After six years married and eight together, I know some things about my husband.
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Marriage
Six.
Five.
Elective Surgery Sounds like a Breast Lift, and This Was Not That.
I think the lead-up to surgery has to be one of the most torturous things in the entire world. Not trauma surgery, necessarily, for people in tons of pain the getting-a-long-nap-and-tons-of-drugs aspect of the process is a huge relief. 
But elective surgery lead-up is the worst.
Last week Jay "elected" to have a rod and two screws taken out of his leg from when he broke it three years ago when I was pregnant with Beck. I use this word almost jokingly because, yes, he made the choice to have the surgery, but made it because he was in lots of pain and having strange lumpy swelling around the area where the screws stuck out. Elective surgery sounds like a breast lift, and this was not that.
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Fight Like the Kid is Sleeping
Four.
Four years. Four years! Today.
I love our anniversary. I also love this picture because I think someone was saying some instructions for .... something ... and everyone looks vaguely befuddled except for our junior groomsman, Little Jay (seriously), who is charming and poised for the camera as always.
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