I knew early on that I would marry Josh because I knew he was the father of my children. I just knew. Other things confirmed it – we fought like cats and dogs, laughed alot, enjoyed doing absolutely nothing together and were completely different yet totally the same.
This is us on our wedding day (do the outfits give it away?)
Us on our honeymoon in Vietnam (this is in Sapa) where we drank alot and I’m pretty sure I consumed my own body weight in bean curd. It was a mistake to be away for Christmas (it sounds like a good idea but really it’s just depressing). A very big mistake. But we made a good travelling team and I believe we would totally kick ass if we were ever on the amazing race. He practiced his crisis management skills when the high altitude in Sapa made me sick because of my anaemia. And I practiced my haggling skills (I’ll never be any good at it). Despite stricter airline security post 2001 I forgot I had a nail file in my pocket and had it all the way from Sydney to Hanoi. As I always suspected ‘increased security’ is more about perception than anything else.
This is him in the hospital (he fell in love instantly). He was so psyched to have a girl. While I was pregnant he refused to even entertain the idea that we might have a boy. He always said he wanted all girls because he believes that they would be more dependent on him for longer. Poor deluded soul. I think he’d be ok if we had a boy next time though.
This is him taking a nap with her (still in the hospital). There were times when he was sleeping and I was up with Riley in the early newborn stage where I seriously considered hitting him over the head with a frying pan. I had sleep envy. Some nights I slept on the couch – just in case my tiredness, hormones and envy converged into a non-sensical violent outburst.
Now he spends more time reading to her than the sports section of the newspaper. I think he enjoys the toddler stage alot more than the newborn blob stage. He’s reading her this book because she likes it even though as an agnostic he feels that it has religious undertones that he’s not entirely comfortable with.
He is the one who has come up with the vast majority of her nicknames: “the moosh”/”mooshie”; “frue”, “googie bear” (you get the idea). I think I may have added “the shmoo” and “pookie bear”. We are really not as hideously cutey as that list sounds.