At the Five and Dime

Our fifth wedding anniversary was two days ago -- June 1st, 2007. We had the wedding date engraved on the insides of our wedding bands five years ago, but miraculously, neither of us has ever forgotten the event. Actually, I haven't forgotten, and he hasn't had opportunity to, because I drop heavy hints for about two weeks prior to the event, escalating in intensity and frequency as the date gets closer.

Five years and a few months ago I was all about the wedding. My concerns were about the dress, the makeup, the hair, the flowers, the invitations, the programs, first dance music, cake, bridesmaids, and registry. A tardy response to a wedding invitation was enough to send me over the edge into insanity, and I fretted for hours about placing every single invite and its accompanying paperwork into each hand-written envelope in the exact same perfect order every time. I had hair trials, makeup trials, countless dress fittings, regular facials, fake nails, padded boobs (surprise!), and contemplated fake eyelashes.

In the end it was a fabulous day. We got married -- obviously -- but marvelled for days about how truly wonderful it was to see all of our favourite people in the world collected in one room, happy for us, happy with us, and enjoying themselves. I don't know the last time I've been to a better party.

The actual act of getting married in the shortest non-Vegas, non-drive-through wedding ceremony of the century was momentous, but nothing in comparison to the actual state of being married. Nobody tells the betrothed that marriage is work. Your troubles are his, and his are yours. In fact, his troubles often amplify your troubles. The troubles you share are overshadowed by the troubles of others. The happinesses that you share are also, unfortunately, overshadowed by the troubles of others. Small annoyances become major crises, points of contention, and full-blown knock-down-and-drag-it-out-sulk-for-days battles. Each difference of opinion becomes a battle of wills. Sometimes there are power struggles. Sometimes mean things are said. Sometimes a sulking Val will toss out the most passive-aggressive withering comment she can summon and dare him to beat it.

I've realized that in order for us to survive another 50-odd years together, some changes have to be made on both of our parts.

For me:

1. It's not always about winning. Let it go.

This pertains to several categories, including but not limited to:

• Laundry
• Groceries
• Housekeeping in general

2. Stop saying "nothing" when it's not nothing.

3. Don't always assume the worst. Appreciate the best.

4. Be happy with yourself, because he's happy with you.

5. Be happier in the morning.

For him:

1. Close the bathroom door.

2. Pick up your socks.

3. And underwear.

4. Pay me compliments in excessive quantity.

5. Remember that diamonds really are a girl's best friends... meaning that they do better in groups.

That is all.