A Love Story: Part One.

Valentine's Day does a few things for me. First, it makes me want to redo my entire house in pink and gold. Every trip to Target I take, I manage to convince myself that I would totally leave sparkly hearts up year-round and it would be totally fine. Second, it makes me want all the chocolate. All the chocolate. Third, it makes me sentimental and super cheesy. I want to go on all the dates, write all the love letters, watch all the sappy movies. 
It made me think that while I've shared bits and pieces of how Chris and I met and got together, I've never really talked about it all at once...and what better time to start that story than on Valentine's Day?
I met Chris when I was fifteen. We met at a Bible study where we found out we had a bunch of mutual friends. I thought he was so cute and fun (he was always laughing), but he had a girlfriend (BUZZKILL). To be fair, I had a kind of boyfriend (you know how these things go when you're 15), so we became casual friends and would spend the next two years hanging out every now and then since we knew the same group of people. And then, the summer of 2009 came. 
We started running into each other all the time. He and his 2 best friends were lifeguards at the beach right by where my friend lived, so it became an almost daily thing that we'd see each other when he was working. We became really good friends and had a lot of fun together. 
There's something magical about a summer by the beach right before everyone leaves for college. Adulthood is hovering close by, fall will be coming soon and sending everyone in different directions, and everything just seems more special somehow, like you need to draw it out just a little longer. Like you need to squeeze just a little bit more fun out of every day. It's the best (and absolute worst) time to fall head over heels in summer love with somebody. 

Since Chris and his friends worked on Sundays, they went to a church service on Saturday nights. I did not work on Sundays, but I still went with them a few times. I lived way down south, and the church was pretty far away, so I'd meet them at a little surf shop near Chris' house and leave my car there and ride with him and his friends. It was always fun, driving there with the windows down, listening to music and laughing at stories about everyone's day and going out to eat somewhere after. It was just fun. 
One weekend, Chris asked me if I wanted to come with them on Saturday night. I said yes. He told me that his friends couldn't go and it'd be just him, so he didn't mind driving all the way to my house to pick me up. For some reason, that made me panic. We were friends, we were having a really fun summer, and while we definitely had a flirty kind of thing going on, we hadn't really acknowledged it. I felt like him picking me up alone would somehow force that conversation, and I didn't like it. 
After calling my friend that sometimes went with us and finding out she was busy too, I realized I could either cancel on Chris (and he would know it was because I didn't want to hang out with him alone), or I could let him come pick me up (we're talking an extra 25 minutes both ways). I didn't like either option, so I made up some errand I had to run and said I'd meet him at the surf shop like normal. 
And then, fate intervened. 
And by fate, I mean my car. 
As I was pulling into the parking lot, my engine exploded. Okay, I'm sure that's not actually what happened, but that's what it sounded and felt like. I got there just in time for it to stop running completely. I called my dad who told me to go ahead with Chris and he'd go look at my car while we were gone. A few minutes into the church service, he texted me, car undrivable, see if he can drive you home. 
All that planning to avoid being alone in the car for too long with him, foiled by my car. 
Chris said he didn't mind driving me home but asked if it was okay if we went to dinner with some friends first.
And what followed that, my friends, ended up being one of the best nights of my whole life. But we'll get to that another time. 
Happy Valentine's Day! How did you meet your significant other?

seven years (and counting) because sure, why not?

Yesterday marked seven years since Christopher asked me to be his girlfriend. 
Except, that's not really what happened. Instead, he said, "I like you, we should probably go out to dinner." To which I said, "Sure, why not?" 
We celebrated by going to our favorite breakfast place, the same one we used to go to on weekend visits when he lived in Gainesville for undergrad. We ate grits (that are the life-changing kind of delicious) in celebration of the last seven years. 
It's been two-thousand, five-hundred, and fifty-seven days since then. And they've been filled with a lot more instances of "Sure, why not?" 
Should we try dating long distance? 
Sure, why not?
Let's get engaged. And then married. 
Sure, why not? 
Let's move to Orlando and journey through med-school. 
Sure, why not? 
Do you think we can be good parents?
Sure, why not? 
Med-school. Jack. Match day. Graduation. Gainesville. Doctor. Writer. Good times. Bad times. Thriving. Barely surviving. Pushing, chasing, dreaming. 
Can we? Should we? What should we do next? What about this, or that?
Sure, why not? We can do it-why not? We'll make it-why not? 

Yesterday, I got to sit at a table (which I've surely sat at before) and eat those same life-changing grits with my best friend who just happens to now be my husband of 3 & 1/3 years, and our baby. In the same little town I used to visit where we'd sit and talk and dream about the future.
All because of one little sure, why not? That led to dinner. And that led to falling in love. Which led to getting married. Which led to making a life in Orlando. Which led to Jack. Which led to Match and graduation. Which led us back to Gainesville. 
Full circle. 
Life, man. It's so good. 
Sometimes, you should just throw caution to the wind and say sure, why not. 
You never know where it's going to lead.

Three Years of Marriage.

What. A. Year. 

The third year of marriage was nothing like I expected, but it was the best so far. There were lots of ups and downs, lots of good times and bad times, lots of in sickness and in health. Most of all, there was teamwork-we're a team when it's time to work through the hard things, and we're a team when it's time to celebrate the good. 

I know that in the grand scheme of things, 3 years of marriage may not seem long enough to be significant. But for me, it's already been a lifetime of adventure and learning and growing. A lifetime of building a life with my very best friend. 

December 29th will always be a favorite day of mine, because it will always be the day that we changed our lives forever. The day we became a family. The day we chose each other. And we've been choosing each other every day since. 

Being married to you is my greatest adventure. Happy 3 years...cheers to many, many more. 

Once Upon a Time.

Once upon a time, I started a Christmas date being rushed and told to hurry up and open my presents, and ended a Christmas date with the prettiest diamond ring on my finger. It was the stuff fairy tales are made of. 

I didn't yet know what I was saying yes to...I didn't know the adventures and the hard decisions and the laughter and the hard times and the perfect days I was saying yes to. I didn't know the little fox or the tiny apartment in the sky or the sweet baby boy that would be on the way one day that I was saying yes to.

I just knew that it was my best friend, the love of my whole life, the one who I wanted to live every day with, the one who would give me a lifetime of adventures and memories that I was saying yes to. It was the stuff fairy tales are made of. 

As I was trying (and failing) to fall asleep after the excitement of the most perfect, magical night, I held my new ring in front of my face, admiring it, thinking about how much our lives would change over the next year, and how happy I was that it was happening with him. It was the stuff fairy tales are made of. 

Today, four years later, there's no fancy date on the water or trips to the beach in our formalwear or front-row seats at Cirque Du Soleil.

I woke up, insanely pregnant and uncomfortable, next to the love of my life. When I look at him and imagine how our life is going to change over the next few weeks and how happy I am that this is all happening with him, my heart feels like it may explode, just like it did when I was staring at my new ring.

Today, we'll celebrate us. We'll celebrate our own personal little Christmas that we've had going for so many years now. We'll celebrate the yes that was said four years ago, and all the yeses that have been said since then.

We'll eat somewhere fun, or do some shopping, or exchange gifts, or go look at Christmas lights. Whatever we do, we'll be celebrating deep, honest, once in a lifetime kind of love.

And you guys...it's the stuff fairy tales are made of. 

Christmas & Love: Six Christmases of Forever.

Six Christmases ago, I spent December 22nd panicking about what to get Christopher for Christmas. What do you get someone you've only been dating for six months but are also pretty sure you're in love with? I turned to my dad, who is the gift guru:

"You can't go wrong with sentimental. Pictures, a scrapbook, something like that." 
"Um, is six months too soon for a scrapbook?" 
"Nope. He'll love it." 
"Mmm, is it going to scare him away if I literally hand him a book of our relationship and he gets me movie tickets?" 
"Chelsea, stop talking and make a scrapbook." 

So I did. And it is to this day one of my most treasured belongings, because we have the earliest moments of our relationship recorded, and I have the sweet memory of being terrified to give it to him on December 23rd, when we celebrated Christmas together.

Five Christmases ago, I was absolutely in love, but there was no ring on my finger. There were no plans, only dreams. I made up a scavenger hunt and we spent December 23rd driving around our hometown, taking pictures and exchanging gifts and kisses.

Four Christmases ago, December 23rd brought me the best surprise of my life in the form of Christopher down on one knee and a promise of forever. Each time I opened a gift on Christmas morning, seeing the shiny diamond on my ring finger overwhelmed me with happiness and thankfulness.

Three Christmases ago, I was a little preoccupied, because I was getting married four days later. We had decreed it would be a day of no wedding talk so that everyone could really enjoy Christmas, but my mom and I exchanged glances all day.."Oh, you KNOW what's coming." 

Two Christmases ago, I had one of the best days of my life. For the first time, I woke up on Christmas morning in the same bed as the love of my life. Opening presents and snuggling with our tiny little fox before visiting my family with my new little family...my heart had never been so full.

Last Christmas, my heart was even more full than it was the year before. Every Christmas song I heard, every peppermint mocha I drank, every time I plugged our tree in, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness that this was my life. The good and the bad, the sweet and the hard, it was all mine. And as I celebrated that year, in a tiny apartment in the sky, with my best friend and our tiny little fox, I was so full of joy. "Um, I think that I might love you" five Christmases before brought me such an incredibly full life.

This Christmas, I'm overwhelmed by how much can change in a year. That the boy I made a scrapbook for on our first Christmas together has moved from boyfriend to fiancé to husband to baby daddy. Christmas feels so full this year. The music, the decorations, the presents under the tree, the movies...it all feels so full. Not because it's the most put together Christmas we've ever had--because it's not...baby has made me sick and miss out on some of the normal Christmas cheer--but because I've never felt such real love as I have this December. The thought that this will be the last Christmas just the two of us has made me cherish every moment, even the hard ones.

This year, we're not only counting down to the most magical week of the year, we're also counting down the days until our little guy decides to join us. This year-the most unexpected, insanely shocking year-has brought me to a place of being more full of love for our life than I knew was possible.

When I was wrapping gifts our first Christmas together, I was so nervous and excited to give them to Chris. On my drive home that night, I was so happy. I actually remember thinking, "It just doesn't get any better that this."

This year, wrapping presents (from bed, because my overly giant belly doesn't really allow me to sprawl out on the floor anymore), I thought of that night six years ago. I wish I could go back in time and share with my seventeen-year-old self a glimpse of all that's coming. And I'd tell her, Oh, but it does. It gets so much better.

Because it just doesn't get any better than this.

How many Christmases have you been with your significant other?

two years.

two years.
seven-hundred and thirty days.

three homes &
two cities &
one little fox.

so much laughter &
a few tears &
insane amounts of love.

learning &
growing &
traveling.

new experiences &
so many memories.

old dreams &
new dreams &
adventures.

you &
me.

12.29.12.
my favorite day.

On December 23, 2011...

I knew oh-so-little about the adventures the next three years would bring.

It's still the best yes I've ever said.

I Love Christmas & I Love Love.

Five Christmases ago, I spent December 22nd panicking about what to get Christopher for Christmas. What do you get someone you've only been dating for six months but are also pretty sure you're in love with? I turned to my dad, who is the gift guru:

"You can't go wrong with sentimental. Pictures, a scrapbook, something like that." 
"Um, is six months too soon for a scrapbook?" 
"Nope. He'll love it." 
"Mmm, is it going to scare him away if I literally hand him a book of our relationship and he gets me movie tickets?" 
"Chelsea, stop talking and make a scrapbook." 

So I did. And it is to this day one of my most treasured belongings, because we have the earliest moments of our relationship recorded, and I have the sweet memory of being terrified to give it to him on December 23rd, when we celebrated Christmas together.

Four Christmases ago, I was absolutely in love, but there was no ring on my finger. There were no plans, only dreams in my heart. I made up a scavenger hunt and we spent December 23rd driving around our hometown, taking pictures and exchanging gifts and kisses.

Three Christmases ago, December 23rd brought me the best surprise of my life in the form of Christopher down on one knee and a promise of forever. Each time I opened a gift on Christmas morning, seeing the shiny diamond on my ring finger overwhelmed me with happiness and thankfulness.

Two Christmases ago, I was a little preoccupied, because I was getting married four days later. We had decreed it would be a day of no wedding talk so that everyone could really enjoy Christmas, but my mom and I exchanged glances all day.."Oh, you KNOW what's coming." 

Last Christmas, I had one of the best days of my life. For the first time, I woke up on Christmas morning in the same bed as the love of my life. Opening presents and snuggling with our tiny little fox, and then visiting my family with my new little family...my heart had never been so full.

This Christmas, my heart is even more full than it was last year. Every Christmas song I hear, every peppermint mocha I drink, every time I plug our tree in, I'm overwhelmed with thankfulness that this is my life. The good and the bad, the sweet and the hard, it's mine. And as I celebrate this year, in a tiny apartment in the sky, with my best friend and our tiny little fox, I'm so full of joy. "Um, I think that I might love you" five Christmases ago has brought me such an incredibly full life, and Christmas just serves as a reminder of that.

I adore Christmas. Everything about it. But I especially adore who I get to spend it with.

Does Christmastime make you sentimental?