Most of the time, I have trouble keeping track of what day of the week it is, I forget what I ate for lunch yesterday, and if there’s a holiday (other than the heavy hitters) I am usually the last to remember. I don’t blame this on Mommy-Brain, but more a combination of lack of caring, depletion in whatever hormone creates sentimentality, and two insane ankle-biters screaming as loud as they possible can at all hours of the day making normal brain function next to impossible.
So when I got a text today from Thomas that said “Happy Anniversary, I meant to tell you before I left this morning”– I was not angry that he’d forgotten to make some gigantic deal about it while I was still scrubbing the crust from my eyes- my thought process was more along the line of “OOPS!”– because, to be honest, I completely spaced on it. I remembered LAST week, but last week is last.fucking.week, shit doesn’t just carry over.
FIVE years. I’d say five “long” years, but we all know that’s a crock of shit. Five years is a drop in the hat compared to the silver 25 and the golden 50 and whatever other colors correspond with how man years you’ve been stuck with the same person. What does 5 get? A ham sandwich? Chartreuse (because who the fuck likes that color)? An honorable mention ribbon?
Perhaps I shouldn’t be scoffing so loudly at 5 years. That’s considered a lifetime in Hollywood, and it’s bucking the “statistics” that love to say those who marry young get divorced quickly.
It sounds better if I say “half a decade”- half a decade that brought two children to this planet, 3 moves, maybe not a buttload of adventure and risks but I think, other than the fighting and throwing of jarred baby food and the handful of knock down drag out fights, it hasn’t all been bad. Some may say the first year is the hardest, I might argue that the first FIVE are, especially when you add children to the equation.
We love them, we cherish them, they are our worlds, but they can cause SO much tension on even the strongest of marriages. If you can survive toddlerhood without smothering your spouse, I would dare to say you can survive anything.
So how are we choosing to celebrate this momentous occasion? This HUGE milestone in growing old together. The first year, we ate the top of our wedding cake and it was the most disgusting fucking thing i’ve ever put in my mouth (DIRTY!) in all my years- after that we never followed the traditional celebratory gifts and things to do, however, i’m glad I was reminded that today is anniversary day because I was digging deep for an excuse to get out of cooking dinner.
Tonight’s menu? Rum. Taco Bell. A dessert of some sort that I did NOT bake myself.
Hell, let’s class it the fuck up and have Thomas spring for the extra buck to have them make my “special” order.
How’s that for a Chartreuse 5th Anniversary?
I think it works.
You wouldn't sniff a stranger's butt to see who pooped their pants.... so you probably shouldn't do these other parental things to strangers, either. holdinholden.com/2017/12/weir…
Weird Things you do for your kids but not Strangers goo.gl/fb/oVuwvG
Tis the season! pic.twitter.com/5VgMLnt22E
I am weak pic.twitter.com/LYdRQ6EZcC
You know that feeling when you don't chew a chip all the way and it cuts you all the way down and you swear it's gonna kill you, but you go ahead have another right after? That's what it's like when you decide to have another kid.