five is for wood. good luck with that.

I'm taking a break from Baby Talk Fridays this week to acknowledge a significant day for our family.

You’ve read about this weekend before: cotton , leather, appliances .

Every year as the end of summer rolls in, Steve & I debate various anniversary plans; destinations, dinners, & arrangements for the mini us. We’ve been incredibly fortunate to have a night away each year since our wedding to be together, to reflect on the years behind us, to imagine the adventures that await us. Five years.

We considered all options this year and for a great deal of time we were heading somewhere isolated, beautiful, and quiet. In the end it was with the wisdom of those five years that we chose a more urban location. It really is more our speed, particularly this year when I know that sitting before a roaring fire after a glass of wine will put me to sleep in approximately 30 seconds.

We’re spending some time with my parents tonight who have graciously offered to take Caroline for the night while we race off to Providence’s Biltmore Hotel tomorrow. Lunch at McCormick and Schmick’s (I'm eyeying the coconut shrimp app - a cup of chowder - and a lobster roll - though I'll probably more sensibly pick something from the 9.95 menu) in the bar watching the BC/VT game (thank goodness for early kickoffs that don’t interfere with fancy dinner plans), dinner on Federal Hill, an evening at the Waterfires, and a glass of wine from our wedding shower labeled by my fabulous girlfriends and the aunties “to enjoy on your fifth anniversary.” I pulled the bottle off the rack earlier this week and placed it by the door so we don’t forget to bring it along. Five years ago that bottle seemed so far away. God we'd be over 30 then, we'd be ancient! We would never drink that bottle! Now it sits dust covered, a reminder of the passage of all that time.

Our fifth year was by far our most challenging. We came together like never before when our shared feelings of an unfinished family began to feel hopeless. Steve became mr. power of positivity, while I took on his alter ego of ms. half empty glass. When we couldn't talk to anyone else, we had each other. The man I married never believed that it wouldn't happen for us. He expressed concern. He held my hand. He collected pooled tears on his shoulder, but I know that he always knew in his heart this this could, that it would, happen. He convinced me to believe, we supported one another, and we are having a son. A son to become his father’s constant sidekick. A son to share his father’s love of sports. A son fortunate enough to grow up with a tremendous role model; amazing work ethic, fierce loyalty, easygoing, approachable, dedicated to doing the right thing, and the expectation that others will do same.

The man who just two and a half years ago was absolutely terrified of what loomed ahead when his daughter arrived could not possibly be more stoked about this new baby. I know this would be the true even if he were a she. In Steve I found my perfect counterpart, my matching cog. It has only been through watching him experience fatherhood that I have come to fully appreciate what a special gift he is.

We are all so lucky to have you.

Happy fifth anniversary, Steve.


Post a Comment