He Looks After Me.

A self-made beard ;).

I've been feeling very 'blah' lately. A few weeks ago my gums started to swell around one of my wisdom teeth, waking me up in the middle of the night with strange flu symptoms. I've still had to get on with life, as you do, and it's been tough on both me and Roman. One morning I put on a Christmas movie, on our iPad in bed and I woke up to Roman accessing my Facebook page - thankfully he doesn't write because that would be an interesting status update, wouldn't it? 'My mum puts me in front of movies so she can sleep in' ;). All he was doing was scrolling through photos, looking for babies to clap eyes on no less (this boy is baby crazy, it's a little bit funny.)

From Friday-Sunday Bryan is off. Today was Sunday, the first day during that time period of Bryan being off that I began to feel like 'me' again. Roman was all over me like a little limpet, not desperate to leave my side and offering me food and drinks whenever he could. I never believed a child could be so sweet and thoughtful, but he really is. In this moment where I felt over whelmed and very connected to our first born I asked Bryan to take a photo. This is a special moment for me and although it doesn't look special this is it. This is life. These are our mummy moments, our cuddle moments, the moments we need to capture and have imprinted somewhere special on our brains so we can conjure up these images when we feel we can't cope or go on with this motherhood thing. Us and our children, together.

This Is How We Do It.

These days you don't fight to get out of the buggy, you don't mind me wrapping you like I do (above) to keep the cold from nipping your legs. 

There is one trait that I have that I hope you do/don't inherit and that is my ability to protect myself, or what's more commonly been referred to as my 'self defensiveness.' I hope you inherit this because while I like to jump to the defence of others (sometimes more than jumping to my own defence) I also like to defend the things that matter to me. I like to be understood, I like to clarify my point but I'm also learning; most people don't care and just enjoy judging you. Let it go and move on from their words.

These days I have imaginary conversations in my head or dream up scenarios where people in my life ask me questions about my day to day routine, about how I 'cope' with being ill and having a child - I assume no one is thinking this but I work through a variety of questions in my head should anyone wonder.

So, I thought you might like a record of this, so we can both look back and laugh in 20 years time or whatever ;). 

The one thing that sits heavily on my mind is the above. I don't talk about illness a lot because I'm scared of judgement; which is strange because whenever the judgement comes I just think 'that's a shame this person is so switched off to learning more about this illness' or 'you don't know what you're talking about and if you did, perhaps you wouldn't be so quick to judge this.' I worry that the mothers who have or had loads of children (to me that's 2+ children) judge me and think things like I can't 'cope' with my 'one child.' That I somehow must have things easy and I'm just being weak. I don't know if anyone thinks that but I'm sure someone has to, right? 

Then there are other sick people, people with M.E who try to talk to me, who I feel deserve to be understood and taken seriously yet I don't extend the same to myself. I panic that they think I'm 'not really ill' and this is another reason not to talk about illness. I do housework (minimal, but still, I'm doing it), I look after a child all day; cooking his food, cleaning his messes, trying my best to get him to use a potty, stay in bed, eat his greens and brush his teeth. All in all I feel like I 'do more' than the average M.E person but this 'doing more' often leads to not being able to attend church meetings and services, having absolutely no social life of my own, having zero friends, barely seeing family as well as taking the judgements that come with not attending church meetings and services - and the repercussions it has on my life even though both God and I know and see the good I'm doing in my own life and really, that's all that matters to me. 

In my heart and mind I'm just as worthy as anyone else who attends all their church services and meetings and is a worthy temple recommend holder, in a church sense I'm also at that point, just as worthy as anyone, doing all I can and going above and beyond when I can. Yet from time to time I feel judged because I am simply not at church, my body isn't there, my behind filling a seat, my voice not being heard in a room where a discussion on the gospel takes place yet in my home, in my mind, in my heart - and with God's approval - I am just like someone who is there for righteous reasons.  And deep down that's all the 'approval' or permission I need. No one is better than me because they are simply at church. I'm learning that it's inside your heart, what your deepest spiritual goals, desires and then acting on them and living what you believe (whether that's religion or non-religion) are the things that count in life.

This year has been all about: adjusting to being without so much help and it's been hard, but it's also been rewarding. Women are strong and so capable and I've felt that so much over the past few years of motherhood. My patience has new levels, my understanding has grown and I feel stretched to lengths I honestly didn't think possible. I'm working on myself now more than I ever have. We're doing well, but we're just exhausted and sick at this time of year. I'm doing well, I'm just exhausted and sick of judgement. I don't want my child to live in this world as it is now and I'm hoping to be the change I wish to see; one day a time I will judge people less and less.

***************************************************************************
A little side note:

I'm glad that I'm stretching myself, I'm glad this way of life works for me and I'm glad that I self-question myself so much; it gives me an opportunity to appreciate that motherhood is the making of me, that this is my best and I can finally see that and appreciate it for what it is. I finally know, really know, what I want from my life and that's my son, my faith, my relationship and my family.

Kiss.

My comment to Bryan on this photo: "It's nice, but I can't edit the brightness in it so I don't think I'll share it." He then encouraged me to share as is and I looked at him like he didn't know me at all - you know the perfectionist crazy person that I am and then I thought to myself; shut up, listen to your husband and share it. 

I'm glad I'm sharing it. It's one of the nicest moments I've witnessed in my life. Roman is at this great (but sometimes terrible) age where he has these moments of pure love for us both. Kisses, cuddles and sweet muffled 'I wuv ooo's' are shared from time to time, sometimes randomly and always well received. And so I'd like to document these moments, these times where it seems the world is on pause and he reaches in for a kiss or a cuddle. I'd also like to share it for Roman's sake, for the times in the future where he feels unloved or unwanted. You are very much loved, very much wanted and very much thought about. If you ever doubt the love your dad has for you; it's right here for you to see in this moment and this photograph. Don't forget it.

Another Point of View.

56/366

I've been feeling a bit under the weather (achy, pukey, warmy and generally not well) so today Bryan had the job of taking Roman's photo with his cheap camera - I say cheap but a lot of people wouldn't consider it cheap at all, I suppose, but then you consider how much money has gone into my own photography kit and you might think twice about that ;).  

When I asked him to take a photo I assumed he'd snap one on my camera but I'm glad he caught it on his. Life isn't just about showing the 'good bits' or trying to impress people. It's not about being flash, a poser or a perfectionist. Life, and this photo project, is all about capturing moments and enjoying the results. And Bryan's results made me smile from ear to ear. 

This is the boy we both love equally. The boy who is his own person - the one who loves to play with the doors and hide in the porch (I know it was called a porch in England, which was news to me, so I don't know if it's called something different in Scotland/the rest of the world.)

This is my little boy and this my little reminder that he's still small. Still so young, innocent and care-free. When he's driving me to tears I'm going to keep this picture in my mind and in my heart. I'll try to remind myself of his sweetness and remind myself that this won't last forever.

Anything but...

Remember when I posted about my Google search terms for the blog here? Basically these are the most popular search terms used by people, on Google, and they'll end up here because of it.


Well I had a look, out of curiosity, tonight and this term came up:

mormon perfect life blog

I have a problem with this. Number one problem is that a lot of journalists have recently written about how 'Mormon blogs' have sprung up all over the Internet - with the authors of the blogs being housewives who write about their 'perfect Mormon lives.' My life is Mormon, but it's not perfect.

I love my beliefs and my life but I struggle with both - usually struggling more with the latter. There is a great implication in general that somehow those of a particular faith or belief lead these impeccable lifestyles - or at least lifestyles that try to be impeccable.

Well I'm here to tell you that I'm probably like you. I slum it in my worst clothes around the house from time to time. I have arguments with my husband over things that don't matter the next day, although I'm trying to cut back on those because an argument free household (at least between my parents) is what I grew up in - and it was great. I also question my abilities as a home maker, which are thin on the ground. I can go days where my hair hasn't been washed. And I don't bake my own cookies. Although, that would be great.

The thing is that, I feel, with my beliefs as they are I am a pretty happy person in life, in general. Yes the every day grind wears me down as much as the next person and sometimes I don't understand the conveyor belt-like set-up of housework (something gets dirty, clean it, something gets dirty again, clean it again) but as I know my Heavenly Father personally knows me, I feel secure as a person. 

We're also taught to honour each other as husband and wife and with that you have to learn empathy, understanding and trust like nobodies business. A husband has no dominion over his wife and a wife has no dominion over her husband. They compliment one another as they stand side by side. And perhaps it's that great equality we've managed to find in our relationships, that the World seems to lack, that makes us come off as 'smug' or 'perfect.' And what's wrong with perfect?

Yes, granted, I don't feel it's a state any one can reach in this life. This life is our perfection dart board. We try to hit that bullseye and miss, but it doesn't mean we stop trying to reach that target. 

Perhaps perfection is so far-removed from where the World, societies and cultures can be right now that the very idea seems so far fetched to people who look in from the outside? I don't know.

All I know is my own life. And my own beliefs. And all I know is that I am not writing this 'Mormon perfect life blog.' I am capturing my families life, as we grow - and it's not perfect. In fact it's actually quite messy, fun and full of tears and grammar mistakes.

When it is enough?

"The Lord doesn't expect us to work harder than we are able. He doesn't (nor should we) compare our efforts to those of others. Our Heavenly Father asks only that we do the best we can—that we work according to our full capacity, however great or small that may be."

— Dieter F. Uchtdorf

I think it's definitely something we all do at some point in our lives; compare and contrast with others. 


As I'm sick and housebound I know that comparing and contrasting can be as bad as catching a cold or a sickness bug; it takes hold of me, makes me feel a hundred times worse and leaves me very weak. 


I used to care a lot more about the things I didn't have and the things I couldn't do. These days? I still care, just not half as much. 


I used to be jealous of those with mortgages. But in all reality a mortgage is a bad thing for us right now; if something went horribly wrong there is noway we could juggle a mortgage and repairs. By the time my parents were my age, they had a home and a mortgage but were they any better of than I am right now? They sacrificed, scrimped, saved and went through a lot to keep their home. They endured trials I couldn't face right now and I don't have to face. Because I don't have a mortgage. It's a blessing, not a curse.


So what of comparing your abilities to others? Are you constantly at it like me? 


I'm 25 and barely make it out of my flat three times a month. Of course I am going to compare my life to others. I think even 90 year old's make it out of the door more than me. I used to constantly put pressure on myself to do everything and be everything. I just can't do it any more. I'm frail at 25 and I have to be okay with that because there is no cure to my illness.


There is another gnawing hope inside my heart. Knowing the sweetness of the blessing that children bring into your life I have been craving adding to my family but I know it's not going to happen. One child is probably our limit and I realise this is a personal thing to write about but I'm fed up and exhausted of being asked when we're having another baby (unless you're my Dad because that's allowed.) 


We're probably not going to have any more kids, just so you know, not that it was any of your business in the first place. My failing fertility - again feeling old inside my body - and pathetic state of health is making sure of that. I was very fortunate that I had Roman when I did. 


But I'll tell you something; I am happy. So happy beyond anything I could measure. And I am grateful for the life I have. Because every now and then something comes along and reminds me not to be sad and to realise just how much I am taking on and doing. I'm taking on a lot and half the time I'm not even sure how I'm doing it. All I know is that I pray and somehow Heavenly Father makes all the pieces of the puzzle fit. He reminds me daily that I am doing my full to capacity best.


 And that if I feel that's not enough, tough luck.  It is enough.

This is what it's all about...

 "Moments are the molecules

 that make up eternity."

Elder Neal A.Maxwell. 

It's my Dad's birthday today and usually he doesn't like a big fuss made but I am going to share with you a story about one of his birthday's I remember. I think it was his 40th birthday and he really didn't want any fuss made. He's that kind of a guy. We were in France this year and my Mum really wanted to go all out for him. So she had us drawing these signs saying "HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY DAD!" which we plastered on the caravan window and I think a sign even made it onto his car window. When he saw it he was suitably mortified but I think secretly touched. Or at least that's the reaction we were hoping for ;). Anyway, the whole day was awesome and all about us; the kids. Or rather, the family. 

I know that my Mum is a massive influence on how important family is but it's both my parents who've taught me how really important it is. And it's through life's little moments that I've learned this, it was through experiences like the above that I've come to realise just how precious people are.

I once heard (and can't remember where from) a quote that basically summed up life. That life is a flash in the pan experience, it can slip through your fingers very easily and that each moment was worth living because death was an eternity. This life is only brief.


It may feel like it stretches on forever, endlessly, but it really flies by. 


Last week I wasn't sure what meaning my life held any more. I felt so pointless, useless and pathetic. I tried to cry and the tears wouldn't even well up in my eyes. I thought of worst case scenarios in my mind and the tears came freely. I felt horrible the next day because I'd given into these despairing thoughts.


My Dad gave me some advice about feeling like this - although, truthfully, he didn't know the depths of my emotions at the time but I don't think that was important - and it made me eternally grateful that I am his daughter. He basically said that I made the mistake of thinking that these problems and feelings will last forever - when in all reality they are fleeting. And it's true. Happiness and sadness are never constant; they always fluctuate so why should I give into one emotion or the other? 


So, what's important to me? My Saviour's pure love. My Heavenly parents that only want the best for me. My sweet son and loving, caring husband. My Earthly parents (kind and dear.) My family. The precious few friends I have.


And I am grateful for so much more. So much, much more.


So do I believe we're all made of stars like Moby sung about? No. We're not made of stars; we're made up of molecules. Tiny atoms. And so is time. Life's moments really are tiny in comparison to what we have ahead; eternity. This is why life is so precious, so significant and so worth living.

Easter.

I could overwhelm you with my heart felt beliefs about Easter.

I could write a poem and post it on here about Easter.

I could sing you a song about Easter.

Instead, I decided to make a video of Roman opening his first ever Easter egg.

(Excuse my croaky voice, I have had a sore throat for about two weeks now and I'm slowly losing my voice.)

This is his second Easter but his first time with his own whole Easter egg.

When I was a kid there was no strict policing on Easter eggs that I seem to recall - you were given the eggs and gorged on them until you were sick - and in my case that happened a lot, because I was greedy and had no will power when it came to sweet 'treats' (is it really a treat when too much of the good stuff can cause Type 2 Diabetes?)

Buut I do remember one year; we got Cadbury's Creme Eggs every single year from my Granny and Granpa Kirk. Without fail. I loved this because Creme Eggs were my favourite of favourites. And let's face it every piece of confectionery was my favourite - I didn't discriminate. Well, this one year, my parents got the Creme Eggs early. Not wanting to release the goods until nearer Easter they kept them in a 'safe' cupboard (where little children wouldn't go prying, I assume.)

Well, one night, the Creme Eggs started calling out to them. And do you know what those little Creme Eggs were saying?

"EAT ME! EAT ME! EAT ME!"

And so they did. It must have taken them a while to plough through 6x4 Creme Eggs (you do the calculations), but they were scoffed. We didn't get Creme Eggs that year.

As a parent I had my own Creme Egg Incident this year - minus the Creme Eggs.

Roman got his egg early, too, you see. And in this egg package was a bar of chocolate. As you may or may not know I have given up chocolate - I don't want Type 2 Diabetes, seriously, I am paranoid about this.

However, one night, it was shouting at me. Over and over again. And do you know what it was saying?

"EAT ME! EAT ME! EAT ME!"

And well, it had been a long day where I'd missed at least two meals - I sometimes get so tired that lifting a fork is a great effort - and I felt like eating it. 

I split it with B (who got about 4 squares) and did I feel bad? A little bit. You see I was literally stealing candy from a baby*. 

And well, it never tasted so good ;).

*Roman disclaimer: I really have nothing to say for myself on this matter. I did a bad thing. I broke my chocolate fast. But let's be real here for a second, (and justify our wrongs) how long would it have taken one little boy to get through so much chocolate? Exactly. I rest my case.

Thinking about: My 14 month old doesn't walk. But he sure can talk.

(Excuse the quality of the photo, it was taken on my camera phone.)

10 months ago things were looking good on the physical development front.

I wasn't worried (apart from the time he wasn't sitting up by himself for ages.) He was 4 months and had mastered rolling over.

Also, I want to make it clear that the above photograph was taken when Ro Ro was 10 weeks old. He was determined he was going to walk. Even then.

I thought to myself; "We're going to have a circus act on our hands by the time he's 2 years old." I pictured him lifting cars and wearing his underpants on top of his spandex trousers. Maybe a gold 'R' emblazoned on the chest of his spandex suit.

Not really.

I just imagined that we'd be a lot further on physically right now. I'm not letting it eat me alive - again - but I am starting to think; "why doesn't my 14 month old walk already?"

He gets himself around just fine. He crawls anywhere and everywhere he can get too. Once he's arrived at his destination he'll pick himself up and shuffle along on his feet. Or he'll fall onto his bum and begin the crawl.

And sometimes he nabs things off tables, crawls away with them and lies on his back to enjoy them, happy as a clam.

I need to learn his lesson in calm, in not freaking out. In just going with how he develops. He will do things when he's good and ready. He made sure of that by being born 8 days after the doctor and midwife predicted he'd arrive. He will never be rushed in life and this is one of those things.

It scares me how independent he is at 14 months. He's pulling off clothes, handing them to us and he will dress himself with a little bit of help. 

He has also been brushing (back combing) his hair for months now and is perfecting the use of the comb through his locks. 

He is so thoughtful and considerate. He tears off pieces of food and offers them to us. He offers us toys and clothes. He's sharing and he's caring. 

He kisses photographs of himself. He says soo many words. Dad, Mum, Hiya, Hey You (B's influence...it sounds like bloomin' Rab C Nesbit has moved in with us), Eh-Oh (umm Teletubbies are to blame), Bye Bye, CAT, Amen (at the end of prayers no less), Granny, Granpa, Gog (Dog), Up and 'up above' (he sings 'up above...wurlsoooohii' as in Twinkle Twinkle Little Star) and well if there are any more I am missing I'm sure B will point them out to me!

So I don't give a stuff if he's not walking yet. He'll get there. He's getting around and this obviously suits him. If he was that bothered or taken by walking I'm sure he would be doing it by now.

For now I'm going to take a chill pill and enjoy the chasing after I don't have to do.

Happy Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day to my Mum.

She's a mother to four children, Granny to three grandchildren and comes from a long line of strong, independent women who can take care of their homes, DIY, stretch a budget, cook for twelve*, entertain and educate children, make clothes, have babies and so much more!

I love my Mum loads. We haven't always been best friends (and you know what Super Nanny thinks of parents as best friends so perhaps it was for the best!) but now we definitely are. I love spending time with her and being in her company. Everyone who meets her likes her - I have yet to meet someone who doesn't.

She's a good Granny and loves to spend time with her grandchildren. She loves them equally and whole heartedly.  She isn't interfering or overpowering.

I know if I mould myself into the sort of Mum she was that I will be doing a good job with raising Roman.

"I grew up confidently expecting to have a profession and earn my own living, and also confidently expecting to be married and have children. It was fifty-fifty with me. I was just as passionately determined to have children as I was to have a career. And my mother was the triumphant answer to all doubts as to the success of this double role. From my earliest memory she had more than half supported the family and yet she was supremely a mother."

- Crystal Eastman. 

Thank you, Crystal Eastman. Thank you for putting into words exactly how I would describe my own Mum, expectations and upbringing.

So a Happy Mother's Day to all the Mama's out there.

And to one of the best Granny's in the World: Thank you for being my Mother's Mother. Without you we wouldn't be here and without you we wouldn't be who we all are. You've created this family from the ground up.

Get Well Soon.

*and this happened on many, many occasions. Especially at Christmas time with missionaries who were far away from their own Mama's.

365: The End of a Photography Era.

I DID IT!

365 days, 365 photographs = complete.

When Roman was a little over 4 weeks old I finally decided I should start a 365 Photography Project with him. The above photo was our starting point.

The idea came from Gregarious Peach a beautiful blog which 'documents delight.' 

I wanted to document my own delight and ended up doing so much more in the process.

(Image: C.Quinn. This is the original photograph and one of my favourite ideas, I decided to re-work this a couple of times.)

I uploaded the photos onto Facebook and under the description put down my days thoughts; any little stories, milestones or whatever else I had swimming in my head at the time. When my only reliable and decent camera died I still continued on. I took photos using my husband's camera phone. It wasn't until a few months later I decided we needed a 'better camera' and purchased our trusty 2004 Canon Powershot - as well as buying Lightroom later on in the year to enhance what the camera could not.

(Image: C.Quinn. My second re-work of the original photo above, totally different perspective.)

I haven't regretted a single day. There were days where I would comment on how crappy things had been that day or I would moan about sleeping patterns being destroyed, breasts hurting or neighbours being butt heads and when I look back now it provides me with a smile on my face and the perspective I need to see that my life is the most crazy/beautiful thing I have been blessed with ever.

(Image: C.Quinn. My third re-work of the original image and probably my favourite.)

I love it.

This Project was something I started as a keepsake for Roman and to keep my Mum and other family members updated on Roman. My Mum came to stay with us for a month - two weeks before and two weeks after he was born - in February and I felt sad she would miss out on his day to day growth. 

I have made some cherished ties with people I never even knew before this 365 Project and rekindled old friendships that time forgot. 

(Image: C.Quinn. I re-worked this second photograph as the 365 Project concluded. If you look very closely you will see B's hands wrapped around Ro's waist.)

I have learned so much - mostly from the King aka Roman himself - about life, about babies, about love, about loss (yep), about marriage, about myself, about cameras, about editing, about photography and about people reaching out in this year.

(Image: C.Quinn. Re-worked from the above image, here is what it looked like eleven months later. Making me teary eyed by sitting by himself on the wall - and still not too happy wearing socks. )

This is for everyone:

Thank you for being one of my cheer leaders. Thank you for being one of my followers, even if you didn't comment - thank you for taking five minutes out of your day to appreciate the work. Thank you for all the comments. Thank you for new and re-kindled friendships. Thank you for all the likes. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over.

And thank you to all my followers on the blog - and all my readers.

This is for B:

Thank you for taking the photographs, my crap about taking the photographs, inspiring some of the ideas and telling me I couldn't quit just about every single day.

And this, well this is the photograph we ended on:

P.S. I will still be keeping the blog on. After all this was a 'behind the scenes' look into our lives and I've loved writing about that.

Don't miss out!

Leave me a great comment.

Mormon/LDS Bloggers and my thoughts.

I've heard a lot about what Mormon Bloggers are for a while now.

Here are my thoughts on the matter:

We're (we're being LDS/Mormon bloggers) often revered for our "picture perfect lives/out-of-style-magazine homes/our cookies/pies etc."

I don't have a picture perfect life by anyone's standard. And to be honest I don't know anyone - LDS or not - who does. We're (we're/we being humankind) all constantly wishing we could be better than we are - after all if we weren't, would cosmetic surgery be such big business? Would we even bother to keep up with fashion trends or cause trends of our own? 

The truth is this: me and my husband argue. I've blogged about it once. 

Because it was included in the context of the blog that I wanted to achieve, not because I wanted to gripe about how bad I have it. Not because I want to paint him as some monster and not even because I wanted to get off my chest about how much he drives me crazy. 

And what is wrong with griping, of painting husbands as monsters in the relationship and of telling others they drive you barmy? 

Well I just think it's counter-productive. When I have a problem with someone, I take it up with them. I think it would be very premature of me to come and detail our arguments, piece by piece. And really although we say we love the drama that life throws at us - do we really?

I turned to my blog as a bigger way of apologising to him. Of saying; "I can't believe I've turned into the things I thought I'd never become." This is the human condition. It can be over come. This is the goal of everyone - LDS or not. Are we agreed upon that? 

I think it is important to acknowledge that both me and my husband are flawed - but why should this be the focus of my blog? It's my way of keeping record of my thoughts. Not a place to bank self-pity - and yes, you're very entitled to self-pity where it's due (didn't want to open up a can of worms on self-pity there.)

I accept there are abusive LDS/Mormon relationships and would never tell someone to keep quiet about this - and neither would our church. And if you want to read someone's view on recognizing emotional abuse read it here. Because the words are placed better than I could have put them and the explanation is pretty thorough and if you're dealing with this then you shouldn't have to live with it, no way. Or go here, here or here. 

The point is that I try to see the good in everything - and I accept people have short comings. However one of my short comings is also one of my husband's and so sometimes we spark off each other and it results in an argument - but why would anyone want to see that? We don't even like it in each other so I don't understand why a reader would want to read about it.

We were wed in 2009 - I had just turned 23 and he had just turned 22. We hadn't been engaged for long at all. We were each other's best friends. I told him anything, everything and the favour was returned. I knew straight off the bat what I wanted and this is something I had never known in any of the relationships I'd had previously. 

I couldn't have had my baby boy without this man I call B. Yes B is annoying sometimes and yes he grinds my gears sometimes but he also has this amazing calming effect on me. He makes me laugh mid-argument when he purposely comes out with an inappropriate moment joke or just a certain look he will give can send me off into a fit of giggles. He's been through things with me that I haven't been through with anyone else; because I haven't let anyone in that close. I'm comfortable, safe, secure and happy - and most importantly I love my husband.

He believes in me. And he believes me.

He isn't threatened by me simply because I am an intelligent woman, like all these other people I have dated. He doesn't speak to me like I am several I.Q points off brain dead. He doesn't tell me what I can and can't do with my life - it's our life and we share it together. He doesn't make decisions that effect me in any major way without speaking to me - and I give him the same courtesy in return.

We are trying to work hard at following what we preach. We are trying hard at upholding the vows we made in 2009. And we are working on our eternal marriage. 

Why? Because we love each other and because we know it's what makes us truly happy. We could retreat away from our beliefs but we believe that wouldn't bring us the true happiness that is promised to us, that we feel every day. Our son is a result of our choice to be married, our love to one another and another sign of our commitment to life. 

We're happy because there's so much to be happy for. Do we get sad? Yes. Do we feel down sometimes, too? Yes. Do Mormons/LDS people suffer from depression and other mental illness? You better believe it. 

There is no conspiracy here; I'm just blogging about the best because when I think of the arguments, the things we said I can't help but think about the joke he made or suddenly images from our wedding day crop up in my mind; I was very late, he didn't look at me when I walked down the aisle, (as per my instructions because I thought it would make me nervous) the intense feelings of happiness and overwhelming love when it came to saying 'Yes' to marriage and the feeling of nervous energy as it got closer and closer to it being us, on our own, the married couple without the fanfare of the wedding day around us. 

And then I sit and wonder what it will be like on our tenth, twentieth and thirtieth and so on wedding anniversaries - how I will feel and how those feelings will evolve over time. Because I fully expect them too. 

Because even after two years of marriage I wish we could do it all over again; relive all the happiness even if it meant going through all the sadness. 

It would be worth it a million times over.

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