Happy 20th Anniversary to us, Garth (not his real name!)
Most of my kids go back to school, this week — my middle girl has been accepted into a specialized high school and doesn't start until the Tuesday after Labor Day AND yes the other kids are NOT happy about it.
So, to soften the mood of our house (seriously, where DID the summer go?) my husband Garth (not his real name) surprised me for our 20th Wedding Anniversary (thanks for the well wishes, btw!) by taking a vacation day last Wednesday, Thursday AND Friday to spend more time with me (yes, ME!) doing absolutely nothing of REAL importance, which truly is a MONUMENTAL act of love, on his part.
20 years ago (I know…I'm old…shuddup!) I was cruising down the Parkway (a.k.a. Garden State Parkway, for those of you who aren't, you know, from Jersey) surrounded by taffeta and covered in tulle (it was the end of the 80's, baby) as my soon-to-be-sister-in-law mooned traffic and made me laugh so hard, I snorted champagne out of my nostrils!
You would have thought SHE was the one getting married (the aforementioned Parkway-mooner, I mean) the way her hand shook, each time she filled my paper cup.
It took her forever to FINALLY convince her brother to ask me out.
"Just this once and then you leave me alone, right?"
I guess, since we DID get engaged, only 2 months later, she was just hoping it would, you know, work out.
Flash forward 20 years: taking into consideration, ALL the good times (and bad) oh, and even those days that totally sucked hairy donkey balls (you're welcome!) not to mention, 4 kids, 2 cats, 1 sock-eating doofus-dog AND enough laundry to circle the planet (twice) YES, I really would do it ALL over again.
However, this time, perhaps with MORE champagne, a little less tulle and I'd be the one, you know, mooning the Parkway.
So, what ARE we doing for our 20th?
[shrugs shoulders]
Well, in lieu of fine china (which, is a really bad gift idea, for a klutz, like me, btw!) we're celebrating by taking our kids hiking to Bushkill Falls, PA today (it's where he proposed) then, having lunch at Hot Dog Johnny's in Buttzville, NJ (I kid you not!) followed by a burping contest across the Delaware (because, nothing burps better than Johnny's birch beer!) and then probably order in for some Chinese food, tonight.
Next week, my husband Garth (not his real name) and I will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.
Married. 20 years. To each other.
Inconceivable, considering I've only just turned 29, again (ahem!) but, how did we get here?
"Look, we found a box of old photos!"
Because, I've never been really very good at finishing what I start (cough!) and 2 out of 4 of their baby books are actually, you know, finished.
"Who's that?"
My dad. My mom. My grandmother. They ALL looked so young. I managed to hold onto it (barely) but, couldn't stop my hands from shaking when I remembered who must have taken the picture.
"Why does Papa look so sad?"
My grandmother was married to a very (and I mean VERY) abusive man (in the worse sense of the word, really) so, I can IMAGINE what my father was thinking at that very moment.
"I think he was maybe just nervous."
With good reason. My father had a tumultuous relationship with HIS father-in-law (which, happened to be on a good day) and, well, the decision to move in with his in-laws must NOT have been an easy one, either.
"Was she married?"
Growing up, in that house, however, was MUCH worse.
"Who?"
Still, ALL parents fight…right?
"Your grandmother."
Especially, with their in-laws…no?
"She was married, but then she got divorced."
Granted, I don't remember my friends ever talking about the police being called out to their grandparents' houses.
"For how long?"
Not as often as they visited mine, I mean.
"How long, what?"
Then, there was silence.
"How long was she married?"
Days and days without talking to each other.
"40 years, I think."
Doesn't matter. After a while, it all becomes a BIG blur anyway and, well, I just never dreamed it could be, or would be…any different…for me.
"She was married twice as long as you and daddy!?!?"
20 years. Married. To each other.
"Are you going to do something special for your anniversary?"
Inconceivable, indeed.
"Yeah, we're gonna stay married!"
Frankly, the man of MY dreams was WAY different.
"That's NOT funny, mom!"
Thank you, Garth (not his real name) for NOT being that man!!!
I ran into a friend of mine at the drug store, on Saturday — seriously, nearly knocked her over right in front of the feminine products aisle — we haven't seen each other since, well, the last days of school and spent the next few minutes, you know, catching up.
"Enjoying a nice, quiet summer, I hope?"
I continued to babble on and on, trying to distract her from noticing the fact that I had NOT shaved my legs in two weeks (you're welcome!) by saying something about my two most favorite days of the year being the last day of school AND the first day of school!
"Did you hear that my mother died?
Aaaaand then, my brain screeched to a halt.
"Oh…no…I am SO sorry."
As, I lied (like a cheap rug) and pretended that I hadn't heard of the poor woman's loss.
Mount Mitchill Scenic Overlook County Park, Atlantic Highlands, NJ
Actually, it was grayish, rainy and a bit chilly, yesterday.. PERFECT weather for some late summertime fun…here, in Jersey, anyway.
A lot of folks seem to like visiting New Jersey (on purpose) especially, our neck of the Jersey shore and I'm okay with that (mostly) I mean, if it weren't for the Bennies (i.e. people who visit here, only in the summertime) we'd probably have to pay A LOT MORE money to get on our beaches and MTV would NOT currently hold the #1 google rank it does, you know, today…DAMNIT!
My husband, Garth (not his real name) met me at the train station on Sunday and, after taking a quick look at my swollen legs, scaly arms, blistering hands and blotchy neck (you're welcome!) believing that my recent poison ivy infection had somehow morphed into leprosy (ditto) he drove me straight to the doctor's office.
I mean, really, wrangling 2,000+ registered attendees (not to mention, the 11-ty billion others already living in/visiting NYC) something's bound to go wrong (coming from someone, whose attempts at throwing a dinner party, for 6, the last 16 years, has failed, miserably, more often than not) and, well, someone's destined to get their feelings hurt (see previous parenthesis) or, break something (ditto) right?
No worries, SaveHer'10 is here (i.e. alternate title: Riding in an Ambulance with BusyMom!)
I still remember that fateful day, when my husband Garth (not his real name) and I nervously sat down at the conference table, distracting the lawyer long enough to hand us each styrofoam cups of stale coffee and, between the 3 of us, was the only one able to hold a pen steady enough to sign the papers.
"I think I'm gonna throw up!"
I was a few weeks pregnant with our first daughter (commuting, while under the influence of gestation, sucks wet poodle, btw!) and, well, WE WERE BUYING OUR FIRST HOUSE!
"You're young, yet, there's still time."
The lawyer, who seemed very well-versed in the matter, insisted that investing in a starter home was the way to go and that our timing could NOT have been better.
"As long as you move before the kid starts kindergarten!"
17 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, 2 refinances and 1 doofus-dawg, later (give or take a couple of goldfish) both my husband and I have FINALLY accepted the fact that we are, you know, totally screwed.
"Wow, it's a lot bigger than I thought!"
If I had a dollar for each time a repairman has said that to me, well, I'd be able to park my car in the garage, by now.
"We get that, a lot."
Not to mention, folks who are surprised to find that our house, you know, looks A LOT different…on the inside.
"Doing some work, I see."
It's not like we have this thing for
dry wall (although, after a while, you DO sorta get used it) but, after
17 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, etc., etc., other stuff has taken priority
(like, you know, food) and, well, there's ALWAYS something, right?
"How long have you been renovating?"
This particular repairman, however, seemed to be genuinely interested.
"Let's see, um, about 17 years."
The poor guy stopped laughing as soon as he realized that I was, you know, serious.
"Uh-huh, so, okay, I'm done here, buh-bye."
Granted, it's not the smallest house on the block (my 103 year-old next door neighbor has owned that title for, well, over 100 years, now) and, with a few of gallons of paint (give or take a couple of barrels) or, a VERY LARGE construction crew, looking for some pro bono work, who knows?
"Um, did you back-flush the pool, today?"
Because, you see, these days, I am the Queen of Denial AND Supreme Back-flusher!
"Why?"
Then, I remembered….that I forgot…to turn the shut-off valve, you know, back on.
"You burned up the motor!"
Long story, short (you're welcome!) that same day, we also ended up taking my car into the shop (it was either that, or never be able to make a left turn, ever again!) and that little bit of money I just got paid (because, you know, I do work, sometimes) uh-huh, I'm sending one of the Pep Boys on a lovely vacation…this summer.
"You owe your father a cup of coffee."
Apparently, my dad made a big stink about paying for the new pump in the pool store and, well, I owed the man a piece of cake AND dinner for the next 2 weeks, too.
"Why are you ALL wet?"
Apparently, the pump is a whole LOT stronger than our old one, the pressure split the out-take hose and being doused with chlorinated water, while under the influence of coffee (and cake) makes you do this:
What? Melisa thought it was funny when I told her this same EXACT story on Monday (STILL don't have my car, sucks donkey balls, btw!) or, maybe she was just humoring me, either way.
[snort]
Still, it's OUR home, the kids seem to like it and I wouldn't trade this house, or the love I felt for my husband, at that particular moment, for all the philanthropically-inclined contractors in the world.
[wipes eyes]
Okay, maybe Ty Pennington (relax, my husband already knows and he's okay with it) or one of the HGTV Dream Homes (I've been trying to win, since 2001, DAMMIT!) but, let's not open that OLD wound, okay?
