Stop 6: Smoky Mountains, NC

If Outer Banks was all decadence and bliss, then the mountains were all ass-kicking and adventure. Base camp was a KOA campground in Cherokee, North Carolina, but we pretty much covered everything from Gatlinburg, Tennessee to Asheville, North Carolina. The mountains portion of this trip was awesome and exhausting. We had 6:00 am wake up calls almost every day, and pushed our Florida flatlanders' asses to the brink pretty much constantly. 

Adventure #1: Get over my fear of white water rafting.

I had only been white water rafting once, and if I had the picture with me now, I would post it here so you could see the proof of my terror: I literally threw myself into the bottom middle of the boat in the fetal position in such a way that you can not see me in the picture. At all. So, needless to say, when the boys all said they wanted to do this, I was not looking forward to it. I'm not sure if it's the fact that the kids were with us this time, but somehow I managed to put on my Big Girl Pants and get on that raft. Because Hubby was certified in white water rescue back in the days, and because he actually knows what he's doing about 99.9% of the time, we opted for the self-guided ride. The deal was this: Whatever he said to do on that raft, the three of us were going to do it. This was one of the very rare times in the history of this family when there was no arguing about who among us is the Alpha.

Most of the river was class II, some III mixed in, and one class IV drop at the end. We managed to get through that last one without anyone falling out of the boat (or dropping to the floor in the fetal position and missing the photo op entirely), but boy, were we ever not graceful...

We watched other boats do that rapid later on, and every one either went straight through the line expected, around it, or even zig zag...a few people did fall out...but everyone pretty much was facing forward somewhat. Not us. Nope. Forward was too easy. We went up and over the main rock and ledge...backwards. Let's just say our Alpha Guide was shouting out some expletives amidst his orders of "Paddle hard right! Paddle hard right!"

I think we were all so relieved when we realized we had made it without losing anyone, that the look on our faces was pretty priceless in some of the shots.

Amazingly, this little adventure completely eradicated my fear of white water. I actually, for a moment, debated doing it again. And talk about family bonding...

Adventure #2: Hike the 6 mile trail of  Looking Glass Rock in Pisgah National Forest.

We hiked 3 miles up to an elevation of 3,970 feet, to a stunning overlook (with a scary-looking drop) that made the work worth it for a 9-year-old, a sometimes-surly preteen, a middle-aged woman with a somewhat-still-busted-post-op-knee, and an ever-optimistic and uber-athletic Hubby who got stuck carrying about 30 pounds worth of all our water, lunch, bug spray, and just maybe, some baby wipes I snuck in there. I'd like to say that the 3 miles down were a piece of cake, but we were passed by quite a few people, during which I wanted to yell "We are from the very flat, flat state of Florida!"

View at the top after the first 3 miles

After that, we drove a few miles to Sliding Rock, a place we  had seen on videos online, but, as South Floridians, had a hard time wrapping our heads around. Hubby and I were actually not too excited about this one, but the boys really wanted to do it, and since they managed to complete the hike without ever complaining once or admitting they wanted no part of it, we figured we owed them one. 

Boy, am I glad. It turned out to be one of the funnest things I have ever done.

Adventure #3: Slide down a 60-foot waterfall

Sliding Rock is a natural boulder that has been smoothed out over time enough that people can slide down the 60 foot waterfall relatively unscathed and plunge into an 8 foot deep "pool" of 50 degree water. Words to describe: freezing, thrilling, silly, butt-scratching, bumpy, fun. I sincerely thought, before I got there, that maybe I would do it once, just to say I did it, but I felt like a little kid wanting to go back "again and again" and "one more time." It wasn't until I bruised the right butt cheek on a wayward rock ledge and scratched the left on that one-damn-rough-spot-that-pretty-much-no-one-else-managed-to-slide-over-except-me that I finally called it quits. The best part was that you were allowed to slide in groups, pairs, train formations....so the four of us had a blast. I literally could not stop giggling the entire time we were there.

Daddy and the boys after their "train" came apart

Me and the boys...we started out together holding hands but inevitably would always come apart

Hubby and me...of course, I'm holding my nose while he is all arms in the air woo-hooing

After Sliding Rock, we drove into downtown Asheville for a pizza dinner and the best ice cream sandwiches we've ever had. That was one of those days...from morning to night...when you just go to bed with a smile on your face, feeling grateful and exhausted all over.

Adventure #4: Aerial Park (or, When the hell did I develop a fear of heights?!?)

We drove into Tennessee for an Aerial Park Adventure. We had done this before in New Hampshire on a much larger and higher scale, so I wasn't worried. Little did I know that, apparently, while I wasn't looking, my mind decided to develop an unnatural fear of heights. We listened to the safety spiel, harnessed up, clipped in, and climbed the tower. I wasn't nervous. I wasn't worried. I, in fact, was the one who insisted on doing this particular activity. Then I stepped onto the first "challenge" as they call it: a log suspended about 20 feet in the air. Complete and utter panic. Tears welled. Heart drummed. And I thought for a second that I couldn't do it. I would simply go back the one whopping step and go back to the ground. I think the only thing that stopped me from doing just that was the disbelief: I have never been afraid of heights! What the hell is wrong with me?!? So I pushed through...did a few while literally holding back tears...had to go back to the ground to center myself a bit (I insisted I just wanted to take pictures of the boys to everyone but Hubby). Then I made myself go back out there. The boys didn't even find out I was freaking out the whole time until almost the end. In fact, once Ben found out, he was so kind and protective, it made the whole experience worth it. At one point, I was making it to the end of a particularly challenging obstacle, and he was standing on the platform waiting. I started to fall (which really means I would have fallen about 2 feet before my harness caught me), and he grabbed my rope and kept saying (in the same exact tone we would have used with him or his brother) "It's okay. You're okay. I've got you." 

We spent three hours on the course, which ranged from a minimum height of 14 feet and soared to over 50 feet up at its highest. The boys did a couple of the highest, while I completed most of the ziplines and  challenges on the first level, all the while literally hugging the trees as I arrived on each platform. I think I did more of my meditative breathing at this place than I have in all my yoga and meditation sessions combined! (That breathing shit really works. FYI.)

Would love to say this was a silly, posed shot, but nope...that is literally how I would stand on the platforms while waiting for my turn.

Aidan Kai on one of the lower challenges while Ben and Daddy wait on the side platforms

One of the easiest challenges that didn't scare me so much so I managed a smile

 Adventure #5: Tubing (Lazy river, my ass!)

Don't let this serene pic fool you....

Perhaps we should have known we were in for a little more than some lazy tubing when the teenage girl returning her tube declared it as "eventful" and the lady at the desk chuckled as she declared that "the river is really high and fast today, so you're gonna have some class IIs in there..."

Give us an ocean filled with sharks, jellyfish, waves, and rip currents and we are good to go. Put us in a river on some giant floaties and watch us nearly drown.

Most of the river was either calm, like the picture above, or fun little rapids, but there were a few spots where overhanging trees along the edges and rocks made for a couple of close calls. Incident #1 happened when the rope we had used to tie our tubes together got caught up on a tree limb right over a super strong current, trapping Aidan Kai right over the rushing water and nearly flipping Ben, who I saw panic for one of the first times. Hubby managed to get everyone unstuck and onto dry land, but it left the boys (and me) a bit shaken. Incident #2 happened after we decided that the rope was a bad idea, and Aidan Kai fell out of his tube. Watching your kid floating down a river with no life vest as he desperately tries to swim to the shoreline where his brother is reaching out to grab him is no joke.

Incidents aside, we did have a ton of fun on our first tubing adventure. We felt kinda silly that we had found it so rough, but felt a bit validated when, back at the campground, one of the local "mountain people" told us he wouldn't let his grandkids do it because the river was a little too high and dangerous.

More reason to love the ocean...

After Incident #1

Adventure #6: Hike 4.6 mile Alum Caves Trail Hike

We decided to do one more hike after reading about the Alum Caves Trail Hike, in Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee. The trail is 4.6 miles and has an elevation of 4,955 feet. This hike had more to see the whole way, as opposed to just the one breathtaking view at the top. As we hiked, the kids stopped to explore little pools in the streams and build rock cairns. There were pseudo-bridges made of logs with "railings" on only one side, rock stairs with cable handrails along Arch Rock, panoramic mountain views, and Alum Cave Bluff, a massive concave overhang that towers 80 feet high. 

Entering Arch Rock (you can see the "cave" and the rock stairs to the right of the bridge)

Arriving at the Bluff

Prior to this one, I had never really enjoyed my mountain trips very much. We had either always had bad weather or other glitches that made me wonder why so many people loved traveling north for these kinds of vacations. And I'll be honest: green mountains just do not impress me. (Put 'em up against a backdrop of clear turquoise waters, however, and I'm sold.) But this trip was just pure fun, and I found myself wearing a shit-grin most of the time. It was just the four of us. Just playing. I can finally say I loved a trip to the mountains and want to go back. BUT...I still spent a lot of time at the campground drinking Coronas, missing the beaches, and listening to Kenny Chesney's Pirate Flag song, completely understanding why he sings:  "I come from a little bitty, homegrown small town, Smoky Mountains, nice place to hang around...but I jumped on a greyhound bus one night and took it all the way to the end of the line..." I guess you can take the girl out of the beaches, but you can't take the beaches out of the girl...even when she has an awesome time playing in the mountains. 

Next stop: Nashville, Tennessee

Stop 5: Hatteras Island, Outer Banks, NC

The dock on the sound side at sunset: no filter, no photo effects needed.

There are places, when you travel, that fill up your soul. They make you feel at home, like you belong. You might even catch yourself wondering: Is it possible that, somehow, some little part of me used to be here...knew this place before...in some illogical timeline of my life?

I have been lucky enough to feel that way in two of the places I have ever visited: Hawaii and here: Hatteras Island, Outer Banks, North Carolina, our 5th stop during our road trip. 

Our OBX home for the week right off the dunes

View of the campground from the beach boardwalk Third one from the boardwalk is us.

The last time we were there, Ben, who was 9 at the time, told me "Mommy, I've never felt this way. I've never been this happy." I taught him the word for what I thought he was feeling: bliss.  I thought that maybe I had loved it there so much, too, because it was new: such a cool campground with the ocean and the dunes and the sound side. I thought that maybe the first couple of times we had been there made such an impression because I had simply never been anywhere like that before in the RV. I was curious, this time around, almost bracing myself for disappointment. Surely, after all the places we've been since...after all the beach vacations we've taken...this place can't possibly impact me in the same way this time around.

But it did.

I found myself looking around a lot...at the beach houses on stilts, the ocean, the sand fences, the dozens of campers and RVs and tents piled in together on that campground...and saying aloud: "I just love it here." 

I spent most of the week trying to figure out what it is about this area that makes me feel so content. Yes, obviously, there is the ocean, but I live in a beach town and have been on a million different beach vacations. And I've been to other places that have more adventurous things to do and breathtaking scenery. I've come to realize that what I truly love about Hatteras (much like Hawaii) is the vibe. There's a vibe I feel in that little town...from the locals, in the shops, along the water's edge. It's the being able to wear flip flops and a bikini from sun up to sundown. It's how so many of the boys have long, floppy hair like my own kids, and so many of the parents have tattoos and crow's feet around their eyes from a combination of sun and wind and smiling. It's the driving down the road a few blocks to the local hot dog/acai bowl stand (yes, you read that right) and having to pay cash and eating your treats on worn picnic tables while listening to a bunch of locals talking who sound absolutely exactly like Crush from Nemo. It's the feeling of being literally surrounded by water: on one side, the ocean...cross the two-lane road and you are on the sound side. You could smell salt water and feel the sun no matter where you stood. 

Ocean side...my coffee spot every morning

Sound side...across the street from the campground

Surrounded by water at all times

We arrived by ferry, as we always do, even though it takes a little longer than driving in from the north. (We take the 2 hour ferry from Cedar Island--see last post--to Ocracoke, where we stop along the road to see miles of nearly secluded beaches and dunes. Then we get on another ferry for about an hour that takes us to Hatteras.) The ferry rides almost feel like the on/off switch from The Real World to the escapism of the Outer Banks.

Ocracoke Ferry

Our RV is right behind the Coke truck

Honu parked along the side of the road on Ocracoke while we explore the dunes & beaches

We spent the week in absolute decadence (by our standards, anyway). I would wake up early and either walk the beach or watch the boys surf. After breakfast (in our bathing suits by the dunes), we would start the endless sunblock-application process. The boys would run off to participate in one of the many campground activities (tye dye shirts, water balloon baseball, pirate parade...) or meet up with one of the many new campground friends. We would sit by the pool, play in the waves, cruise around on our bikes, or play on the giant bounce pillow (okay, they would jump, I would watch and/or take pictures). A couple of the days were spent watching Hubby take kite boarding lessons. It's amazing how much I enjoyed sitting in the sun, quietly watching him for hours out on the sound side. The boys would alternate between throwing their casting nets off the dock and cheering (or cringing) for Daddy. There was fresh seafood, lots of booze, bonfires, and late night crabbing on the beach.

Bliss. 

OBX houses

Watching the boys surf (that's Aidan Kai on Daddy's board!)

One of Hubby's successful moments during his kiteboarding lessons...not as easy as it looks

My vantage point during his lessons

Hours and hours on the campground bounce pillow

Hot dogs and acai bowls down the road

Sunset and kiteboard watching after dinner on the sound

Kiteboards and sunset

Crab hunting

Bonfires on the beach

Next stop: Smoky Mountains..!

Stops 1 through 4: Melbourne, Fl; St. Augustine, Fl.; South of the Border, SC; & Cedar Island, NC

Our first few stops during our month-long road trip were short but sweet. I sorta felt like they were little appetizers. Hubby and I always find that when we travel, it takes us a couple of days to settle in a bit. This is especially the case when we travel long distances in the RV...we hate to admit it, but even my husband, the optimist, frets that something will go wrong/break down/derail our plans. (We did have some little glitches, but more on that later.) So the first few stops were actually really good, not only because we enjoyed them and they made the trip to our first major stop much easier, but because they helped us work out some kinks--both actual and imagined.

Stop 1 was Melbourne, Florida, 3 hours north of home, and a very familiar place for us: Tantala's house (Tantala is yiddish for aunt, and it's what the boys call our dearest friend, Beth). We couldn't drive by without stopping to spend some time with her. We were rookies in teaching and in life when she transferred to our school. Everyone instantly fell in love with her, but the three of us formed a very special friendship and we can not imagine our lives without her. The boys have grown up alongside her grandchildren and while they play and act goofy and refer to themselves as "sorta like cousins," the three of us sit in her living room and talk for hours.

Stop 2 was St. Augustine, Florida, where we have visited a couple of times before, but Aidan Kai was too little to remember it, and Ben wanted to go back after learning about it in school. We walked around the town, shopped, and visited the Castillo de San Marcos.

Gunpowder room in the fort

Our campground was on the beach, and after a full day of exploring, we went for a late afternoon walk on the beach. The boardwalk seemed to stretch on forever, and as we were walking, I managed to capture this moment:

Stop 3 was the bizarre South of the Border, SC.  We needed a place to stop and rest during the 16 hour drive it would take to get us from St. Augustine to Cedar Island, NC, so we decided to stop at this iconic spot. For over 50 years it's been there, in the middle of nowhere, between North and South Carolina. It was labeled on Yelp and Tripadvisor as an "amusement park." Yeah. Uh. No. I had never been, and although I had heard about it, read about it, and saw pictures online, nothing could prepare me for the cheesiness and weirdness of the place. It consisted of random, giant statues of chickens, hippos, whales, and donkeys (just to name a few) strewn across a giant compound with an indoor pool (I called it the cesspool, but the official name was--I kid you not--The Pleasure Dome), a motel that looked straight out of a 1980's horror film, gift shops that contained just about anything you could imagine, and sad looking employees sweeping the parking lots. 

Surely, the Griswalds would have loved this place.

Anyone who travels regularly in an RV knows that things are bound to go wrong. One just hopes they are minor issues, not the kind that leave you stranded on the side of the road for 14 hours.  The generator was acting up, and because there is ABSOLUTELY NO WAY POSSIBLE the 4 of us could survive in the summer inside this much beloved tin can for several hours at a time, we wanted to err on the side of caution, and made a stop at Camping World to get it checked out. (They couldn't find anything wrong with it, but a mobile mechanic came out later when we were in OBX and took care of it, so thankfully, we are traveling with full AC and video games for those 8-hour-drives.)

Generator check-up

Along the way, I took over the driving for a couple of hours, mostly to get over my new fear of doing so. Although never a fan of driving a 32-foot-long mobile home, I was never really scared of it. After our accident in December, and ever since pulling my pick up truck behind it, I became almost paralyzed with the fear. So we picked some calmer roads and highways and after a little while of white-knuckling it, I managed to do all right.

More mini adventures along the way:  Neither of our driving apps warned us about the road closure we encountered on our way to Cedar Island. (Although one local old guy did stop to point out repeatedly that there were six signs along the way doing just that. "Six signs! Six! If I had a dollar for every one who didn't see those and had to make a u-turn...Six!"). When one is driving a thing that long with a truck attached, let's just say that u-turns are just not an option. Neither is backing up. So. We did a little off-roading. It was interesting. It was fun. Only because I was not behind the wheel at the time.

Stop 4 was Cedar Island, NC, a beautiful and isolated (and unbearably, oppressively hot) campground just outside the Outer Banks ferry we would be taking first thing the next morning. 

Waiting to load the RV onto  the ferry for Outer Banks

Next stop: Hatteras, NC in the Outer Banks, one of my very favorite places!

On the Road Again: The (Temporary) Return of the Travel Blog

Back on the road...!

It has been one year since I've contributed to this little space of mine, and three years since the four of us have all piled into our RV for a looooong road trip.

I've missed both.

For the next month, we will be on the road in "Honu," our 32 foot Class C motorhome traveling around to both new and familiar places in the Southeast U.S.

"A month?!?" people usually gasp. "Wow. All of you? In there? For a month?"

This is actually shorter than our last summer trip, which took us (almost) to Canada (it was too damn cold for this beach bum) and took up about 6 weeks of our summer. So yeah, a month doesn't really scare us.

Although....

Last time it was a 6-year-old and a 9-year-old we were dragging around and sharing about 250 square feet of living space with, not a practically-13-year-old and a now-suddenly-getting-opinionated-nearly-10-year-old. For people who do not have kids (stop gloating), that may not seem like much of an age difference. For those who have entered, are enduring, or have survived the teen years, you know this can be a potentially volatile situation.

However...

Hubby and I are (perhaps naively) optimistic. In fact, we couldn't wait to get back in the RV and escape it all with them. You see, the amazing thing for us is that when we do go camping together (I use the term "camping" loosely here, since, hello, I have a mini apartment on wheels here), everything else seems to fall away. The essence of who we all are, as individuals and as a family, seems to really come back to the surface. This is our hope for this trip: that we stop bickering (mostly) about nonsense like video game time or who sits where on the couch...that we will, once again, build memories that will make them want to continue spending time with us, even as they grow older...that they will meet new people and see new places and try new things and just sit and breathe and play and laugh and love.

We have made a lot of changes in our lives over the last few years so that we can attempt to live in a perpetual state of vacation. We take mini trips every other month, if not more often. We go to the beach on weekdays. We make time to play as often as possible. But these trips, the "big ones", these are really what it's about for us. So here's hoping that this one, like all the others, fills up our souls and brings us even closer together.

Here's the itinerary:
Stop 1: Melbourne, Fl...Visiting "Tantala" AKA our dearest friend and the boys' pseudo Grandmother
Stop 2: St. Augustine, Fl....After studying Florida history, Ben requested we return to check it out again
Stop 3: South of the Border, North & South Carolina state line...this stop is mostly for practical purposes, but I'm thinking we may get a little Griswald-y here
Stop 4: Cedar Island, NC..just an overnight sleep stop
Stop 5: Outer Banks, NC...AKA My Second Favorite Place Ever
Stop 6: Cherokee, Smoky Mountains, NC...hoping to get over my fear of white water rafting here as well as enjoy some tubing, aerial park adventures, visit Asheville, do some hikes
Stop 7: Nashville, TN...spending a little downtime between the mountains and our next long drive during July 4th week at truly country-themed campground
Stop 8: Pitstop in Lynchburg, TN to check out the Jack Daniels Distillery (if you know us, no explanation is necessary here)
Stop 9: Florida Caverns State Park, Fl...went here on our very first RV summer trip (back when we thought being gone for 9 days was an adventure), and the boys barely remember it
Stop 10: Henderson Beach, Destin, Fl...this was my first beach campground experience and became the measuring stick for all future beach camping trips

Happy (and safe) travels to us...!

Old posts from the road:

Lessons Learned in an RV

Mommy Blog turned Travel Blog

Bliss in Outer Banks

RV Girls Wear Heels Too

The 4 of Us for 8 Days in a 20 Year Old RV

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all."

                                        ~Helen Keller

This summer was...

Summer is good.

But in this house, summer is glorious. 

For two school teacher parents and two school-age boys, summer around here means nine weeks of "What do you wanna do today?" 

And because we did not go on any possibly life-altering trips this summer, we had a lot of time to sleep in, stay up late, and just play.

This summer was...

...camping and surfing

...first-time-ever Zoo Camp

...motel sneak-aways

...boat days with friends

...spontaneous baby turtle sightings

...finally getting the big projects done

...family water park days

...brother bonding over penguins

...never too old for matching birthday drinking shirts

...summer bucket list ice skating

...growing up on the beach 

 ...surprise manatee visitations while SUPing

 ...finally shooting hoops in the front yard

We are ridiculously lucky.

We know this.

But we also know that life's too short to just play for one season. 

So, in an attempt to celebrate what's coming instead of mourning what's ending...

This Fall will be...

...back to healthy(-er) eating and gym mornings

...the blessed type-A sense of calm that comes with routine

..."This Is Us" new episodes

...using Thursdays as an excuse for wine

...using Fridays as an excuse for Happy Hour

...regular paychecks

...Epcot Food and Wine trips

...one more go at Disney in the RV

...the holidays (Halloween is right around the corner and before you know it, hello!...it's Christmas!)

...falling asleep on the sofa by 8:45

...looking forward to the weekends to go out and play!

A Private Love Letter for the World to Read (Again)

March 23, 2002  Key West, Florida

Fifteen years of marriage.

It simultaneously feels like it was "just yesterday" and a lifetime. I can't remember what my life was like or who I was before I married him. And yet, it still feels so fun and exciting and worthwhile, that on date nights, I still get slightly giddy. I still fluff my hair out a bit when I see him walk in the room.

So in spite of the fact that I rarely visit this little corner of my world lately, I could not let such an important date go by without feeling the need for a little declaration, an "ode to" of sorts...

I wrote this letter a little over seven years ago as a response to a blog challenge in which I participated. Every word still rings true, and, I suspect (and hope), it still will in another seven...or fifteen...or fifty....



Dear "Hubby,"

When Momalom put out a challenge to write a love letter, you immediately came to mind. I hesitated, though, because really...what would people think...that I am choosing to profess my love to my husband? And on the Internet?? Seriously, how corny and codependent is that? I thought of so many other clever "loves": my stilettos, my cocktails, my pillow. Even writing a love letter to my children, although very predictable, would have been more acceptable, I suspect.

But I chose you. I think I owed it to you and to Us to be honest. To put it out there. You have never been afraid to shout it from the rooftops. And as loud as I usually am, I think you deserve a little more noise from my side.

Plus, our love affair started on paper...post-its stapled shut, letters on notebook paper...the lines impossibly and frantically filled with confessions, promises, and fears.

So let me just say it...the cliche...the thing so often found inside greeting cards this time of year: I don't know how I got so lucky.

I don't.

I look around and find it impossibly delicious that you are mine.

There was something about you, from the beginning, that made me stop breathing. Literally. I would stop breathing when you walked into a room. What is that? Really. What is that? And although I can say I think you're hot as hell, and although I am sure you'd love to hear that it was your amazingly rugged good looks that did it to me, it wasn't. It was something else entirely. Although, even now, ten years later, I still can not name it.

The absolutely most amazing thing about it is this: when you walk unexpectedly into a room, and I look up and am surprised to see you, in that moment when the realization hits that it is You, I still get a flutter...there is still a very slight, very shallow, very sudden intake of breath. Oh. It's you.

Some of my love is shallow and silly. Sometimes, when we're out on a date night, I scan the room. I look at all the men there and I pretend I don't know you and I am always amazed that you are the only guy I would want to buy me a drink. And probably take me home.

Some of my love is the kind that can only grow from the everyday: raising children, paying mortgages, real life. When the children are sick, you wake up right alongside me (sometimes without me), you take the temperatures, you clean the vomit, you hold them close until they fall asleep. You make them feel safe. When the house needs cleaning, when the dinner needs cooking, when the laundry needs doing, you just do it. You don't point it out. You don't ask for props. You never call it "helping."

But even more than my partner at home, you're my partner in crime. There is no one I have more fun with...no one I'd rather get slammed drunk with....no one makes me laugh as much as you do. How is it that I have married a man who can be at a club with me til 4:00 in the morning, partying like a frat boy, and then be Daddy the next day, so often better than I can be Mommy?

You love like no one I know, yet you don't offer it easily. It's hard to get to you. It's hard to matter in your life. As sensitive and passionate as you are, you reserve that for a very select few. You simply don't have time, you say. And, as you so honestly put it, just don't care. You don't care about being politically correct. You don't care about what others want or expect. You answer to nearly no one. Yet for those of us who have been lucky enough, your loyalty is frighteningly intense. You will go to the ends of the earth for someone you love, but always expect the same in return.

From the beginning, you put me first. That was our deal. Above everything and everyone, we would make Us our priority. And even after the kids came, even after life became more and more difficult to juggle, you've held me to that. You've held Us to that. When I get caught up in Life: the bills, the responsibility, the kids, the general noise inside my head, you call me on it. You want to talk. To drink wine. To listen. To love.

I love you as much for this constant desire to make time for us as for your absolute refusal to put up with my shit. I can be tough. I can be clingy. I can be whiny. I can be bitchy. You call me on that, too.

Yet despite your total and complete commitment to me, you have your own life. You have your passions outside of Us. You need your time away, your time alone, to be your own self, separate from being mine, or ours, or theirs. Your love for the outdoors, for your bikes, for testing your limits, makes me love you even more. You are, without question, your own person, apart from your family. And so you understand why I need to have my own things, too. It is what makes you understand all of me...my blog, my friends, my interests, my latest crazy idea.

That is the best thing about you, I think, if I had to pick one (other than those forearms of yours): you understand me. Really, and truly, you understand me. You've seen my absolute best and, embarrassingly, my absolute worst, and everything in between. You not only accept who I am, but you want me to be more of it: you are the one who constantly reminds me to stop being afraid of myself.

So, no. I don't know how I got so lucky. I don't know what happened or how it happened or why it happened. Sometimes I look around, at you, at our kids, at us, and I still can't believe this has worked. I can't believe we are this happy...this in sync. So, yes. My love letter had to be to you. Because there is nothing and no one I love the way I love you.

Love,
Me

*This blog was originally posted here on February 8, 2010.
Happy Anniversary, P. 
You were the best decision I ever made.