Last Friday marked the end of our fifth year of marriage, a momentous event we marked by actually leaving the house--together! Without Clara! (All of our "together" outings in the last three and a half months have either been trips to the pediatrician or excursions to the grocery store, in which I go inside the store and Jeremy and Clara cruise the parking lot.) Our neighbor, Ericka, who's in our ward, came up to watch Clara, and Jeremy and I braved the elements to go out to dinner for the first time in months. We had a great time; we ate at La Cena, which is billed as "creative Latin American cuisine," and I braved the Paella, which was really...something. I don't know why I insist on being quite so adventurous on the rare occasions we get to eat out, but I think I knew I'd crossed some kind of invisible boundary when this huge dish was set in front of me, full of shellfish and sausage and shrimp (which I'd expected) and also featuring four alarmingly large whole calamari. Wowzers. To prove what a good sport I am, I speared the smallest of the four and ate it, chewing thoroughly. Not to be out-done, Jeremy chose the second-smallest and went to town. The remaining two I stuffed into an empty mussel shell and buried in some uneaten rice. My adventurousness only goes so far.
While our anniversary outing was both pleasant and memorable, I'm more grateful for the countless other moments that comprise our five years together. We've certainly experienced a lot of life together in a relatively short time, as my mom says, yet I can't imagine anyone else I would rather have shared those experiences with. Here's to many more years of contentment and joy, made deeper and more poignant by the occasional sorrow.


