February 28

This blog brought to you by my son, who is keeping his tired mother awake against her will. Hopefully a glass of milk, an iron supplement, and a blog break will do the trick.

February 28 seems to be our day. Two years ago it was something of a re-beginning to our relationship after we’d taken a needed but painful siesta. It was a Saturday and we celebrated by walking down to the Ole Cafe, our favorite spot, where we’d later get engaged. Our plan was to talk and read and study side by side the whole afternoon. Mike’s plan had gone a bit beyond that and when we arrived there was a beautiful vase of lilies and roses and an envelope addressed to me. A late Valentine, of sorts, since we’d missed Valentine’s Day for our little hiatus.

Can’t say I remember last year’s February 28 beyond that I was on the verge of mono and Mike of joblessness, and we were neck-deep and barely breathing in what they call married life. It was not the prettiest of times and our apartment was not the prettiest of homes, still full of boxes and mess untouched for all the college work to be done.

But this year it was a magical day. Our anniversary came and went with a little tip of the hat in the form of thawed wedding cake. It was delicious. Valentine’s day came and went, too, being the day before Mike’s recital. So we chose February 28 and guarded it dearly as “our day.” Nothing to do except nanny and then we’d be free by 8:00 a.m. A celebration was in order: Mike’s audition travels were safely completed and it was to be our last jobless, childless day. Ever.

We lazed around, Mike went to the gym while I worked at home a bit, and then we got dressed up and went out on the town. First to a sandwich shop for old-times’ sake – another franchise of the place where Mike worked before our town’s franchise closed). Then to get the greyness of our once-white car washed away. Then to see a new Matt Damon movie at the theater (the other love of Mike’s life). Then to the mall for an errand (ever the practical ones, we are…). Then to downtown Minneapolis, where we sat and read three chapters of Luke in Barnes and Noble and waited for our dinner reservation. Finally we went to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, where we’d eaten dinner alone on our wedding night. The meal was exquisite and compliments of my sweet parents’ anniversary gift. We split everything but the salad and left perfectly satisfied with half a cheesecake to split later. I read aloud from a book on parenting as we drove home. It was a perfect day of thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. We’ve been having a lot of those – that is, when we can be in each other’s company! I love being married to my best friend.

I daydreamed aloud as we left the movie theater about how great it would be to make sure we had one day every year to be all alone out on the town. You can hope, anyway. I’m reading a book on babies and the author is making the point that the emotional security of a young child is greatly helped by seeing the love parents have for each other. Don’t let your world revolve around baby, he says. Don’t stop dating each other. We have one more date planned – hoped for, anyway – with a $50 restaurant voucher and sights on another Matt Damon flick for the end of this month and then our baby will be here and we’ll have to start working a babysitter into the budget. I’m glad we had 14 months of marriage to ourselves to figure out how fun it could be.

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