We Put The E.R. in AnnivERsary

My husband and I celebrated our thirteenth anniversary this past weekend.

Budget was tight, so we planned a romantic weekend at our house, with the kids nearby at a close friend's.

All went well dropping the kids off.

We raced home like two teenagers whose parents were out of town, anticipating time alone. We picked out a movie on Amazon and cuddled on the couch. Around nine o'clock, we received a text saying that Opie and Peanut both had gone to bed without a hitch.

*Deep breath* 

Finally. 

After three years of no time alone, we had done it.

We stayed up until midnight, just because we could. Before I laid down, I put my phone on vibrate. I didn't want to risk being interrupted by a text or some silly Facebook notification. Besides, what were the odds that something would happen on this one night? And my friend had my husband's number in case of an emergency.

We fell asleep with dreams of sleeping past five-thirty a.m. for the first time in two years....

1:00 AM

*RING! RING!*

You have got to be kidding me. 

I could hear him wheezing and coughing through my husband's phone. 

I knew those sounds: Croup. 

We raced to grab Peanut and headed straight to the ER. 

I assure you, these photos are not edited, cold sore and all... Yikes. Happy Anniversary.

We got back home around three-thirty a.m. 

Now, one might think I would be bitter about the weekend being shot. 

By the grace of God, I was not. 

Though my anniversary was a bust, I was still able to realize how blessed I was.

Peanut's emergency was not life-threatening.

And at the end of the day, I was thankful that when the spit hit the fan, I had a partner to help me with it all.

My two kids are blessed.

I am blessed.

My husband is a rock.

And at the end of our crazy hospital anniversary date, I had Him to go home with.

And my heart was reminded of why I married this Man in the first place.

I love you, Honey. 

Happy Anniv-ER-sary!