Eleven! Eleven. Eleven. This is about the point where I'm tempted to say something along the lines of "wow, I'm getting old." But I can't say that yet. I was just a baby when we got married. I'm still young.
We went to the temple together for our anniversary. 8 hours in the car with 3 restless, loud children. What a way to celebrate! They were really good and Eric and Bri made us very happy by taking a nap on the way down and on the way back home. We set up a babysitting swap with some friends, so we were able to go inside together--haven't done that in more than a year. It was wonderful to be there together.
I put together a little something for Pedro (mostly for me, because I'm the sentimental type).
I had all this stuff in boxes in the top of my closet or in the garage, and I finally decided to pull them out so I can have all these reminders around me. In the shadow box I put Pedro's boutonniere, my jewelry I wore on our wedding day, my garter, our Spanish invitation, a framed napkin, a framed picture from our honeymoon, the ribbon that was tied around the first bouquet of flowers he ever gave me, some Precious Moments dolls, and the Altoid tin that he put the ring in when he proposed.
In the frames are pictures of our first car, first Christmas tree, first apartment, notes Pedro left for me, plane tickets from our honeymoon, wedding announcements, a ticket to Time Out for Couples, pictures of the 2 of us together...stuff like that.
Cuz I'm sentimental like that.
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