In Year Two We Play.

Thanks to Dad and Patty who have always been very generous in more than one way in supporting my marriage, Michael and I "hit the town" alone twice in the last two weeks.

While Dad and Patty watched the kids, we went dancing at 80's night on New Year's Eve/our anniversary. (Michael is a blast to dance with, by the way. I have never had so much fun with a guy at a club). And this last Saturday we went to the Cheesecake Factory for an adult, quiet, lavish, overwhelming meal and the for a couple quick and dirty games of bowling. It was a blast. I rolled three strikes for my all-time highest score ever, which I won't share with you because it is really not that high. (Hee, hee). Michael, of course, beats me most of the time. I pretend it is because he has bigger biceps.

Oh to be a big kid again! Glorious...

When people called to congratulate Michael and I on our first year together - to congratulate us for "making it" in other terms - it took me some time to realize what that meant. Frazzled, exhausted and glossy-eyed, we get so caught up in the day-to-day of being parents and employees and house maids and whatever...Finally, it hit me: man the first year was damn hard. (That was not just hard, but damn hard - for those of you that didn't pick up on the emphasis). And now it seems so much easier. We even get some time out. It's not all work! Imagine that! I get to play with my husband? Play? What? As in the beginning, I am blissfully happy with Michael, but ironically, we couldn't have made it this far without the love and support of our family, without the people who understand what a "first year" meant for us.

Thank you family and sweet, sweet husband for giving us such a great life.