Jason and I got tattoos yesterday. Match-y ones. Romantic, mushy, sentimental ones.
Aren't we cute when we think we're still kinda cool and not just super lame and old?
This is a Celtic symbol for new beginnings. Which I guess is kind of funny, since we've been together for so long, and plan to be together for much, much longer. We're not starting anything "over," we're not overcoming a rough patch or anything dramatic like that.
This is more about What's Next.
We're done having babies and our family is complete. It took us awhile to really feel at peace with that choice, but once we embraced it, the What's Next took a clearer shape. And so far, it's awesome.
We're done making excuses as to why we can't eat right/lose weight/get healthy. We're done taking each other for granted in that sneaky, benign way that creeps up on you when you stop paying attention. We're done just being Mom and Dad, sitting on the couch watching TV while discussing the grocery list.
We're still Amy and Jason. We're still up for new things, new adventures. And goddamn, we're still so stupid in love with each other. We've had the best year of our marriage together (which is saying something, because there have been 16 of them so far and the vast majority of them have been good ones), and it just feels...great. Like something you want to shout from the rooftops. Or on your blog. (But then of course you get people who assume you doth protest too much and start the countown to the divorce announcement post.) Or in this case, on your skin.
(Apologies for the detour into extreme sappiness. Tattoos aside, I'm clearly not much of a badass.)