5 years

Dave and I usually don't get super excited about our wedding anniversary. We'll maybe go out to dinner, but that's about it. Perhaps it's because we've been together for what feels like forever (11 years of couplehood, since our junior year of high school) and we're already old and curmudgeonly - in a very much in love and happy, settled way. But this year was a pretty special milestone: 5 years of marriage and a kiddo on the way. So we took a long weekend and finally ferried ourselves to the San Juan Islands.

Ferry rides make me feel like I'm five years old. I love everything about them - I love finding a quiet spot away from all the people and standing with the wind in my face. I love the twisted piles of fat rope. I love watching for otters and birds. I love getting a soft, salty pretzel from the cafeteria (Although sadly, the pretzel case was out-of-order this time. I wanted to cry.)


We stayed on Orcas Island at a little place called Pebble Cove Farm. Our room opened right up to a gorgeous grassy expanse facing the water. Chickens roamed freely, and you could even gather fresh eggs in the morning to cook for your breakfast. I really wish I liked eggs - the thought of cooking up the freshest egg you can imagine, still warm from the hen, is just so wonderful.



They also had some goats, a pony, and a beautifully maintained garden that was open to picking as you pleased, though not much was quite ready for harvest quite yet after our cool spring. It really was a fantastic little place to stay, and seemed especially friendly to kids and dogs.

We hiked and explored, and ate and ate and ate. When it was all over, I felt like we had been gone for a week. The best kind of vacation ever.

I'm looking forward to what the next years bring for us, as a couple, as a family. It struck me, at some point, that this was our last real vacation as kidless couple. Well-meaning people, strangers, even, tell us how much things will change (you know, just in case we weren't aware).

Yes.
Change is the one thing I have come to depend on.
And things will change in ways that we cannot even fathom.
(I am afraid, excited, terrified, delighted, anxious, happy.)

But we will learn this slow, awkward dance just as we have every other awkward dance (fast-rewind 11 years to junior prom. Talk about awkward...). And while this time it might be slower than ever, with more shuffling and fumbling around, and maybe even some panicked flailing of the arms, I'm so grateful to have a partner to stumble through the often-graceless moves of parenthood with me. We make a pretty darn good team, flailing arms and all.