Last week Greg and I reached that milestone of a decade of marriage. We celebrated...sort of.
With the help of three wonderful friends, I coordinated a whole day of school pick-ups and play dates so that Greg and I could escape to Chicago for the day. The drive alone (three hours each way without whining and the sounds of Pokemon videos coming for the backseat) had me giddy. Also, we planned to go to the temple together. TOGETHER. That is like the ultimate treat. And it seemed an appropriate way to celebrate ten years of marriage.
Then David got sick. But he got better. Phew!
Then Mary got sick. And she did not get better. Boo!
Oh well. But there were touches of celebration last week...
Greg arranged to have the piano tuned. I think of the piano as my 10-year anniversary gift. We actually got it a month before our ninth anniversary. But, somehow, it has become in my mind a mark of 10 years. For me it represents real life and adulthood and stability, some measure of which we have reached after 10 years. It also shows that my husband loves me (because isn't there something terribly romantic about a husband buying a piano for his wife?) So having the piano tuned last week was fitting.
Also, on the day of, Greg brought me tulips and Dr. Pepper.
Then, on Friday (the day we'd arranged to spend in Chicago), my heart was still aching for the peace and quiet of the temple, even though Mary wasn't well enough to be passed off to other moms. (Seriously, I think I am getting addicted to the temple. I think this may say less about the temple than the amount of chaos and disquiet and messiness in my life! I am desperate to escape!) So we tossed an improving Mary into the car, picked David up at school, and drove to Chicago after all. (Who says kids have to be sick on the couch? They can be sick in the car...and in a hotel...right?)
So it was a quick, terribly unromantic trip of truck stop meals, separate temple sessions, and cramped double beds. (Also, we had to rush home right away Saturday for a previously scheduled and very important play date of David's with his BFF.) And then we spent Saturday afternoon and evening at separate church meetings (it was stake conference weekend), and then we juggled the kids in church on Sunday morning through the marathon that is a multi-congregational, stake conference meeting.
We celebrated our ten-year-anniversary with a whirlwind of sick kids, car time, separate church meetings, outpourings of the Spirit, general grouchiness, arguments, much-needed naps, heartfelt conversations, cereal-for-dinner, inspiration, the BFF, tears of happiness, tears of sadness, reflection, exhaustion, procrastination, and did I mention those cramped double beds?
Somehow it was perfectly appropriate. We have hopes of escaping to Chicago alone for a day, a night, and a day sometime this year. (Do you know I have NEVER BEEN TO THE ART INSTITUTE???!!) I also feel very grateful for the celebration of our 8-year-anniversary. Yet, to mark 10 years, the imperfect--the very very imperfect--was perfect.
P.S. Actually, the very best anniversary present was a perfectly normal, unremarkable, average, run of the mill, rather pleasant (pleasant!), tantrum-free Family Home Evening last night. We did it!! Finally! (And it only took 10 years!)
