I’ve been lagging on posting my anniversary post for several days now. Mostly because I wanted that perfect photo to go with the post and since taking a portrait together didn’t work out, I had to think of something more creative. Leave it Toby to give me the inspiration for this shot.

It’s our fridge. Our Norge that I bought way back in 1996 with an old roommate. We bought it used. I’ve written about it before. It was an ugly mustard color but Toby and I painted it red. That was before we were married.

The other day, on our anniversary—the twenty-fifth to be exact, I commented to Toby that our refrigerator sure has held up a long time. We’ve had it for more than ten years and it’s only broken down once. He laughed and said something along the lines of how ancient it is, even older than our marriage. We got a good laugh out of that, thinking about how our marriage is still going strong after nine years just like a Norge.

I don’t know what it is about that name “Norge” that always cracks me up. It’s just so matter-of-fact and unapologetic. Like the name Marge or barge. It’s not glamourous at all but it’s good and sturdy like an old refrigerator built to last. Which is sort of like our marriage.

I can’t even believe it myself that we’ve lasted this long. It was rocky in the beginning. I expected a lot and was never happy. When I think back on it, I was a real pain in the neck. A whiney, bitchy, yucky person to be around. I complained all the time and was forever moping about how Toby didn’t hold up to my idea of what good husband should be. I never even thought about what would make a good wife. I was so immature. It’s a good thing I was a lot cuter back then than I am now because I don’t know why Toby would put up with me.

As time went on things got so much better. We talk about it a lot. We were so different back then, opposites really. It’s not that I’ve changed him (though I tried, believe me, I tried) or he’s changed me but we’ve both adapted to suit each other. I never saw it coming. It just happened.

I think having Baby Bug was the turning point for me. I know that is sad considering that we were married for seven years before she was born but it’s true. I was always looking for a way out before she came along. I always secretly thought I could do better on my own. But once we had a kid, I stopped looking at the cracks and started trying to fill them for her instead. I don’t want to bore you with the lovey dovey crap but changing my perspective like that was exactly what I needed to do to be happy.

Now I’m so thankful. Toby could have been a horrible guy. I was so blind when I chose him. (Do you see those shoes?!! And skinny jeans were not in style in 1999. But please ignore this parenthesis.) I went from having all my decisions made for me by my very close-knit family to wandering blindly by myself, having no clue what decision to make. It was a scary time back then. I think I stayed in the relationship so long because I didn’t know how to get out of it.

It would have been nice if I had a more active part in the decisions I made back then. I remember going to a counselor during the months before we were married and going through boxes and boxes of tissues as I cried rivers over whether or not I should get married. I really didn’t know what I was doing.

But now, in hind sight, I’m glad I was clueless. I might have turned Toby down if I had a clue. I might have passed him over because he didn’t have a solid career or a plan for the future. He didn’t have a savings account, he had years of debt. He wasn’t from the same religious background I was from. He came from a broken home… He was a bad choice on paper.

But maybe there was some part of me that recognized that he is a good guy because now it’s nine years later and he is a the best father and a wonderful husband. He has a good job and a solid grip on where our future is going. Every day I’m more and more thankful I did stay with him. I love him more and more every year that goes by.

I hope we last for ninety-nine more years.

I came out to my car the other day to load up the trunk with a box of junk to go to the Goodwill and as I put the box down to open the hatch, I was greeted with this message on my back window. Maybe you can’t read it. It says:

“IF only my wife were this dirty.”

NICE! Nothing says classy like a nasty comment smudged into your back window. Who would write something like that?!! Heh. Even though he disguised his very distinctive writing rather well, I knew only someone like Toby would write that. That’s Toby humor for you. He probably got it off some car forum he reads all the time. He’s always showing me car jokes like that.

I know it would give Toby enormous pleasure to have me drive all over town wondering why everyone was giving me weird looks when I pulled up to stoplights. Yeah. That was not going to happen. I immediately decided the trip to the Goodwill could wait and hollered out to Baby Bug that it was car-wash time!

This is something fun we’ve never done before: wash the car. What a novelty! We usually shell out the bucks for the fancy car wash. Mostly because they vacuum and it’s just plain easier. When you have a toddler in tow, vacuuming out all the goldfish cracker crumbs is not something you want to do when you live in the city and there are cars whizzing down your alley about to smash into you any minute.

Yesterday, our neighbor was at work so I pulled the car into her carport and got to washin’. Or rather I got Baby Bug to washing. She LOVED it! What’s more fun than water outside with bubbles and the CAR?!! Wowie zowie! Maybe we can wash the house next, Mom?

She was really good at the bucket-filling part which was essential since our little garden hose did not quite reach to the back of the car—yet another reason why we usually go to the fancy car wash. But times are tough lately and even though I know saving eight bucks on a car wash isn’t really going to make much of a dent in my budget, it was something fun to do together.

I know these pictures aren’t very smiley but I assure you it was loads of fun. It reminded me of being a kid myself. My brother and I used to wash our parents’ car for fun all the time in the summer. There is nothing like a good old-fashioned game of squirt-each-other-to-death over the hood of a car. I have many memories of crouching low by the wheels only to be pelted over the head with bucket full of suds from above. Good times, I tell you, good times. Of course that was back in the good old days before the neighbors called the cops on each other for over-watering the cement lawn.

The car is clean now! Toby ought to be happy. Or maybe he’d rather I went and rolled in some mud.

It’s good to have Toby back so now we can get back to our normal routine around here. HA ha hahahahah! What normal routine? Just kidding. It is really good to have him back though.

I don’t think Baby Bug has shut up for one minute since he has been home. I think she saved up every bit of information that happened over the two-week span that he was gone and is now trying to tell him all about everything. When she catches her breath and forgets what she was talking about, she’ll just start rattling off about whatever she sees. (I wonder where she gets that from?)

“Daddy. Did you know that the light is bright? See the light? See the light?! That light up there on the ceiling? And the heater, it has polkadots on it. It’s warm and cozy. I like to sit by it when I’m cold. And Pouncy-wounce, he is the cat. I lub Pouncy-wounce. He had the sneezy-sneezes… He had to go to the cat doctor and get a bandaid.” etc. etc. etc.

And on and on and on she goes until she falls asleep mid-sentence. I love that she is a chatterbox but it just cracks me up sometimes. I remember driving around in the car with her and talking to her non-stop when she was little little. She would just look at me and suck away on her pacifier and I would wonder what it would be like to have her talk back to me someday. Well, I wonder no more. Now I can hardly get a word in edgewise.

If I do interrupt her, she furrows her eyebrows at me and glares at me as if to say, “Mommy you’re getting me off track. Please be quiet so I can finish my train of thought.” If I ignore her (which I often do since her chatter is so endless it can blend in like white noise after a while) she will poke me and yell, “Mommy! Hear me!”

Oh, my little dear child with the voice of a very large lion.

Toby is finding it all very charming. But then he’s only been home for a day. I give him a week and he’ll closing his office door again. It’s kind of hard to get work done when you have a running commentary going on all day long. Good thing we’re heading out to the sticks on Thursday to get ready for my nieces tenth birthday party. I think by then Toby might need a little break!

Flashlight from secretagentjo on Vimeo.

Here’s a little taste… though she toned it down a bit for the camera. Also, I apologize for the wobbliness. Bad camera holding. I know.