Of carnivals, fireworks, and dancing on the sidewalk.

If you happen to be in Atchison, Kansas on the third weekend in July you will notice that something is going on in our little town. For the last eighteen years, The Amelia Earhart Festival has been celebrated here. Amelia Earhart was born in Atchison on July 24th and for the past eighteen years, they've celebrated her birth with a giant festival, including arts, crafts, foods, a carnival, a huge concert, a fireworks show, and even a piece of birthday cake if you time it just right.

 Sophie riding a carnival ride.

 

 You can't see her, but that's Ila up there in that crazy thing. 

 I may have lost three years of my life when Connor said he wanted to ride The Zipper at the carnival. 

Our awesome view for the fireworks. 

 Elinor dancing to the music. 

 Sophia doing some dancing too. 

 My oldest and my youngest babies. 

 Sophia making sure she gets another picture. 

Connor spent a long time chipping a fossil off of this rock. He ended up getting it!

 And we couldn't resist a little of our own carnival fare. 

 Connor was able to meet the governor as he meandered through the crowd. 

In the end, only Connor and I made it through to the firework show as the girls were just not up for the long night. Maybe next year. 

It was a great weekend to wrap up a great week spent with Lynne and Ila. The show, was as always, wonderful. 

Eleven.

Warning: This post contains lovey doveyness which I usually snark at. Seriously.

On Saturday, Ben and I will have been married for eleven years. It is hard to believe that we've been married that long since it feels more like a minute or sometimes eleven million years.

We aren't very fancy, so there won't be flowers on Saturday, and probably not even dinner out. (We had to visit an oral surgeon for Connor this last week and it turns out that you have to pay some big time money to just be in his glorious presence. You don't even want to know how much it costs to let him look into your mouth.)

Maybe I'll make him a special dinner for the two of us to eat after the kids go to bed. That could be kind of nice, right? Or maybe well just stay up late and eat chips with guacamole and watch Jim Gaffigan or Arrested Development. That may be more our speed.

The great thing is that even if I don't make a special dinner, or don't have any special plans for him, Ben will tell me thatI'm the best wife ever, and that he'd marry me all over again. And, even if we don't go out for dinner, and there aren't flowers, I'll tell him that he's my absolute favorite person, and that I'd marry him again tomorrow.

And we'll both mean it. We love being married - and more importantly, we love being married to each other.

We've accomplished a lot in our eleven years. We've moved six times, given birth to four beautiful children, have mourned the loss of four children in the womb, watched Ben get his masters degree and become a pastor, and watched me transition into being a stay at home mom.

We've cried, been frustrated together or at each other, fought, said we were sorry even when we weren't, fought some more, and then said we were sorry again when we actually meant it.

We've perfected the art of belting out a Journey song on the radio, discovered our mutual love of singing "You can't always get what you want" to our children when they are complaining, and can often be found laughing so hard that we are nearly brought to tears.

We are two hopelessly flawed, stubborn, sarcastic, cynical people that through a whole lotta patience, some major crying (me), and tons of forgiveness have been able to make this marriage a joy.

Here is to eleven amazing years and many many more. There's no one I'd rather by sojourning in this place with than you, Ben.