Nine years in eight pictures.

omg who let these babies get married

I had written a post about our nine year anniversary that was trying to be all sentimental and introspective, and then I deleted it, mostly because sentimental and introspective don't suit me. I don't wear them well, like skinny jeans (but damn if I don't try).

Instead of that, I've decided to do a greatest hits post. Like when sitcoms have episodes where they play all the funniest parts of the show in rapid succession. It's overstimulating and makes you foam at the mouth a little. So submitted for your approval, some of my favorite moments of the past nine years. But mostly just things of which I happened to have pictures.

No beard?

Mitch is dressed as Elmo. He agreed to be Elmo at our friends' kid's birthday party. This was the moment I realized I could procreate with him, since he clearly has no standards. Maybe no dignity. He doesn't have Elmo hands, but rather regular gloves on, because the costume rental place lost them. Some kid at the party had an aneurysm upon seeing him, since her parents didn't believe in TV or something, so fun with Elmo ended early. This kid's parents also didn't believe in immunizations, climate change, or women learning math.

I think I spy some peach fuzz. Nope, wait, that's just some stray Old Bay.

One of our most favorite places on the planet is Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. My dad always curses me that I didn't marry a Lingo, the real estate mob family of the gayest beach in the First State. Mitch's favorite place in our favorite place is Lazy Susan's, a crab slaughterhouse with newspaper covered tables. Mitch happily massacres crustaceans while I, having been a vegetarian for most of our trips there, mourn the loss and judge the styrofoam plates and cups. I think this photo perfectly captures my sentiments. And my super cool hemp and seashell choker. I'm going to bring that shiz back.

Still no beard.

So we got this dog and named her after a TV show. She was kinda wimpy, so one day we were walking downtown, and stopped in one of those cute little overpriced doggie boutiques to buy her a sweater. I picked out that really snazzy one you see featured in this photo, put it on her, and took the tag to the counter to pay for it. SIXTY BUCKS. Mitch almost divorced me on the spot. But alas, it was already on the dog and out the door. Plus look at her. It makes her look so classy. Now we own neither the dog nor the sweater (custody has been transferred to my brother), but at least we have this really awesome photoshoot to help us remember it. We used shots from this as our Christmas card photo that year.

BEARD! This is apparently when Mitch stopped caring.

At some point during our marriage, I lost my mind a little. I was like, minutes from shaving my head and beating SUVs with an umbrella. I sold all our shit on craigslist and moved us across the country. During the trek, I made us dilly dally all over the Corn Belt and Tornado Alley, stopping at every national park and historical site we could find (This is some battlefield in Oklahoma. Or Texas. Not really sure). We're in a death match with some friends of ours to see who can get the most National Parks stamps in their passport book. I'm not really sure what the winner gets (a bunch of wasted vacations?). We agreed on the terms too long ago to remember. Anyway, we finally made it back east just in time to move in with my parents and run out of money. I like living on the edge.

Beard AND long hair. I think he's trying to get me to leave him. Not gonna work!

We went to Guatemala for our fifth anniversary. We almost died getting to our first hotel because we got abandoned at the airport, had to hire a shady cabbie who drove us to the beach and made us get in a creepy motorboat in the middle of the night, and then upon docking said motorboat had to get in the back of an unmarked van to drive the rest of the way. Had we died, we might have won Darwin Awards. The next morning, I clambered out from under the mosquito net to peer out the window at the beach, and started yelling at Mitch to get his lazy ass out of bed. There were sea turtles on the beach!!! He yelled back at me to put my glasses on. Sure enough, the majestic sea turtle was actually a trash bag full of horseshit. Later that day we saw a wild dog rolling all over our sea turtle.

He has totally given up.

Mitch had knee surgery. He was freaking out so much before the surgery that the nurse pumped him full of happy juice just to shut him up. Boys are such babies. Then I asked the surgeon if we could write a thank you letter to the family of the dead guy who gave Mitch his ACL, and the surgeon called security to have the dirty hippies removed from his office.

Maybe our baby has a beard.

And of course, the greatest hit of all. BAM. We made a baby. I know I skipped a bunch of stuff, like Portugal, raising chickens, vocal cord surgery, and putting together Ikea furniture, but the past nine years have been far more exciting because I found an amazing man who can grow an amazing beard. He lets me do stuff, and doesn't judge me for it. I'm a pretty lucky gal.