![]() No one told me that the traditional sixth anniversary gift was changed from iron to COVID, but here we are. COVID has ran it's nasty little germs through our preschool, neighborhood tribe, and my hub's office and finally, we have been hit. It started with a call from the preschool twenty minutes after I dropped my 4 year old off, "We are so sorry, we have had two parents call today and two kids in his class have tested positive so we are shutting down the class for the week." No big deal, he wasn't there the week before to be exposed to those kids. We went to the library and grabbed a Happy Meal and went home to play. About 2pm he sat on my lap and I could tell he had a fever. 102 and rising. Crap! This was it! Three years of avoiding catching this junk and it finally caught us. He tested positive and the next day my 1 year old started showing symptoms. Now, I am not sure you are aware, but preschoolers and toddlers aren't known for their respect of personal body space. My husband and I are both vaccinated but about the time my feverish 1 year old LICKED MY ACTUAL EYEBALL, I realized that there was no way the adults in this situation were making it out unscathed. Sure enough, the body aches, congestion, and sore throat came for both of us within the next two days. Which brings us to the two of us sitting on the couch on our anniversary, coughing and watching a movie after finally wrestling our two adorable little petri dishes into bed. Was it the way I pictured it? No, but it is an appropriate end to what has been an "interesting" year of marriage. This year we lost a beloved Jeep to a wreck, our two even more beloved senior German Shepherds six months a part, and a not so beloved uterus. Okay, losing the uterus will be great in the long run but it also brought 8 weeks of recovery and physical restrictions that impacted everyone in the house. It has been a rough year but there was also so much joy to reflect on as well. This year we have seen our baby boy take his first steps, heard his first words, and watched in awe as he made his first successful high level escape attempt. We have seen our big boy thrive in his first year of preschool, become the most articulate 4 year old I know, and laughed at too many Willy-isms to count. Our date nights are few and far between right now but our days are filled with so much life and love. It seems fitting that our sixth year of marriage ends with the entire family sick and canceled plans because what I love best about us is not the days when everything goes right, it is how we pull closer together when everything goes wrong, finding humor, love, and grace when there is seemingly none to be found. I am not going to say I didn't go to bed a little sad and disappointed that we were too sick to enjoy our anniversary the way we planned. I did, because I am human and miss time alone with my favorite person. It's just that I have come to learn over the last six years of marriage that the best parts about being married are often times also the worst parts. It is the hand holding yours as the doctor tells you there is no heartbeat. It is the encompassing hug and your favorite meal at the end of a terrible day. It is having someone to talk you down as you give a seriously pissed off and feverish toddler a cool bath at 3 am and wonder if you need to take him to the ER. It is making eye contact with your partner across the room as your preschooler throws his fifth massive fit today over some minor issue, and knowing that, even though everything is overwhelming right now, you are not alone. It is having someone there to bear witness to your story in both the good and bad chapters. For that, even through the phlegm and fatigue of COVID, I am truly thankful.
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