Ten years ago today my husband and I got into our car, drove to NYC, and got married. No friends, no relatives, no fanfare... and no regrets. We were not conventional then, and I guess we still aren't.
When I dug out the photographs of our wedding, taken by the janitor at the town hall, my first thought was how well rested we looked. I don't think I have had undisturbed sleep since five months after our wedding when I gave birth to our first son. And no, he was not an 8lb preemie, as much as my mother would have liked to pass him off as such.
The other night my husband asked me if I had been able to see into the future ten years ago would I still have married him. I laughed and said, "What, give up all this?" as I motioned around the room at the toys that were still strewn about, the mountain sized pile of laundry, the half done home improvement projects, and the unruly posse of children who were out of their beds for the hundredth time that night with their tales of woe.
And then I said, actually shouted over the din of the children, "I couldn't envision a happier, more fulfilling life"