Dear Max,

Right now you are vacuuming the living room. How cool is THAT? I’m quite appreciative of the little things you do to help me around our busy home.

I have to admit that I was shocked when I read your first blog post. It wasn’t what I was expecting, and it’s taken me some time to gather my thoughts and write you back. Are we really going to do this? Write to one another for all to see? We have never written letters back and forth, maybe it’s time. I suppose I was most taken aback because of your adverse feeling toward social media in general. I practically forced you to sign up for Facebook (and now you may be addicted….like everyone else), I took your phone and created a Words With Friends account without telling you so that we could play…but you’re officially a Twitter holdout. Someday my friend, someday.

Life is crazy, more crazy than is typical of us. It’s the way it should be though, and you’ve consistently surprised me with your unwavering devotion to this process (the process of being married to a woman who has a crazy family). I suppose we can wait on having that third baby, but if you change your mind, let me know.

On Friday night, we had a date-thing. You dropped the kiddos off at Auntie Noelle’s house and then came back to pick me up. You rang the doorbell, and waited on the porch (in your preppy black pants, sweater vest and Ray bans) until I invited you in. It was kinda sexy. I asked you if you’d like a drink (Pinot Noir of course) , and you watched baseball until I was ready to go. It was like a “real” date. We should definitely do that more often…..so if any of you are reading this and thinking, “aww that’s so sweet!”, email me….we need babysitters.

I wanted to mention that you took some ah-ma-zing shots at Danielle and Derek’s wedding. Like, I was jealous that I didn’t come up with them! (I know how competitive you are, so I dare you to get better than me….I double dog dare you). It was awesome to sit under a soft Palm Springs sky and enjoy a yummy meal with you in between the furious pace of that wedding. I don’t know what I would do without you as my second shooter (and Hubby, of course).  I’ve come to depend on you, to trust you in very intense moments. There is no one that could take your place.

Love, Poppy

PS I found your stash. Do us both a favor and stash the good stuff. Crappy chocolate never does the job.