As your mother and I were lost in the chaos of parenting, we forgot about our anniversary this year. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that it struck us it had already passed. We generally don’t make a big deal about it nor do we go to great lengths to celebrate, but it’s still nice to do a little something. More so, it’s a great reminder to think back on how far we’ve come and what’s happened over the past year.
(Just for the record, we had the night off as the nanny was watching you for a few hours, and we were walking to get burgers at Meat Mission when it stuck me that our anniversary was a couple of days ago. So just like that, our casual dinner out became our anniversary dinner. Funnily enough, that night was the first time we went out alone for dinner since you were born.)
We’ve been married for three years now which isn’t long in the grand scheme of things nor is it a significant milestone, but obviously a lot has changed in the past year. I think we’ve always been close, even before we got married; your mother was one of my best friends and I shared a lot with her over the years. However, there’s no substitute for the bonding that occurs when raising a kid together; it’s one prolonged shared intimate experience. There’s no one else that will care or want to talk to me about your poop or how you flapped your arms in a funny way.
My relationship with your mother has definitely evolved. The physical intimacy has petered out mutually out of sheer exhaustion and we still have fights (usually about you now), but I feel as close to your mother as I ever have. Now, when I look at your mother, I not only think I wouldn’t have any other person be my wife, but also I wouldn’t have any other person be the mother of my child.