Yesterday your father and I "celebrated" our 7th wedding anniversary. It really wasn't much of a celebration. Nora, you had Frozen Gymnastics camp with Ashley and we left the house at 7:45am, not expecting to return until 5pm or so but Lucy started screaming and holding her ear on 795 and she didn't open her eyes because they were crusted shut. So I quickly drove you down to camp with Ashley but her mom got a flat tire and Ashley wasn't there to help you adjust and a huge meltdown ensued. At the same time, your father scheduled a pediatrician appointment back in Westminster for 45 minutes later. It took an hour to get to the camp. So we waited for Ashley to arrive and then I drove 80 mph around 695 and up 795 to get Lucy to the doctor (only 10 minutes late). Lucy was diagnosed with a double ear infection and an eye infection. Thankfully, your dad could go to the pharmacy and pick up the prescriptions, but half of our town must be ill since the wait for the medicine was over an hour. I was able to drive back down to Jessica's house just in time to pick you up at 2pm and watch your awesome gymnastics show! After, we did go to Chick Fila for ice cream and a few minutes of play before we had to come back home to get you, Nora, to your next event; a play date with your friend Catie. I finally got home around 6pm and Lucy had been sleeping for 3 hours. Your father and I woke her up and decided not to take her anywhere. Daddy ordered from Papa Joes, an authentic Mexican restaurant in town. I shared my quesadillas with Lu while she sipped on chicken broth and antibiotics. I fell asleep to watching some kid program only to be woken up to get Lucy to go to bed with me. So Lucy and I watched an episode of Hour of Cards on the iPad and snuggled under the blanket of vaporized steam. Your father stayed up until midnight to polyurethane your bathroom floor. Daddy decided to tear up the bathroom floor and redo the sink in your bathroom last week (under the ugly linoleum we found beautiful tongue and groove hard wood floors, score!). And there was our anniversary. It wasn't all bad, your father made me a sangria for my quesadilla and we talked about what our intentions were if Lucy hadn't gotten sick. No cards, but your father bought me a desk set which is for the 7th year of marriage. I have yet to verify that information is accurate. Desk sets? Really?
But the 7th year of marriage is usually known for an itch / dissatisfaction/ unfaithful time / wanting something different.
I don't think we have time for itching really. With driving you two all over the place, fostering our work relationships and responsibilities, taking care of 2 kids and a dog and a 115 year old house, we don't have time to itch for something else. We live in the present, the now, the today. What do we have to take care so we survive this week? It isn't the best way to live but for now, with a 5 and 3 year old, that's where we are. But in moments of quiet and moments of solitude (few and far between) I remember the man I met 15 years ago. How I fell in love with his kindness and gentle spirit and his endless pursuit of having fun. I can't explain why I fell in love with your father. I wasn't looking for a relationship; I wasn't looking for my husband but here we are. I know something is "right" in my life when it just is. I can't explain why or how. That it is effortless. The two of you are effortless to love. You simply belong. That's how my love for your father began and exists. The love was just there one day. Like it had always been. He is my past, present and future. It is in his love that I exist. His warm spirit has surrounded me for 15 years. Although we have only been married 7 years, I can't imagine my life without him.
We don't need fancy dinners or flowers or cards or date nights to know our love. It exists inside the mundane days, the exciting events, the stressful times, the intermittent calm and/or boring days. We simply don't need a special event to celebrate / commemorate our love. It just exists within us between each other. A security and absolute rule that I can't explain.
So I guess I could itch for something different. A job, a house, a new group of friends or a car but never your father. Never his love. Never the life I built with him. He has always been and will always be the love of my life. When the house seems too clutter, when our jobs seem too stressful, when life seems to always be surrounded with illness, it is the love that your father and I share that holds us all up and it is the place from where we grow.
Happy New Year my loves.