Graduation

It's been a long road.  

Josh started studying for his CFA designation shortly after we got married, and began his Master's program at UCI when Avery was only 3 months old.  It seems like I have never had a "full-time" husband in the seven years we have been married!  So yesterday when he received his diploma, I couldn't have been more proud of him.  It felt like everything has paid off, and it's finally over. I'm ready for life to be a little easier now, and I think he is too! (Although I don't think he will know what to do with himself now that he doesn't have case studies to read, papers to write, or study group meetings to attend).

The ceremony was almost 2 hours long, so for those of you who didn't watch it live on the web, I condensed it down for you to the most important part (you're welcome):

VIDEO: JOSH GETTING HIS DIPLOMA

Josh is circled in red below:

These guys were there to support their buddy who was receiving his Bachelor's Degree. 

I loved their signs and I asked them if they wouldn't mind taking a picture with "my" Josh:

I think for most people, it's a sheet of paper, or a stepping stone to the next big thing. And in the past, I have felt the same way about graduations. But yesterday, for some reason it was different. It was about a committed, hardworking 35-year-old dad wanting to do the best he can for his family, seeing things through from start to finish, and about two people supporting each other through thick and thin. Even though it wasn't my own graduation, in a way I felt that it was, just a tiny little part of something I earned too.  I thought back on all the nights I came home alone after work, dragged a newborn baby up the stairs in a carseat, and rocked her in a bouncy seat with my foot while I cooked dinner or pumped breastmilk. All the nights I spent hunched over the bathtub, trying to bathe Avery while combating morning sickness when Josh was at class.  And of course the times that we made fun memories or had family events that Josh had to miss out on because of meetings, homework, or class trips. What I'm trying to say is that I think I cried harder than anyone else in the Bren Center. I assume that when my own kids graduate, they will probably have to remove their hysterical mother from the premises.