We have yet to go on a date, just the two of us, to celebrate our Anniversary. Laaaaame. Isaac has been working crazy hours to make up for all our partying, and with Hazel's bout of the stomach flu, we just haven't had time. I made Isaac promise me that we will celebrate our #8 before our #9. Mark my words, number nine will involve t-shirts.

I love my husband. I am really, truly, madly in love with him. We are high school sweethearts, best friends, and have been through a heck of a lot together. I don't think we've spent more than 15 days apart in the past eight years, and that even seems like too many. I hate that Isaac has to work- if I had it my way, we'd be together 24 hours a day. He makes me a better person, he is the relaxing agent to my uptightedness, he is the spender to my saver, he is the faith to my worry, the tan to my sunburn.

Happy 8th, babe. A million Brazilians, forever.