Here we are on Thanksgiving. I was pissed at him for something and am elbowing him away from me.
We spent our honeymoon driving to Michigan where Jon was in graduate school and had to return to class. We didn't care that we weren't getting a proper honeymoon. We were in love! We'd have a honeymoon someday. (Hasn't happened yet.) Our first anniversary was spent driving from Buffalo to Michigan in a snow storm with a crying baby. We got to our ice cold house late in the evening and--I remember this particularly--ate vegetarian hot dogs that looked like scalded human fingers and freezer burned wedding cake. I was already pregnant again. Our second anniversary was the day of Jon's brother's funeral. He died tragically young of a brain tumor. We had two babies by then.
And so it went, an opera of mishaps both comic and tragic: home renovations, deaths, illness, road trips, DIY carpentry, hurricanes, blizzards, leaky roofs, being robbed, shitty landlords, mice, rats, squirrels, birds, ants, fleas, poverty, broken down cars, puppies, the occasionally appalling behavior of our children and much much more. Much of this blog is a catalog of our more comic disasters. To give one example, here's the story of how I had to help him find the suitcases so he could leave me.
Lately we've been facing a new crisis and seeing a counselor. She gave us an assignment for the night: to go out to dinner and discuss what we'll be doing twenty years from now. It's always fun to make plans for the future and the exercise served its purpose--for us to visualize ourselves together.