Anniversaries

On D and I’s last anniversary, some friends offered to watch the boys so we could go out. We declined for several reasons. We just aren’t that comfortable leaving the boys with babysitters. I know they are well past infanthood, and it is unlikely they will drown in the shower, and H hasn’t choked in more than two years….but no one feels the weight of responsibility more than the child’s parents. Over-protective? Probably. The other reason we turned down the offer was because when we do go out, all we end up doing is worrying and talking about the boys anyway. So for our anniversary we stayed in. We ordered some Chinese food and watched Cops after the boys were in bed. To date that was the most pleasant anniversary ever.

On our first anniversary, I was 7 months pregnant and swollen beyond recognition. So my dear husband, hoping to keep my ankles and toes from actually exploding off my body, bought me a practical gift. I should mention I like practical gifts. New vacuum? Yes please. New washer and dryer? Thank you very much. Anyway he had seen a product ad on television for inflatable massage boots….that’s right…inflatable massage boots.

Sadly some of the hoses were broken and the boots never worked properly. Had they actually worked, it probably would have felt nice. As it was, though, he had to go back to rubbing my freakishly round feet. In case you are wondering what I got him for that anniversary?….a watch.  It really was the thought that counted, but that doesn't stop me from teasing him relentlessly.

I think that was the last anniversary we got each other gifts. I’m okay with that. I’m just happy that he has been home for most of our anniversaries. I joke that there is an Army policy that restricts a soldier from being home for more than one important date. He’s missed both of the boys’ last birthdays, but he will be here for my birthday and *fingers crossed* our anniversary this year. (I realize by writing that sentence I have jinxed the whole thing and he will now be gone for both…way to go, Mary.) This year we will probably do nearly the same as last year…watch Cops and eat wings. Incidentally, that is pretty much what we do every Saturday night (we really know how to party).