Once upon a time, in the throes of a difficult pregnancy, I had this brilliant idea that our son should be born the day after our anniversary. At the time, it made sense; I was tired of being pregnant; I had no amniotic fluid so each day I had to consume 96 ounces of water. This meant I made about 96 trips to the bathroom too. I was ready to move into motherhood and leave pregnancy behind. What I didn't know, however, was that sharing our anniversary with our son's birth would end up being difficult and exhausting.
Most years, we seem to cram a birthday party into the same weekend as our anniversary celebration. This year was no different. We had a marathon birthday party on a Saturday: 11-3pm for kids; 4-8 pm for adults. We were all on sensory overload by the end of it. My son was fried on cake and shooting pretend guns at his friends; I was struggling to make conversation by day's end as my brain could no longer hold onto a thought. My husband simply drank beer to make it through the day.
The next day was our anniversary, and spent a significant portion simply laying down and resting. It wasn't an ideal anniversary, but it somehow fit us. Taking a walk, the three of us plus the dog, made for a leisurely togetherness we hadn't experienced the day before. Our celebratory dinner was shared with our son; we figured he wouldn't have a birthday if we hadn't married.
I love our anniversary because my husband actually tries to give me presents I'll enjoy, and this year was no different. As a huge fan of "I Love Lucy," I've been wanting other seasons of the show, and he bought me seasons three and four! He also gave me a season of her later show, "The Lucy Show," which I have rarely seen. I found him a cast-iron dutch oven that he's been wanting. Neither of the gifts was particularly romantic but they fit us beautifully. I don't need jewelry and neither does he. We can't afford an exotic vacation. But he loves outdoor camping and cooking while I love "Lucy."
Our anniversary celebration was reflective of us: enjoyable and family-focused. We wouldn't have it any other way.
