We were married only four years ago, yet we managed to pack quite a bit of drama into the last fourteen hundred and sixty days.
The blessed nuptials occurred on May 12, 2007. Shortly thereafter, we closed on the condo, had a miscarriage, renovated the condo, had a baby, bought a house, renovated the house, and had another baby.
No wonder we feel like, "Hey we had Mairin three months ago and have done NOTHING since." Unless you count the scramble to prepare for Leighton's birthday party, the recent slacking is out of character.
Every anniversary, we pull out our wedding photos and discuss the fact that we had the GREATEST WEDDING EVER with nauseating detail. Then we relive our honeymoon in Hawaii and make the same wild claims that it kicked so much ass and we'll NEVER EVER dare take such an extravagant vacation again. By the second glass of wine, it's as if we're arguing with another imaginary couple about who's event was better.
I love anniversaries. SIGH.
This year, we thought it would be brilliant to commemorate another year of wedded bliss by leaving the girls with my parents to spend a romantic evening in downtown Milwaukee. It's a simple plan and, given the fact that Leighton loves her grandparents and Mairin is as pleasant as a baby could be, it should go off without a hitch.
We made a reservation at Bacchus, the restaurant where (after a meal that could only be described as gastronomical perfection) we decided that our rehearsal dinner meal must concocted by their James Beard award-winning executive chef. We have been there since - the food just as amazing and the service still impeccable. Why not play it again?
Ryan booked a room for us at the Iron Horse hotel. It's newish, niche and amazing. The smell of leather and aftershave meets you at the door of this boutique beauty. Deliberately exposed steel, brick and timber are glamorously paired with animal hide, Edison bulbs and Harley paraphenalia.
Here are a smattering of shots. We stayed in a corner suite with the layout in the last picture, which really doesn't do the room justice. I give it two Fussworthy thumbs up.
We were both so looking forward to our weekend. Work has been stressful, kids add their own brand of busy to the mix, and we needed a night to hang out and reconnect. This was a fancy little plan we could hatch - staying close enough to our babies, but far enough away to focus on each other AND get an uninterrupted night's sleep.
I can't frame up this game plan without mentioning the expectation surrounding the evening in question. Once I had kids, I started to see myself a certain way and I'm not exactly talking about a sexy, independent type-way. I grew accustomed to being covered in spitup, pulling foreign objects from the toilet and uttering the words "poop" or "boobs" several times each day.
That said, it can be fun to don the hot, bronze, metallic, textured-silk skirt and ruched black fine-wool top that finally fits post-baby and hit the town as my alter ego with my wonderful, handsome husband ... otherwise known as "Daddy".
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