Five years.

Among all the celebrations in December, we have our anniversary. It is a favorite celebration to be sure. Just like any other holiday, it is easy to let it be about what we do to celebrate rather than what we're celebrating. But it is really nice to have a whole day to remember when and why we got married. :)

This year, we celebrated a couple of weeks early. As I mentioned before, the kids spent an overnight with Grandma Trudie. (and Grandpa...I probably leave him out too often when he belongs. :) ) Finding ourselves childless, we used a much appreciated gift card to the movie theater and saw the latest Harry Potter flick, which was, of course, fantastic. If a little bit on the nude-y side. Yikes. Wha....? We also finished up the kids' Christmas shopping. Anyway, after that, we designated our remaining time to be spontaneous and unscheduled. I mean, how often do we get to live like that, right? So, we relaxed on the couch, ate some taco bell (glam) and went to bed at an acceptable hour. The next day we ventured out for breakfast at The Egg and I. (FAVORITE...you must go. And you must get the Jack in the Coop omelet...if you like avocado. It is to die for. And their breakfast potatoes are perfection. And...don't start talking about your favorite food at one of your favorite restaurants in the middle of Fast Sunday...) I don't especially remember all we did that day but I am pretty sure it was a whole lot of not much of anything. Anything outside the norm is an appropriate way to celebrate, right? It was fun to just hang out with nothing pressing. It reminded me of the good ol' days. :)
Though, really, those days surely held their own glory but can it really get better than sharing a home and a family and the crazy life that all of that brings with your best friend? I think not. We do have plenty of good ol' days to look back on with much fondness and amusement. But I try to not ever lose sight of the fact that we are living the dream right now, today. I try to keep that in mind and not just go through the motions. It happens, of course. Maybe more often than not, unfortunately. But, being fully aware that we have much happiness to enjoy and many things to celebrate about our union, I want to try to bring that awareness to the forefront of my days.

Here are some pictures of what the kids did while we went about our weekend!

Gingerbread Houses!
(aka why a Saturday with Grandma is cooler than a Saturday at our house haha)

Aren't they cute? That is how I remember making gingerbread houses growing up. Graham crackers and m&m's, etc. I love it!


Back to us boring old people, there is so much to look back on that led up to JC and I getting married. My mind travels back to the earlier years of our friendship often. And even when I'm not feeling especially articulate (like today), I still like to tell those stories and reflect on the relationship we have always been blessed to have.
So, this year, in celebration of our anniversary (a couple weeks ago), I share a story from those crazy days . . .

The Firebird
Once upon a time, JC drove a sandrail. As in...a strange, self-built, non-car sort of car. I am pretty sure he had it when I met him. And I am pretty sure he is going to be displeased with my description of it. But I still maintain that I can only write according to my experience.

(JC, Mason, and JC's brother Chris in/on the sandrail. JC told me that I'm not allowed to comment on the style of shirts they are all wearing.)

After I had known him about a year and our relationship was solidified into some form of sibling-like closeness with occasional flirting (if that description is even appropriate), he sold the sandrail and bought a '91 Pontiac Firebird. Red.

The first time I saw him drive it was to the surprise birthday party we had all arranged for him at our friend, Kevin's house. Kevin had a good party house. So, there he was, suddenly 18 and super awesome. Because, if you will recall, if you are a boy in your late teens, there are few things that would make you more super awesome than a red sports car. Only having a really cute girlfriend and/or a mom who makes really good food can provide near as many super awesome points. JC happened to have that mom (I want her turkey rolls on a daily basis...especially right now) and he also happened to have me...maybe I wasn't his girlfriend and maybe I wasn't really really cute...(Though, let's be honest, once we're in our late twenties, after having a few kids and attempting to keep up a household for a few years, with or without makeup...with or without a bra some of the time...who said that?...when looking back at seventeen, I really think most of us can say with some gumption that we were pretty darn cute!)...but nevertheless, he did have me and I like to think I played something of a part. :)
Where were we? Oh yeah...super cool JC. So, he has his new vehicle and is reveling in the charm of the new vehicle. I was barely driving...late bloomer when it came to that...and scared to death of the whole thing. Even though it is second nature now, I can really still remember how terrifying driving was. I still find it quite understandable. (Laura.) And I was a very very nervous driver, which never put much confidence in the hearts of my passengers (I did have a permit) But, even though I was terrified and inexperienced and his car was super awesome and brand new to him, somehow I ended up driving it around the block.
I must have been even cuter than I remember...
Anyway, it was a small thing. But we both remember it with fondness. It was the first time I was exposed to JC-the-teacher. He is an amazingly patient and charming man when he goes into teacher mode. Well, he is those things most of the time anyway, but JC-the-teacher is a very intensified version of all his good personality traits. And, for him, I can't for sure say what the pull to that particular piece of our past is, but I can guess that spending some one-on-one time together was as nice for him as it was for me.
I can't leave out the part of the story that lives most infamously...the wrath JC got to deal with when we got back to the party and Mason had realized what had happened. Not only was his best friend out driving around with his barely-ex-girlfriend (who doesn't even really drive) but apparently it had already been established that, next to JC, he would be the first one to drive the new Firebird. I had manged to get myself in the middle of some sort of brotherhood pact and it wasn't the most comfortable evening from there on out.
It all sounds so silly now.
And we all, even Mason, found it all pretty funny back then. (Well, it might have taken him a few days)

(JC and Mason in front of the subject of all the hullabaloo...glad it was all about the car, not me, right? ...anybody? This was actually taken right before homecoming when JC and I went together. Mason went with a friend of ours, Laura.)

But, that is one of my favorite things about sharing a long history together. So many of our stories are nothing but silly tributes to the things we do and experience when we're teenagers. It's fun to be present in each others' memories.
Anyway...skipping forward a year and a half or so from that night, JC left on his mission to Pocatello, Idaho. For me, it was this weird, ripping my heart from my chest kind of feeling. It was this not knowing how to breathe feeling. It was this desiring to put on my running shoes and sprint up to Idaho feeling. It was this 'why do I feel this way about being apart from someone I am just friends with' feeling. Especially considering I was madly in love with someone else at the time, as was he.
It's a little easier to understand now.
But, in my grasping for any closeness I could possibly feel to my just friend two states away, I found myself wanting to do a very silly thing. A thing that my dad tried repeatedly to talk me out of. A thing that even I knew was a bit extreme and really not very self-serving. Well, except that part of me that felt like I was sinking in quick sand without him. Yeah, except that part.
I wanted to buy that '91 Pontiac Firebird. Red.
After all, it was super awesome.
And, to my credit, I did once read somewhere that the color red has been proven to induce impulse buying. On the flipside, I didn't even really need it (I had a perfectly good Dodge Neon, thank you very much), I couldn't really afford it, the oversized Thundercats sticker blocked any and all view I may have had through the very small back window, the supposedly amazing stereo system was so over my head I didn't know the speakers from "oh cool, a little hidden mesh compartment," and I couldn't climb out of it without having had a complete upper body workout (and stretch, of course) prior to driving it.

(In my memory, the Thundercats sticker is much, much larger.)

I had to have it.
And have it I did.

(The picture JC's dad took of me driving away in the car to send to him.)

And...it gave out slowly but surely over the next couple of months. JC maintains complete innocence over this.
"Your car almost killed me like, three times this week," I wrote to him.
"You aren't treating her right," he said, in a letter home to me.
"Your brother told my brother that she was a piece of crap I shouldn't have bought the day after I did so," I said in a letter up north to him.
"I had no idea anything was wrong, I swear. Don't get rid of her," he said.
"I'll let my brother drive her if she is salvageable. I'm done with her and her near-death experiences. I'm going to get a Kia," I said.
"Andrew and I can race when I get back and buy a new one. Kias are girl cars" he said.
"You're a girl car," I said. (comebacks were never my strong point)

The Firebird lasted maybe a few more months around our house...after that, I'm really not entirely sure what happened to the old girl. I wouldn't be surprised if my dad drove it out to the desert and lit it on fire himself. All I know is I did get that Kia, we kept writing letters to each other, and the red Firebird will always hold fond sentiments for us.
It sits in the background of many-a-memory.
These days, it's been replaced by a minivan. Silver.
Luckily, whatever else sits in the background and fades in and out, we have continued to be in the forefront of all that each of us experience.
And I still can't breathe when he's gone. Whether it's because I miss him or because the stress of orchestrating our children by myself gets a little intense...no matter. :) Either way, it means we are better together.
In every way.