Despite a backlog of partially written posts, I'm going straight to this past Friday. Cuz I'm wild and crazy like that, that's why.
Friday was our fifth wedding anniversary, or what I consider our five year + five and a half anniversary. Just think, next year the number of years we'll be married will exceed the number of years we were together before all hell broke loose and he had to snap me up! Unlike previous years, when getting ready for our date or weekend away was fun and relaxing, this day was chaotic.
I got in the shower about 45 minutes before we were supposed to leave. As I was shaving up to there (okay, my knees, but let's just be glad I got to shave at all, 'kay?), I could hear the kids over the monitor in Madelyn's room. Specifically I could hear Fynn crying, Mad fussing and Corey, after 35 seconds of dealing with it, saying, "Mom, I know you're busy but I need you."
Sometimes I wish we had a 2-way speaker system. Sometimes it's good we do not.
Getting dressed, the girls ready and the car loaded with people and things took about an hour. The good news? I was able to wear pants I have only dared to try on since getting pregnant with Mad. And they have these stupid obnoxious "cute" little button details on the waist that I was finally able to tighten back up. My ass may still be fat and jiggly, but I'm making headway.
The major delay at the end was Mad's repeated refusal to use the potty even though she was doing the pee pee dance and didn't want a diaper for the long car ride down to Grandma's. After she finally went and tried to get away with three M & M's for her success, we got out of the house. It was a few minutes after we were supposed to be at my dad's.
I dropped Corey at Mom's and headed to Dad's ("Grandma's house," according to Mad). While carrying Fynn in the carrier, the diaper bag and Mad's jacket, and helping Mad, who had tripped, I managed to tweak my shoulder. The only thing that could have made things worse by then would have been hot, humid weather. Thankfully it was low 50's and I wasn't starting to glisten or smell like a rhino.
My dad and Margaret gave us our anniversary present. It was a card with a note saying that the gift for five years is wood, and wood comes from trees and paper is also made from trees, so it's wood. And they gave us an amount of money that was suspiciously similar to the loan they'd offered two nights before so we could be sure to buy Christmas presents for the kids. (What's that? I didn't tell you how my employer has now decided that they aren't paying half of my pay for the time I'm taking after my maternity leave ended? Or how they decided to take it all out of the only check I'll get between now and Christmas? Reader's Digest version is that, after I expressed to them quite clearly that they put the original plan in writing and that I've been having stress-induced palpitations as we try to prepare for the next in a series of financial hits because of their antics, they compromised, so we will not be destitute for Christmas. Angry and bitter with them, yes, but there will be presents and love amongst mi familia.)
Tom and I went to a Peruvian restaurant we haven't been to since Mad arrived. Dinner was fabulous. We started and finished with beef empanadas and the best chimichurri sauce. Seriously. There's one left over in my fridge right now and my mouth is watering just thinking about it. I'd eat it, but I'm pretty sure Tom wants it. Although, he did eat most of the other one... hmm...
Anyway, the food was excellent, wine was just as good as I remembered and the conversation never lagged. Considering Tom and I were wiped out before leaving on our date, that's impressive. Or maybe it was the wine.
From what I can tell, Peruvian time moves much more slowly. So dinner was nearly a two hour affair. It's always like that at this place, but the food is definitely worth it. However, it meant that our second plan for the night, seeing a current movie in an actual theater, was no longer an option. It was, like, 8:35 people! And the next time our movie started was over an hour later. Add in the time for the movie, getting the girls, nursing Fynn before leaving, getting Corey and the schlep home and that was not happening.
We headed to a bookstore with a coffee shop, where we bought a few books for the kids and some hot drinks. As we sipped our drinks I gazed lovingly into Tom's bleary red eyes. No, it wasn't too much wine. It was 10:00 at night. Almost. I suggested we call it a night. Tom resisted until I mentioned we still had to get the girls and Corey and drive an hour home. We dashed to the car.
While I was nursing Fynn before leaving, my dad gave me one more present that night. He told me he'd had a dream about my biological father, Russ, someone I haven't spoken with in seven or eight years now. In his dream Dad asked him what he was thinking with the choices he'd made and did he have any idea what he was giving up? Most people only get one father, and a lot of people get mediocre to crappy to absentee fathers. I don't even know how I got so lucky.
By the time we got home last night it was about 12:30. Fynn wanted to nurse again, so I sat here and cuddled her in the dark. Tom crawled into bed. We talked for a minute and he told me I looked nice tonight. And then he fell asleep. Forty-five minutes later I joined him. It's not exactly the big shebang I think we'd envisioned for our fifth anniversary even as recently as last year. But it was fun and loving. Last year we made a baby and this year I got to eat a meal with two hands and without someone standing over me holding the baby while they "wait for me to finish." I'll take it.
Last Thursday was our anniversary. We've been married four years.
Our first anniversary was spent in a cabin in Big Bear. Lovely and frosty.
The second was a weekend in Julian. Lovely and filled with apple pie goodness and all the promise of my pregnant belly.
Last year we were just kicking off our house hunt and all moneys were going toward that. Plus, we had an extreme consumer named Madelyn who constantly required a new something-or-other. We had dinner at the restaurant that catered our wedding and went to a movie in Claremont, the town where we were married. We saw Rachel Getting Married. Great movie. Not so much for the romantic evening.
This year, we have a house that has a lengthy list of projects (and we didn't even buy a fixer, this is what I don't get), a son who has his own lengthy list of charges and fees and whatnot, and a commute that had quadrupled our fuel costs until Tom also switched to a hybrid... so now we have a second car payment. We made plans to send the kids away to the grandparents for the weekend and to go out for a nice dinner.
I have to admit that I balked at the nice dinner part and eventually suggested that we just keep Mad home, find some fun recipes and try them out. We've done that for Valentine's Day, and it strikes me as less let's-not-spend-money than going to some strip mall restaurant. It didn't help that the place we'd selected has been named "The Best Sushi Bar in the High Desert." Even one of the most outstanding reviews on Yelp said, "You know that stuff didn't get pulled out of the ocean this morning."
Then along came a card and a check from Tom's parents. They sent us enough money for a lovely weekend and some of the yard work that will need to be done in the spring. Happy anniversary to us!
I was still voting to cook for one another and be at home together because, yes, sometimes I am crazy. Tom, in his best loving way, said we could do that if I wanted, but he had something different in mind. I went along with him because I'm not completely insane.
He made all the plans and arrangements with the caveat that I was not to look at our bank account until after the weekend.
Yesterday morning I made a shopping list of all the food we'll need for Thanksgiving. We were all going to shop together, but Mad opted for an early nap. Tom asked me to pack something for an overnight trip and to plan on wearing something nice that evening.
Here is the first reason I should have just taken 10 minutes and packed right away instead of screwing around: I wouldn't have felt ridiculous when Tom got home from a 90 minute shopping trip and I'd packed clothes for today, a bathrobe and slippers.
Here's the second reason: When it was time to leave, I might not have had to rush around and grab things like deoderant or the grownup shoes I was planning to wear that evening or my purse; and I definitely wouldn't have had to thank my husband for remembering the toothbrushes.
Want another one? As we drove a few blocks from the house, my response to Tom's question would have been, "Yes, I did bring that one thing that Corey absolutely must have. No problem, honey. I've got it covered."
Ahem...
So yesterday afternoon we dropped Mad off with my Dad and Margaret. We had a yummy dinner on a heated patio at Walter's and walked maybe 8 blocks up to the place where we married. We hoped someone else was getting married and joked about crashing the party, but it was empty and dark.
The walk there and back was lovely. We enjoyed checking out all the old architecture of this college town. The only downside was that I did wear grownup shoes last night. With three inch heels. And I didn't use the restroom at Walter's before we left.
When we got back to the car, Tom offered a few choices before heading to our next destination. I had no idea what the next destination was, so I happily opted for the one involving a drive. When we got to Pasadena, I knew we were staying at the hotel where we spent our first married night. It's a gorgeous hotel, and we were treated just as well now as then. Better, even (which is really saying something).
The front desk attendant, Lauren, asked what brought us there. Tom told her it was our fourth anniversary and that we'd spent our wedding night there. She welcomed us back.
After buying what must have been gold-laced water in the "gift and business shop" (seriously... even Disneyland doesn't have those prices!) and dropping off our stuff in the room, we headed out for some more walking. That's when I realized I'd left my comfy shoes in the now valet-parked car.
Suck it up, baby. We walked down to Colorado Boulevard and went in search of dessert. There are a ton of great places for dessert on Colorado. We stopped at a shopping center and looked at the map to see what options were nearby. A security guard came over to help. He suggested Coldstone Creamery.
"No... not ice cream... something that's not cold..." So he called over his security guard pal on a 10-speed.
"What about 21 Flavors?"
"Yeah, no... not ice cream."
"Frozen yogurt?"
"Thanks, guys."
We ended up at a surf-themed burger place that I would have sworn did not have dessert. I was wrong. Chocolateily, gooily wrong. Yes, it was so good I have to make up my own words. And we enjoyed it on a heated balcony, so it was even better.
A short hobble back to the hotel and we found that Lauren had sent up chocolate covered strawberries and champagne. We were too full to really enjoy them, so we saved them for today.
Last night we talked about sleeping in as late as we wanted. This morning we both woke up at 5:30, but managed to get back to sleep. We slept late... for a workday. We were wide awake and starting our day at 6:30.
It was a beautiful, warm day.
Want to know something special about the windows in the room? They open. I know!
The strawberries became a pre-breakfast treat that I highly recommend.
Horror of horrors, we've become morning people. Turns out not to be so bad. We had breakfast at Marston's. It's a little house converted to a restaurant. When we arrived, the wait was about 3 minutes. When we left, 20 people or so were outside waiting.
On the way out of town we stopped at the swanky two-storey Target to purchase Christmas cards and Mada-socks (where do her socks go?). At the downstairs entrance is a planter with pink cement and a bunch of handprints. One of the sets belongs to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. I have never been accused of having short or stubby fingers, but this picture would suggest otherwise.
As Britney would say, "Ding dang, ya'll!"
Mad was very happy to see us. She kept hugging me and patting my back or arm or leg... whatever was closest.
We stopped at my mom's to drop off Corey's must-haves. He has been with her for two weeks. It feels longer. With any luck, he'll be home Tuesday evening after an appointment with the therapist. In any case, I believe Mad's reaction to seeing him for the first time in two weeks should definitely make it clear that she wouldn't just forget about him. She threw herself into his arms and said, "Co... Co-wee!" Not sure how many times she went back to hug him or have him pick her up.
It was good for all of us.
