Wednesday, December 11, 2013
10 Years of Champagne
This has been our couple's counseling lately.
I never really drank champagne until recently, but now I think about drinking champagne all the time. I read in one of my "cooking novelas" (books that are primarily about cooking but are about more then just the food) that drinking champagne is the perfect blend of luxurious, celebration and acceptable over-indulgence. Forget for a moment that it is alcohol and think of champagne as a symbol for anything you find great pleasure in having just a little more of. That stolen forkful of cherry pie as you were transferring it from the table to the kitchen after Thanksgiving dinner. The quick second kiss that comes after the long passionate kiss at a wedding. The half mile you ran after your normal run was over because the wind in your hair felt so good and your legs and lungs were begging you to go further. The reason the Repeat button exists on your Ipod or Spotify screen... because sometimes you just need a little more Beyoncé.
Champagne is the symbol of celebration and special occasion, but in our home we have enjoyed it recently while we played cards on a Wednesday evening, while we decorated the Christmas tree, with Grant's parents over the heads of our children watching Merry Racist Christmas (the 1940's Christmas Classics Vol 1.. watch it, it is ah-mazing). Just the casual stuff of life. There is nothing so lovely as sitting curled up on the floor in front of a game of Rummy and realizing that the glass I was casually holding Audrey Hepburn-style in my left hand is now being refilled by my husband who got up to get the bottle and top us off.
And we shared a bottle this weekend while we watched the Good Wife and ordered the last of our Christmas presents online. And we talked, and we laughed and we drank champagne until 1am. This is wonderful news because things have been a little dodgy around here recently. Just the down swing of those marital seasons where everything feels hard and we have it the worst of every couple who has ever lived, ever. Sometimes something as simple as sharing a bottle of champagne can bring a bit of sparkle (forgive me) back to the routine.
Sunday we drank champagne and reconnected. On Monday, Pursy threw up all day and Grant got stuck at work until after the babes went to bed. Yesterday I ended up working a night shift instead of my usual evening shift, with no sleep beforehand and a 33 year old body that doesn't react to coffee as dramatically as I used to. Two hours into my shift, I got a text from Grant that Knox was now puking. I came home this morning and slept for 3 hours and am now barreling through a day, refusing to feel sorry for us.
Because we are lucky. When it comes down to it, there are few problems in our relationship that a $15 bottle of bubbly champagne can't fix. The hurt feelings and the grudges and the sour mood and the score sheet are just consequences of not spending enough time together talking and hanging out. Because when babes are puking and I am working at 3am and Grant's late bus means dinner is cold and rubbery, we are in this together. Just two best friends clinking glasses and celebrating this beautifully crazy life that neither of us could have imagined we would love so much.
On the days I think about my past life and wish I could just have one day of it- doing what I want, no responsibility of home and children, money to burn, making my own plans and schedules- I don't think about life before Grant. Because I was smart enough to believe him when he told me "There is nothing more I want to do that I don't want to do with you". And in three weeks we will be celebrating 10 years of doing things together. And we will drink champagne with some of our dearest, closest friends in our favorite city in the world while we celebrate our 10 Year Anniversary. Tell me I am not the luckiest girl alive. Look at this arm candy:
Cheers to us, Grant. We are fantastic.
"Come with me, and together, we can take the long way home." -TW