Eight years

T and I have been married eight years. We sealed the deal on August 23, 2003, at what now seems like the very young ages of 24 and 25. Much has happened since then: three states, three kids, three pets, several jobs, a few houses, some ups and a few downs. Our lives are so utterly interwoven now, I don't think either of us can completely remember what life was like before we met in 2001.

We're lucky to have each other. To whom would I send i-phone pictures of my cat? Who else would laugh at my badly-told jokes and silly dances? I'm lucky to have him, but I make sure is frequently reminded that he is lucky to have me.

You get a mountain of advice around the time of your wedding, to much of which we nodded politely. We did get some good words of wisdom that we have lived by. My hairstylist told me to always value and celebrate your anniversary and to do something to mark its importance. She and her husband switched off years of planning something to do. T and I took that approach right from the start, and now I plan all even years and he takes the odds.

Pre-children, we enjoyed romantic weekends away. Some day I want to plan trips to Hawaii or Bora Bora. This year was my time to plan, and with Bora Bora off the table, I looked for something a little closer to home, but still fun. I like to plan it as a surprise to make it a little more memorable. We went to lunch in downtown Milwaukee, out for coffee by Lake Michigan, and then to great seats at the Brewers game. Perhaps not your average eighth-anniversary tradition, but just what we needed to take a breather from the chaos of workschoolkidshomepetsyardworkbills and remember how good we have it.

 

--MM

Memories from the ballpark

My hometown team is hot right now. The Brewers are first place in their division by nine games as of this afternoon. One of my favorite things about moving back to my home state is all the teams I grew up with are actually on TV. If you haven't lived in another state, you don't realize how nice that is.

It is also great to have the natural camaraderie of sports. It was tough cheering for the Packers and the Brewers while at school in Missouri in the midst of Cardinals and Rams fans. Then in Iowa and Oregon where fans of various allegiances could not relate to your Packer pride.

It's been a good time to be a Wisconsin sports fan all around from the Badgers in the Rose Bowl, to Packers as Super Bowl champs, and now the Brewers working toward a pennant race. I love it.

I have lots of memories tied up with Brewers games. We only lived about 15 minutes away from the old County Stadium. We would be listening to the game on the radio, and my dad would say, "Let's just go to the game!" Tickets were extremely cheap then, mind you, so we would pile in to the car and head to the ballpark. It was often a few innings in to the game by this point. We would buy nosebleed seats and then sneak down into the prime seats later in the game. We would eat peanuts and Dove Bars.

I remember scandalously skipping school to go to Opening Day and sitting in the second to last row. The drunk college kids behind us peed in the corner and their urine soaked my program, I vividly remember how disgusted I was.  My dad went off on them, "Do that again, and I'll put you in it!" he said. Good old Dad protecting his daughters.

Similarly, we decided at the last minute to go to the game in which Robin Yount could possibly hit his 3,000th hit. We sat behind a pole, but he did it, and I remember standing and applauding until my hands ached. It was exciting to be a part of it.

My sister held her wedding reception at the shiny new Miller Park's 300 Club. We took pictures on the dugout and despite being sternly warned not to by the staff, we sneaked out into the stands and slid down Bernie Brewer's slide. Really, what did they expect us to do?

From tailgating to wearing my glove to the game to getting Brewers baseballs cards from police officers, many happy childhood memories are tied up with the Brewers. Now my kids have Prince Fielder shirts and squeal when they see Bernie Brewer take his home run slide. It doesn't get better than that.

--MM