state of the union

Finally, a moment to write. SD is scrubbing our wild-child, and I am stealing precious quiet minutes to write Happy Anniversary to us on a keyboard that is missing the letter 'N' because we have a small one who toddles among us, looking for unsuspecting keyboards from which to pluck letters with the determination and precision that I pluck my overgrown mom-brows. It's SD's keyboard, actually, because mine is devoid of the space bar, too.

I am drinking my most recent purchase, Mad Housewife Merlot, about which I will blog at a later date, and thinking about what I can write on a compromised keyboard. I guess I have to avoid 'n' words. Not really sure what those might be, but okay.

So, yeah, it's 5 years for us, which means we were babies of 25 when we, all bright-eyed and unassuming, wed in the wake of a hurricane. We were actually talking about that earlier tonight, saying that seems young to us, but, god, out parents were like, what 15 when they got married. Okay, 16? Kidding. But, shit, they were really young, and that makes me think that I don't even want to think how young our grandparents were when they married. We are now 30 and have one child. By that point, our grandparents had a brood, and our parents certainly had their hands full. And no one took anti-anxiety drugs back then.

I should point out to those readers who may not know that it's been 5 years of marriage for us, but actually, we've known each other since we were 7 and in the second grade, so that's a hike. A good hike, I mean. Earlier today, I was trying to recall where we were and what we were doing for each of our anniversaries up to this point. This is the point where you may want to just leave your comment and sign off because I'm about the take the ever-lovin' stroll down memory lane, and, god, if I were you, I'd sign off and go watch Friday-night TV or something. Go on. You have my permission.

First aniversary, we were both taking grad classes, living in Pasadena, Maryland. Hurricane Isabel hit a couple of weeks before our anniversary, and we started to think there might be a trend. Our wedding date = natural disaster. We ate our frozen wedding cake topper a week early because it had thawed because of the lack of electricity in our apartment. Good times.

Second anniversary is a GAPING hole in my swiss cheese brain. Do holes gape? I don't know, but this keyboard is annoying the holy crap outta me, and, gawd, the letter 'n' is way overused in the English language. Seriously, I don't remember what we were doing for our second anniversary. We were living in downtown Annapolis, which was extremely cool. That's all I recall. We must have drank a lot that year. Oh no, silly me, that was my first year of teaching. That's why I have no recollection. Teaching teenagers (and probably raising them, too) causes serious and irretrievable loss of brain cells, so who needs to drink. Really.

Third anniversary, we were homeowners! Stupid homeowners who flipped a house in a year's time, but it was a great house, except for the crack whore across the street. We ate a decadent anniversary dinner at Cafe Degas, and, how could I forget...we were pregnant!

Fourth anniversary, we were new to Tejas and kicking it in our temporary digs until we found a house. Our first-born was learning to eat crackers while we held our breaths (and probably drank lots of wine).

And now, we have arrived at the fifth, and we are still standing, which some days just seems like a goddamn miracle. But that's how it goes, right?

Happy Anniversary to us!!