Two weeks from tomorrow I'm getting married.

It feels so crazy! To change my name from the one I've had for many years. To call Matt my husband instead of boyfriend or fiance. To be called a wife.

But really, it's about one thing: love. The party will be fun, but is not the point. I'm excited about telling the world that he is mine, and I am his. I want to continue to daydream about our future together. I want to see him standng at the end of the aisle I'll walk, waiting to hold my hand and tell me he'll love me forever. I want to grow old with him, travel the world with him, spend the rest of my weeknights on the couch watching tv with him.

I feel incredibly blessed to have a man that treats me as exceptionally well as he does. To be so giving and supportive and affectionate as he is.  To be as kind to my children as he is.

I must have done some things right. To be as happy as I am right now, with a loving man about to marry me, with friends and family so supportive of me, and with children as beautiful and healthy and loving as mine are.

Dear God, I am one lucky lady.


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