16 years. Our marriage can get its' driver's license!

A few weeks ago, Aleks walked in the door from a long day at work and into chaos. I had finished teaching, was cleaning out backpacks and lunch boxes, trying to get a handle on how the girls were doing, make sure the homework was finished, convince Maia to practice piano, and get dinner on the table.

Ruby was having a crises of some sort; it could have been about stresses at school or just that her shoes didn't feel right, really, either is feasible.

So Aleks walked in to this mess and without missing a beat, sat down and said "Ruby, I'd really like to help you figure this out. What can I do?"

That patience and kindness was the thing that hooked me when we first met in college almost 2 decades ago. And over the last 16 years, Aleks' best qaulities have just deepened and expanded into something beyond what I could have ever imagined.

I thought what I was getting from 22 year old Aleks was pretty good.

The gift that is my husband is so much more than I deserve.

16 years ago we moved into our first apartment.

Which had the infamous "shath" or "bower." The bathroom was built into the eave of the house and so stading in the shower was impossible. Also, any time the toilet ran, which it did about every 5 minutes, the water would turn into boiling, scalding torture.

Look at that cell phone on the kitchen counter. This was before Facebook and the iphone as we know it now.

He's still got those Chuck Taylors.

Marriage is a trip. I definitely don't have it all figured out, but I'm grateful to have a patient, honest man with me on the journey.

Look at those babies.

 Lucky. Grateful. Proud.

Happy anniversary Aleks. 

Here's to so many more years of adventure, laughter, and growth.

15 years!

I'm sure most of the people at our wedding thought we were too young to be getting married. Some family members and friends had told us their opinions outright. Some kept it to themselves. But there were also a few in attendance who believed that we knew what we were doing.

I remember crying as I walked down the aisle (and throughout my vows), not because I was sad or anxious, but instead, overcome with the magnitude of it all. As a result, there are no pictures of me in that moment. I'm not a pretty crier.

I remember an epic toast by my maid of honor Erin who, perfectly balancing humor and love, convinced a few of those doubters that we'd be ok.

(my dad married us *inset heart eyes emoji*)

As my college roommate for 3 years, Erin and I knew each other in ways only roommates can know one another. In particular, and lucky for her, she was aware of my self-diagnosed disorder: P.F.A., otherwise known as Public Farting Anxiety. I refuse to pass gas in front of other people, to the point of causing myself discomfort.

As Erin shared my disorder at our reception with our closest friends and family, she went on to tell about a night I returned home from a date with Aleks. I came into her room and said, "I think he's the one. I farted in front of Aleks tonight."

And here we are, celebrating 15 years of marriage.

Aleks, you're still my favorite person. I hold you in highest esteem, respect you and your opinion, and am constantly overwhelmed by the way you father our children. Actually, I'm not sure we knew what we were doing 15 years ago, because I didn't love you a fraction of what I do now.

There is no better partner for me.

Thank you for being the kind of man who encourages me to let my farts out.

14 years

14 years looks like a kiss and a "happy anniversary"as he heads to an all day conference and I get on a plane to Phoenix.

It means studying each other's schedules and choreographing the kid swapping and the bag packing that has to happen before each activity.

It looks like random texts throughout the day telling stories of our kids we forgot to share, or reminding one another the garbage needs to go out, or asking if the credit card bill got paid. And the occasional eggplant emoji text.

For us, it looks like fewer dates night, but increased quality of the time we are alone.

Year 14 has been a good one. Some years are easier than others. Year 13 was hard.

How grateful I am to be partnered with someone who doesn't back away from unhappiness, but instead leans into it and figures out how to make it better.

Aleks has changed a lot this year. I have too. We are simultaneously more independent of each other, yet more strongly bonded.

In this 14th year we've learned to listen to each other better and more deeply. The space surrounding our relationship feels more vibrant and energized.

We've worked really hard to build the life we have together. Undoubtedly it is the single thing of which I am most proud.

Each year life seems to become more complex with kids' ballooning schedules, career advances, and  increased household responsibilities. Yet, the one thing that is crystal clear is my partner; I see him and know him.

Happy anniversary, darling. I'm looking forward to the year ahead and all the adventures it will bring.

(Look at those babies!)

Thirteen

The traditional 13th anniversary gift is lace.

I've never been a big fan of lace. It seems so pretentious and busy. It makes a statement on any garment and is obnoxiously assertive. When I was searching for a wedding dress I made to sure to avoid all dresses that had lace.

Lace is fragile and transparent. When wearing lace, I often feel like it is mocking my solid frame: pointing out my inability to rise to the daintiness and elegance of its delicate construction.

My wedding dress was somewhat simple, adorned with a little embroidery and beading. After 13 years of marriage there is still not much lace in my wardrobe.

This year, more than ever, marks a change for Aleks and I. It seems we've entered a new season in our marriage. Both our kids are in school all day. For the first time since we've been married, we no longer work at the same place. We've been settled in the same city and house for 5 1/2 years, the longest stretch thus far.

For so long, we've been pushing, pushing, pushing to survive. Getting jobs, enduring the trenches of parenthood with kids who are 17 months apart, applying for tenure, the list goes on. And while we are still moving forward and working toward the next upward step, our lives now have some white space.

White space is a metaphor used in businesses about opportunity. In our marriage, this white space means we suddenly have time and energy to see each other clearly without the immediate stresses of financial strain and young children. We see opportunities to redefine our relationship and to question the habitual way we communicate with each other. Inevitably we are confronted with the people we have become over the past 13 years. And because we are different people now, how we fit together is affected.

You'd think after 13 years together, marriage would get easier.

Don't get me wrong, some things are way easier. Like grocery shopping together. I remember in the first year of marriage, the majority of our fights would take place in the grocery store or immediately after a shopping trip. Managing a house together is easier. Asking for help is easier.

Strangely enough, saying what we want seems to be more difficult for us both.

I'm learning that being uncomfortable leads to change. I'm so lucky and grateful to be partnered with someone who wants to become a better version of himself. When things get uncomfortable, Aleks is willing to lean into that discomfort and figure out the root of the problem. He doesn't turn away, which is the safe and easy thing to do.

We choose every day to be better, as individuals and together.

When I think of lace, I picture the intricate details of fabric that are connected by strands and when I think of it that way, it seems frivolous and unnecessary. But, if I think of the spaces, the empty places, where something was taken away, what is left seems extraordinary. And those small connecting strands are no longer fussy, but essential to the entire structure and beauty.

Our marriage started out as a blank sheet. Over the past thirteen years we've put holes into that sheet. Sometimes on purpose, with adjustments in communication and purposeful interactions. Sometimes it has happened accidentally with a harsh word or thoughtless remarks. When I step back, I don't see a damaged product. Rather, I see something beautiful emerging; the holes have left intricate patterns, and the strands holding them are indestructible.

Maybe lace for the 13th year is more appropriate than I thought.

Happy anniversary my darling. Endlessly grateful you are my partner and excited for what life has in store for us next.

 (Not quite 13 years ago, but almost)

Chicago 2014 Edition

A week ago Aleks and I were in Chicago having the best weekend together we've had in a long time.
This week has been hectic, and while I'm bone tired, I'm grateful to have the perspective on how wonderful our trip was.

I'd just like to say that this trip wouldn't have been possible without my amazing, generous, patient, intensely helpful mother-in-law, who watched not only our girls for 3 days, but also our puppy, who is not yet house trained. Oh, and we've had workers at our house for 2 weeks putting up new siding. She put up with that as well, including the day they cut through a pipe on accident.

(Also, can we just note that the previous owners did not have the house tyvek wrapped before putting the siding up? These guys have had to replace a ton of rotted plywood. I can't tell you how good it feels to have this done.)

If Nana isn't up for sainthood, I don't know who is!

Did I mention that we had an amazing weekend? Well, we did. It was completely and entirely the best 3 days Aleks and I have spent together in a long time.

Don't let my crappy iPhone pictures distract you from fact that each day was so fabulous it was if there were butterflies fluttering and birds singing while the sun provided perfect lighting for all our adventures.

Due to delays and connections, we almost didn't make it to Chicago the night we had planned. Thankfully, my husband knows his way around a travel app and how to sweet talk the Delta employees. Magically we made it to our hotel just before midnight.

The weather was perfect and the view from our hotel reminded me how much I love city life.

After a late breakfast we walked around a bit and enjoyed being schedule free.

Then we saw some very dear friends and their new baby!

Who happens to look just like his sister. 

And also happens to love me. If love looks like falling asleep in someone's arms.

We got pedicures together and it was a really great idea. Aleks always talks about how much he loves getting pedicures, but we figured out that he hasn't had one since we've been married.

We told the girls we might bring them a gift from the American Girl Store. After being unable to find anything under a thousand dollars, we left empty handed. They got shoes from the Disney store instead. Which were too small for Ruby. So, womp womp.

Anyway, we had reservations at Rick Bayless' Topolobampo, which we were really excited about.

Two years ago we went to Frontera and saw Rick Bayless, himself! This time Rick was in L.A., but it was an amazing dinner.

7 courses with wine tastings for each course. (I didn't get a picture of the first course, which was actually my favorite, a shrimp cerviche.)

I'm still full.
Seriously.

Somehow we managed to make it back to our hotel without bursting at the seams and then met up with some old friends (they're not old, we've just known them for awhile) for drinks. 

And then the next morning we slept in until 9(!) and I believe the last time I did that was eleven years ago.

Then ate some more and browsed a record store before heading to the airport.

We got home after the girls were in bed, but we had a happy reunion the next morning.

I've been kind of a pain to live with this week. Stressed out and almost manic with everything that needs to be done. This guy has been the best. Patient with me and taking my sometimes misplaced urgency in stride. He's up for sainthood too.

I'll be storing up the memories of this weekend for a long time to come.

It's a good start

You'd think after being married to someone for 11 years, you'd be able to go on autopilot once in awhile.

Eleven feels like such an accomplishment. It says, "we're not messing around!" It demands a pat on the back and a parade.

However, my wise father put things into perspective for me when he causally mentioned, "it's a good start."

He's totally right. Eleven years out of fifty or sixty is just the beginning. And yet, it's still an accomplishment.

At times I feel like we're standing next to each other, watching as the bullets of divorce or sickness or infertility or financial stress claim and injure the people we know.

It makes me want to cling tighter, look inward, and put up the defenses against whatever might try and tear us apart. Because, we're not anything special, we don't have secret insight into what makes a long term relationship work. All I can do is be sure I'm doing my part.

These eleven years of marriage have taught me that:
1. being kind and loving trumps all
2. listening is a highly underrated skill and so very important
3. laughter is the best medicine and nourishment for my marriage
4. there is no place for judgmental thoughts or feelings
5. daily sacrifices are necessary and while it's difficult, the benefits are life-giving

It's no surprise that things change in 11 years. There are three distinct grey hairs on Aleks' chin now. I've got more wrinkles around my eyes. We have less, yet also more patience for each other. The stakes are higher: kids, a house, a dog (a dog!), more pressure in our careers, but it's these things that keep up tethered to each other and motivating us to be better people and spouses.

I'm really happy that Aleks still likes me because I really like him. Heaven knows there are reasons he could have left long ago.

He's the yin to my yang. The air in my tires. The bacon in my twice baked potatoes. He makes my life infinitely better. I'm grateful to be on this journey together.

Happy anniversary darling.

10

10 years.

One decade.

5 just us.

5 with kids.

10 years feels like being so intertwined, you sometimes forget that you've worked really hard to get to this place.

It means that we are completely different people than when we got married.

Thank God we've been able to flex and grow and spread our roots without suffocating or containing the other.

Whatever you want to call it, lucky, blessed, fortunate, charmed, I feel that way about having Aleks as my partner.

How differently life could have turned out.

Why do we work when so many others don't?

There's no way to answer that, but maybe it's because he often reminds me "hey, we're on team Sternfeld-Dunn."

Or because he cares so deeply that I get to pursue whatever it is I want to pursue.

Or because he got up in the middle of the night with our first colicky baby more than his fair share.

Or because his exuberance compliments my cautiousness.

In the spirit of ten years, here are some things on which I am reflecting.

10 foods that Aleks has grown to like since we've been married:
1. mustard
2. mushrooms
3. spinach (which he pronounces "spinage" and which I give him hell for every time he says it)
4. tomatoes (cooked)
5. bell peppers
6. onions
7. raspberries
8. pork tenderloin
9. quinoa
10. wheat berries

 2003

2004

10 things I never thought my husband would be interested in:

1. biking (i have vivid memories of him cussing me out as we rode our bikes together in the Pullman hills)

2. running

3. cooking (before we got married, his speciality was rice-a-roni, now he can cook better than me. Yes, honey, I admit it, you're a better cook.)

4. growing his own vegetables

5. getting up at 5 a.m. to workout

6. buying a motorcycle

7. singing Harold Hill in "The Music Man"

8. America's Got Talent

9. getting a tattoo

10. opera

2005

2006

2007

5 things I hope to eliminate and 5 things I hope to do more of (I'll let you figure out which is which)

1. kiss

2. roll my eyes

3. micromanage

4. laugh

5. tell other people how wonderful you are

6. get upset over little things like jeans left on the floor

7. tell you that you smell bad

8. be your biggest cheerleader

9. doing that thing that he hates, but I do it anyway because I love doing it

10. let you know how much I appreciate all you do

2008

Early in our marriage, Aleks read a study that said that the majority of married couples go to bed at different times.

This greatly concerned my sweet husband and he decided that we should always go to bed at the same time.

I agreed, not feeling too strongly either way.

2009

Most nights I fall asleep in front of the couch or I say that I want to go to bed and so we head up the stairs where I read for 5 minutes or so until my eyes no longer stay open.

And more often than not Aleks stays awake on his iPad for a good hour or two more before falling asleep.

2010

I think around the time I was pregnant with Ruby, falling asleep became hard for me.

I would ask Aleks to rub my back and he obliged, making soft, light circles until I relaxed enough to sleep.

Ever since then, my husband has rubbed my back as I drift off.

Every single night.

2011

I feel like there are two significant things in this story.

One is that as small as it may seem, going to bed at the same time for 10 years has helped us stay connected.

Life isn't getting any less busy and I'm grateful that he had the idea to lay a foundation for togetherness all those years ago when life was so much simpler.

2012

And secondly, my husband rubs my back EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

That says so much about the kind of man he is.

Generous

Giving

Kind

Patient

2013

 Oh honey, what a pair we are.

Me, type A. You, the opposite of that, whatever it is.

I like things neat and tidy. You don't really notice a mess (remember all that old rice we found behind your couch when we were moving you out of your old apartment?).

I get stressed out easily. You know how to enjoy life.

And it's all these differences that have made us better together than we are apart.

I love you doesn't quite cover it.

So I'll just say "Go Team Sternfeld-Dunn!"

Here's to the rest of our lives.

Together.

Nine

Today Aleks and I are celebrating 9 years of marriage.
After almost a decade of sharing my bed with a Sternfeld-Dunn, I have come to the conclusion that sleeping by yourself is a luxury.
In fact, after moving to Wichita, we bought a king size bed.
We are getting some seriously good sleep now.

Nine years.

This would be a great place to insert excerpts of our vows.

But I can't remember what we said or where I've put them.

Somewhere, during the six moves we've made since being married, they've been misplaced.

And perhaps the 2 kids, 17 months apart, have contributed to my nonexistent long term memory.

I do remember that the past nine years have been exciting and filled with lots of laughter.

It seems that each year of our married life has been filled with monumental changes.

Graduate degrees, moves, jobs, kids.

There is no one with whom I'd rather share this life.

I may not remember my vows or what Aleks promised me, but I do know these things:

 My husband has been 

astoundingly supportive,

constantly encouraging,

quick to place me on a pedestal (especially in front of other people),

optimistically minded,

and a calming counterpoint to my frenzied tendencies.

Being married to Aleks has made me a better person.

In my opinion, it doesn't get much better than that.

I love you Aleksander.

And you know what?
If I have to share a bed with someone, I'm glad it's you.