Ten years

Back to School makes me all sorts of nostalgic. Like how fun it was to back to school shop with my mom.  Not nearly as fun with my own kids.  When my mom took me she bought ME clothes, that didn't cost ME money, now I have to spend MY money on my kids, instead of ME. I've been even more reminiscence this year. When the high school seniors at our church became college freshman, it was .... I don't know the adjective. We have now lived in this house for two and half years, that is almost a year longer than anywhere else.  That means I've seen babies who I'm not related to grow up, I've never experienced watching my friends' babies go from infants, to two and half year olds!  That means the kids that went off to college were only 15 or 16 when we moved in, some didn't drive yet.  My own child was getting ready for kindergarten when we came and now we are getting him prepped for his baptism.

 Anyway so my nostalgia.  Ten years ago the week before Labor day I met my husband.  Neither of us remember meeting each other first the time, so needless to say it was not love at first sight.  I know by Labor Day I had already met him, because we talked at a Labor Day BBQ like we knew each other, but beyond that????  I remember the Bishop introducing us at some point on a sunday, but I also remember thinking, I've already met this boy.  Yes, we are one of those LDS couples where our Single's Ward Bishop encouraged us to be friends.  (Cue: Matchmaker Matchmaker make me a match song.) Anyway, so the point of the post, all month long I've been nostalgic about realizing I've known my husband for a decade.  A decade was such a long time before I made it to college.  A decade!  Its reminded me of all sorts of memories.  Maybe I'll share them over the next year and half, until we've been married for 10 years.

In the past 10 years we have gone from two single kids, to two married adults, with almost four children, two cars, three degrees and mortgage, that includes a nice big yard.  How life can change in a decade. I truly was a kid when I met my husband.  In case you didn't make the inference, I was 18 when I met my husband, I had been moved out of my childhood home for a whole like 5 days.  Overall I find this terribly embarrassing to admit.  My husband was 21.  Needless to say, by the time I was 20, and we got married, everyone including most of our relatives thought we were very young to be getting married.  They were probably right, but sometimes I wonder if its easier to get married young.  I was dumb and only knew that I never wanted Brent to move away from me.  Ha, the jokes on him, I moved to this house two months before him.  This all being said, I knew I was in love with Brent and never wanted to him to ditch me, but it was an extremely hard decision to marry Brent.  I wrestled with it, for months, not the idea of being in love with him, the idea of being married.

But I'm so off topic.  We are suppose to be reminiscing about the foolish 18 year old me, who went to college, with every article of clothing she own, thinking it was hardly anything for a wardrobe, only to come to find out Utah girls did not need as much clothing as North Texan girls.  My closet door was broken off for the first month of school, and everyone who came into my room said, wow you HAVE a lot of clothes.  Me the whole time wondering how anyone could get by with less.  Embarrassingly I now say I never once wore the same outfit to church the first semester of school. Luckily two of my roommates were California girls and were spoiled in similar ways. I still have and wear some of those clothes... Ah, to be an old married woman with many children so you have to wear clothes some of the same clothes for a decade. I guess I should be grateful, I am on my fourth pregnancy and can still fit into clothes I bought in High School.  I guess some clothes were a decent investment after all.