As I opened my eyes, the late-morning sun streaming through the windows, I noticed the bed was strewn with rose petals. A piping-hot mug of coffee sat on the bedside table. On it was propped a note: “Happy Anniversary, my love.” And then I woke up.
Specifically, I woke up in the dark, cold pre-dawn hours to find a damp toddler in my bed. The Stealth Snuggler had struck again. And he was stealing the covers. I must have dozed off because when I wake up again I can hear the sounds of traffic coming from the street outside. “What time is it?” I whisper to my slumbering spouse.
While attempting to see the clock, he accidentally sets off the alarm. The harsh blare cuts through the silence. “7:15,” C. announces groggily. “We’re late!”
A flurry of activity ensues. I wake our other son, drag him downstairs for breakfast, throw some clothes on him. C. packs the lunches and gets himself dressed. We bump into each other trying to make coffee, pour cereal, fetch spoons. “You have to leave in 5 MINUTES!!” I shout frantically. C. makes the unfortunate discovery that the dog has peed on the rug.
This is SO not how the day went 9 years ago.
On that day, I woke up on my own with flutters of excitement and some butterflies in my stomach. My wedding day was here at last! Soon I was having my hair and makeup done, greeting my bridesmaids, toasting my friends and family with mimosas, posing for pictures. Then it was off to the church and the reception. Dancing! Drinking! Dining! What a day.
What a difference 9 years makes. I don’t know why, because it’s not a full decade or anywhere close to my parents’ or in-laws’ 40+ years, but 9 years seems like a lot to me. Each passing year makes me more irate and/or incredulous at those Hollywood marriages that don’t even make it past 72 DAYS. I mean, come ON, people. It took me longer than that to write our thank-you notes.
We may not be under the scrutiny of tabloids and Scientologists, but I feel like 9 mostly happy years is seriously something to celebrate, don’t you? In all honesty, I don’t miss the planning and pageantry of the wedding. I do sort of miss the leisurely mornings and the hot coffee and flowers. (Though we never did the petals-on-the-bed thing. Think of the cleanup!)
But if our parents’ marriages are any indication, there’ll be plenty of time for that stuff again later. Right now life is busy, messy, and centers mostly around our boys. Romantic? Not always. (Although I’d argue that cleaning up dog pee means more than wine and roses.) Full of love? More than I ever thought possible.
P.S. Later in the day, we would find out that our furnace was not working and needs a massively expensive repair. Happy anniversary to us!