Anniversary

Yesterday was our anniversary. Eight years of marriagedom in the books. It was a lovely day.

The day before, I'd given The Husband his anniversary gift. I told him "it has a theme: favorites for my favorite." It was his favorite snacks, candle, t-shirt, socks, BBQ spices and running accessories. Later he and The Boy went to the store and came back with a gift for me. He said "It has a name. It's called....uh...things you love.....for the....one I love." He's very creative in that way.

Yesterday he also gave me 12 coupons he'd created that read " this certificate entitles the holder to one session of talking about feelings". The fine print includes "not redeemable for cash. Redemption value not to exceed one hour." He knows the way to my heart.

I guess when they went to the store they picked out some Reese's Pieces for me (my favorite), and decided they were a surprise. So at 6:15 I was asleep but in the distance heard The Boy's feet running down the steps. He then slung open the door to our room, ran to my side of the bed, and flung the Reese's Pieces bag on my back in excitement, saying "happy anniversary!" You can't say that guy isn't full of surprises. We got up and fixed everyone breakfast.

The Husband worked. I played with the boys and cleaned the house. (That's not actually true, because it was no cleaner in the afternoon than it had been in the morning. I just cleaned up after them and kept the status quo and made no actual progress on anything looking cleaner. I just mostly maintained. Which, by the way, takes a lot of effort.)

In the afternoon our neighbors came over to see if The Boy wanted to go down to the creek with them. He did. So off he went with them, happy as a clam. And a bit later I got this text:

That's exactly why he loves to go to the creek. And that's a t-rex I facepainted on him earlier, at his request. And also some of it is mud and some is nutella.

When he came back I hosed him off and he put his jeans back on. His shirt was soaked, so he decided not to wear a shirt. The neighbors cleaned up and came back to see if he could jump on their trampoline. He told everyone "I'm not wearing a shirt. Know why? Cause I don't have to, because boys' breasts aren't their privacies!" No one responded to this. I sat chatting with our neighbor, who Beyoyo calls Gretchy, on her porch while the kids played and their dinner burned inside. Oops, sorry about that.

The Boy came up to me and asked if he could eat dinner at their house. I told him no, because their dinner was burnt anyway. Prissy came over and got their dogs all riled up and she wouldn't go home, so the boys and I said our goodbyes and headed home. The Husband and I had a date night planned, and a sitter would be coming soon anyway.

The Boy was disgusting, so we put him right in the bath. The Husband started vacuuming. Beyoyo walked around the house holding my phone and saying "cheese!" even though the camera wasn't on. I was getting the boys' dinner of fish sticks and cheez its ready (because nutrition) when The Boy started yelling from the bathtub "mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy!" Now he does this about 100 times a day, so I knew it could be anything from a small kitchen fire to a lego head that wouldn't fit on just right. I made my way quickly into the bathroom to see what the emergency was, and saw Beyoyo trying to get in the tub fully dressed. I asked him not to do that, just as one shoe and a pant leg were completely submerged. The Boy said "mom, Beyoyo is putting your phone in the bath." PANIC at the disco. I grabbed the phone and grabbed Beyoyo and thanked The Boy for telling me.

I yelled to The Husband to come for backup, and handed one very wet and mad toddler to him. "Bath! Bath! BATH!" he wailed. I dried off the phone, which was still working, if you don't mind big colorful streaks across your screen. I scanned the pantry for rice and found none, and ran out the door back to our neighbor's house. She came to the door and I asked "do you have any rice? Beyoyo put my phone in the tub and I couldn't text you." She scanned her pantry and found none. "Hmmm." she said "Would quinoa do?" as she handed me a bag of ancient grains. I told her it was better than nothing and called out "thanks Gretchy!" over my shoulder as I headed home.

A few minutes later the sitter arrived. The Boy was naked on the bathroom floor, covered in a towel and pretending to be a turtle. Beyoyo was in his high chair eating fish sticks and rolling his eyes at anyone who would look at him. I gave the sitter instructions and told her to text The Husband if she needed anything, since my phone was in quinoa on the counter.

And then we left. We had a most delicious dinner where we didn't even talk about our kids, we went to a bar where a friend was working to enjoy a drink, and we walked around hand in hand downtown the way we did 10 years ago. We didn't know any of the bands that were playing and we sounded like old people when we noted that a college girl's shorts were too short. Then we came home to relieve the sitter. She said the boys were good, and that The Boy didn't eat any dinner but wanted crackers before bed. She asked him if he was allowed to have crackers and he said "you're in charge."

My phone wouldn't turn on. I'd been up since 6:15 and was tired. My kid had crackers for dinner, with a side of wisecrack for a sitter. They are exhausting, they are filthy, they are loud and they are nonstop, but I sure do appreciate them. Especially when there's a sitter involved. When I told The Husband what my most meaningful moments over the last 8 years had been and asked him what his were, he said I'd need to submit one of my coupons if I wanted to talk about feelings.