Crista Acosta Photography »

I had seen him around the halls of my office and thought he was cute, but it wasn’t until a night out with a few girlfriends that I had the nerve to introduce myself to him.  We hit it off right away, but I was in a weird place in life.  I was just barely 20 years old, and had just gotten out of a pretty awful relationship.  I wanted to party it up and be single and free.  I gave him my number, not expecting him to call – but he did.  I tried to brush him off and made up lame excuse after lame excuse as to why I couldn’t go out with him.  It wasn’t that I was disinterested, it was that I knew from our first conversation that he was going to be something real – someone who made me stop and care, and I wasn’t ready for that.

One day at work, I had just finished my lunch and stepped into the elevator headed back to my desk.  Like a scene from a Meg Ryan movie, as the elevator door started to close, a hand jutted in at the last second.  It was him.  Just the two of us in the elevator, alone.  ”So, what are you doing tonight?” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he anticipated my next quick witted lie.  My hands started to sweat, and I could feel the blood rushing to my face.  You see, I can tell a tale or two via email, maybe even stretch the truth over the phone, but face to face – forget it.  I wear it on my sleeve.  Before I could even think it through, my mouth blurted out “I, um, I’m having a party tonight – you can come if you want” I offered.  It was a Tuesday, and I was not having a party.  It was just that I lived a good 45 minutes away from him, and I was completely expecting him to turn me down given that it was a work night and all.  ”That sounds great, I’ll meet you here after work” he responded.  Crap, crap, crap.

As I drove home from work that day, I called everyone I knew to try to beg and con them into coming to my fictitious party.  There were five of us there – including C, myself, and my 16 year old brother.  Rock on!  Funny thing about that night though, it further solidified what I had thought that very first night I met him.  There was something about this guy – something amazing, and real, and kind, and all of that scared the heck out of me.

Despite the fact that we had a great time the night of my “party”, I continued to play the game for a few more weeks.  I just wasn’t ready, until one night I was headed out with a girlfriend and called him on a whim to see if he might want to meet us out.  He did, and again – we had a blast together.  The next day a few of us were headed to the beach, and I asked him if he wanted to come.  C agreed and as we parted ways that night, I promised to call him in the morning.  Imagine my surprise when I called him so that we could figure out where to meet up and he was all “my car battery is dead”.  I hung up the phone frustrated and disappointed.

After all that persistence, when I was finally letting my guard down he seemed to have changed his mind.  As I relayed the story to my friend, she insisted I call him back and offer to come pick him up.  ”But Nik – what if he is totally lying about it?” and she looked me square in the eye and said “how are you ever going to know if you don’t ask?”.  So I picked up the phone and called his house with shaky hands.  When he answered I said “sooo…. I was thinking, maybe we could come get you?” with a nervous break in my voice.  ”That sounds great, I’ll give you directions” he answered.

So off we went with a bunch of friends to the beach.  That was a Saturday morning.  We had so much fun that day that we decided to stay as a group, buying clothes and food along the way, ignoring the outside world and our responsibilities and didn’t come home until Wednesday.

That Saturday was ten years ago, today.

One Decade.  A third of my life.  It’s amazing how quickly it has gone by.  It’s even more amazing now that I know what I know about the two of us, that we stand here today.  C and I weren’t meant to be together – neither of us had any business getting into a serious relationship at that point in our life.  But, there was something… something that kept drawing us back.  In our earlier years, we tried to part ways more than once.  We convinced ourselves it would just be easier, because you see, we aren’t an “easy” couple.  We take work every.single.day.  We just believe it will be a little less work tomorrow than it was today.

His closet is clothes arranged on wooden hangers organized by season and (loosely) by color.  Mine is a tornado, plain and simple.  He’s the one who pushes me when I’m trying to give up, he’s persistent.  I’m fly by the seat of my pants – see where the road leads.  He plans everything.  I make lists in my head because when I actually take the time to write things down, nine times out of ten I forget it in the car (or on the counter, or I don’t remember it’s in my pocket until I’ve left the store missing key items).  He rarely forgets anything.  I can ride for hours in the car quietly, not even realizing that there isn’t any music.  I always know he’s home because I can hear his radio as he pulls into the driveway.

Despite all of our differences and even after ten years, there is still that something though.  Something that is so much stronger than either of us.  It’s in the way on a sunny day we’ll be playing outside with the kids and we catch each other’s eye with a little smile that lets the other person know – this is always the life I wanted.  It’s the something that held us together on our darkest days when we literally clung to each other and cried and just prayed we’d get it right tomorrow.  It’s the way when we slip into the sheets at night, my cold feet find his legs for warmth and he never ever complains.  It’s how my head fits perfectly into the spot in the crook of his arm when we snuggle on the couch.  It’s the something that makes my heart swell when I watch him with his children, the something that made me certain that the day I married him was the beginning of my life.

It’s how after ten years, I’m more in love with that man than I’ve ever been.  How ten years later, he is my partner and best friend in every sense of the word.  I love you, C.

Ten years down, forever and always to go.

It’s so rare that I get a picture of my two munchkins together, and even more rare that I’m in that picture.  So the other day when C picked up my camera and snapped these of our afternoon just hanging out, I couldn’t have been more grateful.  I love watching the way that the boys interact, the way that L.A. is so excited to see his brother and says with excitement “Beebee!!”.  I love watching P2’s face light up – I swear it just glows – when his brother comes within his eyesight.  I love love love these pictures.  They aren’t technically perfect in any way, but they are amazing.  They are love.

Kristin and I have known each other for a very long time, and when she contacted me to do her engagement pictures, I was beyond excited!  Kristin and David were amazing to work with, and up for anything, despite the fact that we all got attacked by killer mosquitos.  Brace yourself for the biggest share ever… I looooove these pictures!!  A huge thanks to Christa for coming along on this shoot and lending her awesome skills!

Ackk…. okay, I’ll stop now, because I could seriously post a ton more images from this session.  Kristin and David, congratulations!!

As we embark on this week of lasts while gearing up for a lifetime of firsts, I’ve found myself reading this poem over and over again, and finding comfort in the author’s words.  

LOVING TWO

I walk along holding your almost 2-year-old hand, basking in the glow of our magical relationship.
Suddenly I feel a kick from within, as if to remind me that our time alone is limited.
And I wonder, how could I love another child as I love you?

Then she is born, and I watch you.
I watch as the pain you feel at having to share me as you have never shared me before.

I hear you telling me in your own way, “Please love only me” and I hear myself telling you in mine “I can’t”.
Knowing in fact that I never can again.
You cry, I cry with you.
I almost see our baby as an intruder on the precious relationship we once shared. 
A relationship we can never have again.

But then, barely noticing, I find myself attached to that new being, and feeling almost guilty.
I’m afraid to let you see me enjoying her — as though I am betraying you.
But then I notice your resentment change, first to curiosity, then to protectiveness, finally to genuine affection.

More days pass, and we are settling into a new routine.
The memory of days with just the two of us is fading fast.
But something is replacing those wonderful times we shared, just us two.
There are new times — only now we are three.
I watch the love between you grow, the way you look at each other, touch each other.

I watch how she adores you, as I have for so long.
I see how excited you are by each of her new accomplishments.
I begin to realize that I haven’t taken something from you, I’ve given something to you.
I notice that I am no longer afraid to share my love openly with both of you.
I find that my love for each of you is as different as you are, but equally strong.
And my question is finally answered to my amazement.
Yes, I can love another child as much as I love you, only differently.

And although I realize that you may have to share my time, I know you’ll never share my love.
There’s enough of that for both of you — you each have your own supply.

I love you both and I thank you both for blessing my life.

—Author Unknown

There was a time when I would stare at L.A.’s sleepy little face, and dream of the day when I would know how he really felt about us.  I could tell early on that he trusted us, and I trusted that he loved us…. but there is nothing quite like the day when your toddler comes flying across the room to you arms outstretched and grabs onto your leg with a bear cub grip for the sole purpose of planting a big sloppy kiss on your pant leg before running off to continue playing. 

There’s nothing quite like looking into your child’s eyes and seeing the twinkle, the sparkle of love that lives there and lights up when they see you… or even better yet, when they see your spouse.  

How the heck did I get so lucky?

In general, L.A. is a pretty relaxed, easy going little dude and I thought we’d totally lucked out and sailed through without hitting the separation anxiety phase.  Wrong.  So, so wrong.  In the past week or so, his mom clinginess has increased and I attributed it to the molars that have been working their way in and making our lives miserable.  We’re now at the level of complete emotional breakdown if I walk out of his line of sight.  I’m talking tears, choking-can’t catch your breath-sobbing if I dare to use the restroom or try to retrieve something from another room. 

I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge the fact that I typically love his attachment to me.  There’s something so sweet about those big eyes that are always searching for me, for reassurance.  This, however – is a little overboard.  Any been there-done that-moms want to give me some insight as to how long this phase might last?

In other family news, both C and L.A. woke up this morning with coughs and scratchy throats.  Awesome.  All the wives out there, go ahead and give a sympathetic nod of the head… you know which one of my boys will need more attention this weekend.    I love you C!

In the midst of the chaos I’ve been complaining about, I’m trying to take comfort and solace in the small, fleeting moments.  This morning as C and I were getting ready for work, L.A. was standing in his crib dancing back and forth as he does most mornings.  I glanced into his room as I passed and saw his giant smile as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other joyfully.  I couldn’t help but go in and kiss him good morning. 

As I approached his crib, he reached out his hand and started rubbing my belly, something he’s been doing the past few days.  He looked up at me and smiled and said “Mama?” and I nodded my head and said “there’s a baby in Mama’s belly”. 

In a moment I hadn’t anticipated, he reached his little arms around my waist and gave my belly a hug while resting his head gently there.  Before backing up completely, he planted a nice sloppy kiss on my belly and then looked up at me with his sweet smiling face. 

My life may be crazy at the moment, but it sure is better than any life I could have dreamt. 

I had a bad day today.  It was all job related (my 9-5), but it was the kind of day that makes you want to hide under your desk and just wish it all away.  I went to pick up L.A. knowing that he would brighten my afternoon, only to have him throw a temper tantrum upon my arrival because he was having far too much fun playing to be bothered with going home.  Didn’t do much for the ego.  Came home, looked around and realized I could stand to put a little extra effort in around the house too.  

Dinner didn’t seem to cook fast enough, and L.A. was ready for bed.  Finally, we went upstairs and decided to forego bath time since we were so behind schedule.  He fought me all the way through getting changed, and I spilled milk all over my shirt making his bottle.  

Eventually, I sat him in my lap in the rocking chair and nuzzled down against his head as I pulled out the Belly Button Book (a new fave of both of ours).  As I turned the first page and breathed in the first bit of relaxation of the day, I felt a small little kick in my belly.  It’s been worrying me that I’ve only felt P2 moving a little here and there, and I stopped for a second not sure if I imagined it.  As I opened my mouth to start reading again, I felt another little kick.  

Once again, just when I need it, someone upstairs points out what’s really important.