The weather has done many interesting things on our anniversary--usually be much brighter and sunnier than our actual wedding day, which causes me no end of grumbling. But yesterday I had cause to be grateful--at least it didn't actually *snow* on our wedding day.

Most of the snow melted right away, but it's cold enough that some stuck around despite the sunshine. It's currently 29 degrees out there, and according to the weather site, it "feels like 17." I *really* have no desire to find out what 17 feels like, so even though I've been looking forward to taking Z to our baby sign class, I'm kind of glad it's been canceled!

On the other hand, we've already established that I'm not very good at sitting home with him all day, so I hope I can manage to keep us from going stir crazy. And I hope it warms up enough that I can go to Hot Jam tonight without worrying about icy roads.

It's been a really long and difficult week, but we are all back on track here chez Lanterman. Z is no longer sick, his diaper rash is getting better, and I am no longer feeling so much mommy FAIL.

Responding to those who commented on my angsty mommy post: honestly, I do get plenty of "me" time. If you're paying attention, you'll notice I dance about three times a week. Aaron is very good about making sure I get breaks and time alone. So much so, in fact, that I sometimes worry I don't spend enough time with *him*! (We're going to try and make up for that by having an actual date on our anniversary tomorrow night. rslatkin is coming over to babysit so we can go see "Coraline," in 3D, no less!)

(Also, I have looked into one- or two-day-a-week day care, but you have to register so far in advance--I've already missed the deadline for next September! Who plans that far ahead? By then we may have completely different needs.)

Q: Why did Aaron and I have two anniversaries this year?

A: Both of these statements are true: we got married on March 1; we got married the day after February 28. Ergo...any year there is a February 29, we get two anniversaries. Which is nice, bc while we like celebrating our anniversary, we also like taking it easy. This year we got a day to do both.

So for the first one, the celebrating one, we went to Agatha's A Taste of Mystery. This is a murder mystery dinner theater that I've been wanting to check out ever since we moved to Atlanta.

This was fun, but sort of a mixed bag. We were both expecting something a little along the lines of a traditional murder mystery, where everyone dresses as if they're in "Clue," and the butler did it. Agatha's writes an original script for all of their performances, and while this was funny, it made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Since it also included audience participation, I'm assuming their scripting values are somewhat limited by the need to get drunken mundanes to follow directions.

Everyone at Agatha's gets a role to play, with a line to speak when cued. I got to be "Paris-Britney Lohan," and though I think I delivered my line well, what brought down the house was when I was introduced by that name and stood up to reveal that I was visibly pregnant. Several other people were creative about delivering their lines, but many were under the impression that drunkenness made them funnier. Alas.

They also made a big deal out of the fact that it was our anniversary, and we were told to stand up and give each other a kiss that (since the script had a pirate theme) would "really float your dinghy." Well, you don't have to ask us twice!

The only real drawback to the evening was the acoustics in the room--it was a relatively small place with low ceilings, and it didn't seem like it ought to be much louder than a normal restaurant, but when a play scene ended and the next course was served, the noise level rose until it sounded like my high school cafeteria. It got to be so bad that Aaron and I would eat our course and then leave the room to go stand in the vestibule until the next scene started. It's a shame, bc I honestly think this would keep us from wanting to go back, and it really was a pretty fun evening.

Right, so that's the celebratory anniversary. For the next one, the relaxing one, we slept in, went out to lunch with elgecko at a wonderful European themed café called Café Intermezzo (discovered by myself and redofthedead the day we went for pedicures--they have crêpes!), took a nap, then drove to Alpharetta for a "March 30 party" chez slvr_starre.

Incidentally, we've been married five years. According to the all-knowing Internets, the fifth year is the "wood anniversary."

Aaron got me an iPod Shuffle as an anniversary gift. I thought this odd, because really don't listen to a lot of music. Now, as should be obvious to anyone who reads this journal, my life is not exactly devoid of music. But for all that I sing it and play (well, used to play) it and dance to it, I really don't much listen to it. I found myself explaining to a friend recently, "It's like the difference between owning a dog as a pet and having a seeing eye dog or a sheepdog. My music works." It's not that I find this a morally superior position or anything; it just honestly never occurs to me to put music on. And really, there's usually so much going on in my head that I don't notice the silence.

But to show willing, last night I spent about an hour loading what little music I posess (mostly filk and Renaissance music) onto the PC and then transferring it to the iPod. And made a discovery:

The reason I never listened to music was that I didn't have an iPod. This is what I've been waiting for all my life: music that follows me around. Oh, sure, I had a Walkman clone when they were all hip in the 80s. But you still had to carry all your tapes around, and you still had to carry a whole tape around even if you only liked a few songs on it.

CDs are an improvement, but I still hate fiddling with CDs and cases. Half the CDs in our house are in the wrong cases anyway, due to Aaron's habit of storing them in any case handy when he changes them out of the player, which only aggravates the problem. Aaron points out that this is because it involves clutter, which is anathema to the Girl.

Music without clutter: it's a whole new world. Turn up the volume, please.

When you make a reservation on line for Ruth's Chris Steak House, there's a little drop-down menu where you can indicate if it's a special occasion. So when we arrived last night for dinner, everybody in the restaurant knew it was our anniversary. When we checked in with the hostess, she looked up our reservation and wished us a happy anniversary. The waiter asked which anniversary it was. The manager of the restaurant came over to our table and thanked us for sharing our anniversary with them. It's that kind of place, Ruth's Chris.

And then there's the food. I'm not even a big steak fan, but the steak at Ruth's Chris is to die for. Seriously. Aaron got the petit filet mignon and I got chicken breast stuffed with Boursin cheese, and we traded bites back and forth while moaning in ecstasy. Quietly, of course. Ruth's Chris isn't that kind of place.

And, since it was our anniversary, and everyone knew it, we got a free dessert. It was mousse. It was cheesecake. It was chocolate mousse cheesecake. With a chocolate cookie crumb crust. And fresh whipped cream. More moaning ensued, then we wrapped most of it up to take home. We're still eating it.

I just got an IM from the front desk here at the office: "You have a little package up here." With a smiley, no less.

Sure enough, my delightful Boy had been and gone, leaving my anniversary gift at reception. A silver gift bag containing chocolate, a card full of sweet, mushy sentiments, and beautiful silver earrings, with a note: "The swirls reminded me of our wedding rings."

It's our third anniversary. We've been married three years, cohabiting for five, and together as a couple for just over six. Why, we're practically still newlyweds. :)

Aaron and I will have been married three years, come March 1. I've just discovered, somewhat to my bemusement, that the third anniversary is traditionally the leather anniversary.

The mind boggles.

I told Aaron when we got married that he was forgiven in perpetuity all Valentine's Day responsibilities, as long as he remembered our anniversary, two weeks later.

Roses, sent to me at work
A card
Chocolate
A Broadway play

Think he's lived up to the bargain?

A pearl beyond price, oh, yes.