By now eleven years ago Jack and I had abandoned the family at my folks house and stolen home to our first house with a stash of corn bread salad and cheesecake that we had liberated from the post wedding picnic. I do not remember if we even had a bottle of wine though something tells me there might have been champagne.
We haven't ever managed to do a good job of celebrating our anniversary. I recall at least 2 that Jack spent sick. He worked nights on at least three. There is always something.
Today began with Jack in Alva, and Bell and I slogging through the rain to a wet soccer field at 8:45 only to discover that I read the schedule wrong and our game was at 10, not 9. We went to back to the car with our wet selves where Bell promptly dumped an entire 12 oz cup of hot chocolate in her lap in my from seat. 30 minutes we slogged back across the sloppy grounds to field 6. I had an umbrella and a raincoat but was soaked to skin by the time our four quarters were spent. As we walked back up the hill, Bell said that tadpoles could swim in her shoes. They were that wet.
We changed into dry clothes and managed to get lunch and a slew of errands ran including getting Bell's eyes checked and groceries bought.
We came home to Jack, laundry going, the typical chaos of his coming in after a week away combined with a chocolate car and groceries to deal with. I had planned on a picnic of bread, cheese, and wine - typical date night food for us. Quite unromantically, we had a 7 year old between us and the movie of the night is Men in Black 3.
You know, that is okay. I came home to a husband who knows when I am at the end my rope energy wise. He knows when I am sad or angry or just overwhelmed. And whatever it is that day, he rises to the challenge and does what he can to smooth the rest of the day into something I can handle. He forgives me when I am impatient and tired. He still thinks I am beautiful.
I came home to a family that we created. Later in the fall or winter, when he can take a day off, maybe we can go away for a day or two. Maybe once with Bell and once just us. But tonight, after a week of single parenting, I will take family night over romance.
Even though I loved the man I married, he has grown to be a far better man, as handsome as ever, but more patient, kinder, and gentle with me and that blond haired love that lives with us.
We have given each other far more than we dreamed of eleven years ago. Love is a richer than thing than I imagined. Happy Eleven, Jack Dear.
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