Thirteen years ago today, Stuart and I got married in the middle of Kansas. And today, as per usual, we aren't celebrating.
This tradition of not celebrating our anniversary is an accidental one, and not one we'd like to uphold. A few times we've managed to go out for a fancy meal at some point in the summer. But most years stuff happens to stymie us. Once Daniel got an ear infection and we had to cancel our plans. A few years in a row we were traveling for other family events (a couple weddings, a reunion), last year Stuart had to travel for work so we didn't even see each other on August 4, and this year he took the day off not to celebrate but to help out with the kids because Daniel had an appointment with the oral surgeon first thing this morning to have five teeth pulled. FIVE.
It's okay. A good marriage isn't about the wedding or the anniversary of the wedding. We're happy, and we're good for each other.
I'm used to this day not being special, and I'm definitely not the sort of gal who needs or wants to be peppered with attention and fancy gifts. But next year, we swear, we're going to find a way to celebrate for real, maybe even with a weekend away Without The Children because we've never done that before. We never even got to have a honeymoon (we were grad students - no money, and no camping skillz either at that point) so I think it's overdue.