Building a new business isn't for the faint of heart. Let's start there. It's difficult. It's fighting past rejection, shrugging off discouragement, smiling through doubt, and pressing on when you're wore slap out. (Is that how the saying goes?) Anyway, we are no strangers to all of the above. We are in our early 30's, 4 kids, a 3/4 finished house, and we are starting a new branch of our existing business. Hello full-time life! Our new branch is called, The BoxKit. He is our inanimate son, made of wood, invented by Josh. And quite like Josh, The BoxKit believes in going forth and multiplying, and alas, we have a whole line of BoxKits. Daddy, Junior, & Mini, (although we never call the The BoxKit, Daddy, to his face. He prefers, The BoxKit. I have a thing for nicknames. We make it work.) They are a family of 3, but not without frills. They have accessories. They are the start of something, and they aren't afraid. Who could blame them, really? What with Josh building them and all. His hands have a way of keeping fear at bay. They're strong, steady, building kind of hands. Safe hands.
Anyway, we had big plans for our 10-year anniversary. Nothing concrete, really, only pipe dreams. But we had every intention of being long-gone, sleeping in a hammock built for 2, on some remote island somewhere, listening to Pandora play the story of our lives via Brad Paisley come June 22, 2012. And then life happened. Claire happened. And then her sister, Avery happened. And a few years after that, Avery became a big sister to Josh's mini-me, Noelle, and then Jesus said he had one more for us, so then Joel happened. And our Trask party of 2, became the Trask circus of 6 just like that. We are a happening family!
So this year's big shebang of an anniversary celebration never happened. Well, not in the tropical sense anyway. We've never had (4) kids and this much going on in our lives, ever. June 22nd came fast, and that secret pile of vacation money vanished somehow, much to my dismay.
Our sweet day started like most others, only we woke up more tired than usual thanks to #3. Noelle decided to celebrate the longest day of the year (June 21 - the first day of summer) with a pretty raging party into the wee hours of the morning, which for the most part is quite uncharacteristic of her, but she's a Trask, so, Go Big or Go Home. She went Big. At Home. Her daddy and I considered making a run for it, but we were too tired to try (wink, wink). Instead we situated her between us in our bed where she quickly proceeded to study us, poke, prod, elbow, pat and quietly aggravate us for a steady 2 hours. We had no choice but to evict her from the premises, and escort her back to her own bed. She cried. I hated it for her. I hated it for us.
The morning of, no big deal. A groggy, Happy Anniversary, and we were up and at 'em. Business as usual. We considered skipping out on celebrating at all on the actual day of our anniversary because for the life of us we couldn't make it work. We were unprepared on all fronts. Even Google found me wanting. Speaking of, Google should be ashamed for coming up short on such an important date. 100's of inquiries prior to the big day, and nothing. (Okay, it wasn't Google's fault, but I need something to blame, so, tough luck Google.) And then 10am showed up, looking sneaky, sort of taunting me, daring me to try again, insisting that I reconcile with Google and repent for my pitiful disposition. I caved. I grabbed the iPad, said sorry to Google and made things happen. I quickly formed a plan, okay'd it with Josh, found somewhere for the big girls to be, hired someone to look after #3, loaded up #4 to serve as chaperone, and we were off. It was an "it takes a village to raise a child" kind of day, but the village came together and we had ourselves a little date...with our 5 month old.
A fun walk through historic Old Salem, touring buildings from the 18th century, Krispy Kreme donuts, and Chipotle, and that's how we celebrated our big 1-0. The craziest thing we did - we ate donuts before dinner.
Here's the thing. Josh was wrong. I'm not still waiting. I'm living. I'm building a life for all time with my very best friend. He builds houses and drums, and together we build character in smaller versions of ourselves. Not only that, but we're building a marriage marked with perseverance, strong love and commitment. We live a life that's currently saturated with deep, thought-provoking talks with 7 & 8 year olds, poopy diapers, sippy cups of milk, microwaved lunches, lots of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, and occasionally cereal for dinner. This is where we are. I can't tell you what's trending on yahoo at the moment, or who the Hollywood "it" couple is, and quite frankly I find it excruciating to discuss politics because I honestly have very little knowledge of what's really going on in the world. Don't get me started on fashion either. I.have.no.idea. BUT, I can tell you who got writing awards on PTO night, who's little feet are click-clacking in high heels too big for her as she makes her way down the hallway, and who's doing what at any moment, anywhere in our house. I know without much investigating who instigated the fight, who's telling the truth, who's stressed out, who pooped, and who needs some attention. I can also tell you who hung the moon, settles my heart and sends me swooning at the very sight of him. My Trask's are all I know at the moment. They captivate me and preoccupy me. The tropics can wait for me. I'm not waiting for them. They will come when I'm good and ready to go, and probably not a second sooner. I will go. With my husband. And we will sleep in a hammock without a care in the world. It will happen.
In the meantime, I will savor long talks with my husband at lunch, movies at bedtime, making fun of our kids behind their backs, and brainstorming about our future. To quote Nacho Libre, "My life is good...reeaaally good." Happy Anniversary to the best, most loving, hardest working, most affectionate daddy and husband in the world. He's everything that's anything to me. He's an inventor with an adventurers spirit. His perseverance is awe-inspiring. He's carried our family on his shoulders for 10 years. My dad once said about Josh, "He's strong for a little sucker." (They were moving a heavy couch at the time.) And I agree.
We will arrive. We have arrived. We are arriving. There's no waiting. Only new days to celebrate new things. And old things. And everything in between things. Ten's a big deal for sure, but it's not as much about standing still to mark a day with an island getaway as it is about being sure that this day will come again and again for the rest of our lives, punctuated with lots of tropical vacations scattered everywhere along the way. June 22nd is only special because it reminds us where we've been and where we're headed, and what we've promised. Here's to the rest of my life with Josh Trask. Cheers!
