Anniversary Antics

Last weekend, my husband and I celebrated 5 years of marriage. And by “celebrated,” I mean we actually arranged childcare, dressed up, and left the house -- at night! (More on that later.) I tell you, 5 years ago on that beautiful October day in Rhode Island, I could never have imagined the life we have today.

The day of my wedding, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. full of nervous excitement. Little did I know that 3 years later, I would become intimately familiar with that hour of day. I eagerly slipped into my gorgeous wedding dress, which I’d spent countless hours shopping for. I couldn’t conceive of a day when I might dress in shrunken, stained T-shirts, yet spend countless hours shopping for tiny seersucker blazer for my son to wear on Easter. I was obsessed with every detail of my wedding -- the flowers on the ends of the church pews, the handmade programs and favors, the music, the photos. Fast-forward to today, when I have a single wedding photo on display, but about 50 zillion snapshots of a certain brown-eyed baby boy around the house.

Yep, times change. Now, a night out involves intricate planning. Which is probably why we decided to bag it this year. Who needs a fancy anniversary celebration, right? Well, I do. Otherwise it’s just another day. So I was thrilled when my husband announced that he’d planned a surprise getaway for us. We’d drive to Washington, D.C., drop off Miles at my brother and SIL’s house, then go out to dinner and spend the night at a nice hotel. Woo hoo!

I couldn’t believe my brother and his wife had agreed to take on another busy toddler in addition to their own. But as they say, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth! To make things as easy as possible on them, I packed up Miles’ clothes, PJs, books, stuffed animals, blankets, Pack & Play and potty seat, and wrote down his nightly routine. But I was plagued with doubt. Would he stay in the Pack & Play or jump out like he’d done the last time? Would he use the potty at someone else’s house, or did we risk derailing our progress so far? Would he keep my niece awake all night? Maybe it wasn’t worth the hassle.

Exasperated, C. huffed, “You’re making it more complicated than it needs to be! Let’s just GO. He’ll be fine.” And he was.

OK, so he didn’t go to bed until 9 p.m., after a drawn-out bedtime routine during which he roped my SIL into reading him book after book, claimed he needed to use the potty at the last minute, took his sweet ol’ time savoring his post-potty lollipop, insisted he needed a nightlight, and kept asking, “Where’s my family?” At the restaurant, we texted back and forth for updates. “Haven’t heard a peep in 15 min,” wrote my brother. Whew!

But what if he woke up at some ungodly hour, like 5:30 a.m.? Milk and PBS should buy you another hour or two, I assured them. Shockingly, Miles slept until 7:20 a.m. The kids got along great, the parents handled the two of them just fine, and everybody looked fairly happy and well-rested when we joined them the next morning.

As for C. and I, we enjoyed a fabulous, leisurely meal and clean, high-thread count sheets on a bed we didn’t have to make in the morning, as well as the rare experience of having entire conversations that weren’t interrupted to shout, “Two hands! Use two hands to drink your milk, please” and “Leave the dog alone!”

Maybe it’s a far cry from champagne and chocolates, but you know what? We appreciate life’s smaller luxuries now. And as fun as our wedding was, I doubt even one person noticed those damn pew bows! I’m happy to spend my time doing more important things, like hunting down Miles’ lost Lightning McQueen car.

LINK O’ THE WEEK: Why, Denis Leary, why? Why’d you have to go there? I mean, autism? Really? Now Jenny McCarthy’s going to kick your ass.