Tag Archives: wedding anniversary

Five years down, eternity to go

As I sit here typing this, it’s my five-year wedding anniversary. Added bonus, this year also marks ten years since my husband and I first met.

I know, I know. So what am I doing writing and working on this oh-so-special day? But as I said, it’s been ten years. Using your anniversary to stare all googly-eyed at your significant other while you drink champagne and eat strawberries in bed is for new couples who haven’t yet had the experience of sharing a tiny bathroom while you both have the flu.

But still, this day is a pretty big deal, despite the horrible things that went down in that bathroom that we can never un-see. I mean, even after all these years, my husband is still my best friend. And I’ve only had two fantasies, three tops, of dropping a giant anvil on his head, Wile E. Coyote-style.

In all honesty, though, I love that man with all my…ugh, hang on a sec…what’s that, babe? … Babe? … RYAN! … What did you say? Are you talking to me or the dog? … Oh my god, if you’re talking to me, I can’t hear you. … Still can’t hear you. … Why the hell are you mumbling? … I don’t know, look in the junk drawer. … THE JUNK DRAWER. … Did you find it? … I said DID YOU FIND IT? … I can’t. … CAUSE I’M BUSY, DAMMIT. … I’m writing about how much we love each other. … I SAID HOW MUCH WE LOVE EACH OTHER, GRANDPA! Son of a …

Anyway, as I was saying, I still love that man as much, if not more, than I did on our wedding day. Which, trust me, is a lot considering the beer was flowing like wine at our reception and Momma was a VERY happy girl that day.

And now that we have a baby, we’re closer than ever. A child truly is the ultimate manifestation of love between two people and …ah, hang on…Riker, honey, Mommy can’t play with you right now. She’s writing about what an awesome wife and mother she is. Here, go play with Daddy’s cell phone. Just don’t throw…and you threw it down the stairs. Awesome.

Anyway, starting a family allowed us both to see each other in a new light. And while that new light isn’t always flattering (I haven’t plucked my eyebrows since November), there is this beautiful sense that you have created something that is not only bigger than you, but bigger than the both of you. And that bigger something is full of joy and love and yes, a bit of chaos, but chaos isn’t always a bad thing. Because, as the old saying goes…Oh, come on! What now? … Seriously, dude, you need to speak up. … No, I have no idea where your cell phone is. Now, can I finish this, please? For the love of …

ANYWAY, as I was saying, marriage is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. Wait, is that the saying? Well, it doesn’t matter. It still fits. I remember all the nights we sat around drinking wine, making elaborate plans those first few years. The things we would do. The places we would go. The shiny, shiny things we would buy because hey, it’s not like we’ll be poor forever.

And even though hey, we are going to be poor forever because kids need a lot of stupid, expensive crap, and even though I still haven’t been tapped to replace Tina Fey on SNL and he hasn’t yet turned into Batman, and even though our last vacation was to exotic Costco, what did happen was a decade of a very happy life together (minus one flu-ridden weekend that still gives us daymares).

You know, when it comes down to it, it really is the simple things in life that make it …I swear to all that is holy, if you two keep bugging me while I’m trying to write this, I will throw away both of y’alls toys and comic books, got me? Do not test me. And stop all that screaming. I’m almost done. Just give me a few more minutes.

Ugh.

Anyway…I don’t know. Marriage is great and junk. Blah, blah, blah. You get the gist. Now, if you’ll excuse me, one and/or possibly both of my beloveds is bleeding and it appears the dining room table is on fire.

P.S. While I’ve been busy making fun of my husband to collect some cheap laughs, he cleaned the entire house, arranged for a babysitter so we can go out tonight and took care of our fearless and highly mobile son (all while actually leaving me alone so I could write this). I know. I don’t think I deserve him either. Thanks for putting up with me all these years, Ryan. I love you.

Just another boring old married couple

For those of you in the office pool who picked “divorced within two years,” prepare to kiss your money good-bye. The end of this month will mark the second anniversary of when I suckered my husband into being permanently stuck with me.

Naturally, to mark such a milestone, we are planning to go all out with our celebration:

Me: “So, what do you want to do for our anniversary next weekend?”

Him: “Um…I don’t know. Hey, is ‘The Simpsons’ on tonight?”

Me: “I think so. Oh! Let’s order Chinese food and watch it.”

Obviously, we don’t have all the details worked out yet. But in our defense, we were so busy this past weekend lounging around the house in elastic band pants and slippers and making chili that was approximately 2,500 calories per bite that it left little time to make anniversary plans.

Now, to the untrained eye, it may seem like in only two short years I have turned into a boring, old married person. But personally, I think marriage has gotten a bad rap as being “boring.”

There are approximately 113,877 movies and TV shows out there that at one point all have some scene where a girl turns to a boy and says “I don’t ever want to be one of those boring, old married couples sitting in silence at dinner.” Those same movies and TV shows then portray married couples as being composed of a shrill, exhausted wife constantly nagging her weary, dead-eyed husband who keeps making sarcastic quips about “I don’t have an opinion anymore; my wife tells me what to think” to his single buddies.

And it’s thanks to these portrayals that people too often confuse “boring” with “comfortable.” See, while I’ll agree marriage isn’t one big giant non-stop action train, isn’t that also the point? I didn’t get married to have it resemble dating. Dating sucks. The constant fart supression alone is exhausting, let alone all the other stuff. If he doesn’t call within three days, should I call him? Or perhaps text? Maybe poke him on Facebook? Does he like me? Is my breath OK? Is he seeing anyone else? Just who is that girl with the horse teeth that wrote a happy birthday message on his Twitter feed? When I take off my Spanx, water bra, fake eyelashes, four-inch stilettos, hair extensions and seven-layers of makeup, will he be disappointed?

And that’s not to say my husband and I don’t go out on dates. We do. We’ll get all dressed up and go someplace nice. And then you know what I get to do after a date with my husband?

Anything I want.

I can keep the sexy times going once we are back home or put on my sweatpants immediately and share a roll of Tums with him on the couch because that foie gras is not sitting well in either of our stomachs.

And as for that boring married couple you see at dinner sitting in silence? Who said silence has to be a bad thing? Comfortable silences are one of the most rare commodities on earth. You ever hang out with someone you can’t have a comfortable silence with? It’s horrible. Both of you struggling to fill the pause in conversation until the awkwardness makes you both want to stab yourself in the eye with a soup spoon. That’s why weather was invented. Simply so we would have something to fill those uncomfortable silences with.

And that’s why they call it “settling down with someone,” not “let’s keep this emotionally-draining roller coaster going permanently.”

So, to my beloved husband, I’d just like to say happy anniversary, baby. I love you. And thanks for at least attempting to hide your laughter at my farts after that whole foie gras incident.