Postponed Surgery & Nine Years of Marriage

I should have posted this weeks ago, but I haven't had time for the computer recently.  Ellie's surgery has been postponed while we do some re-evaluation of her gait structure (in Ameringlish for Laypeople [like me] that means we went to the Chicago Shrine Hospital for a gait study last week).  She is definitely going to have to have the major surgery at some point, but maybe not just yet.  The surgery on her heel will have to be done, but I'm hoping maybe not until the end of summer because she likes to swim so much, and the casts will be itchy.

In other arenas, Husband and I celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary on Friday.  Nine years.  We knew each other for nine years before we started dating, and now we've been married that same length of time (counting the time we dated, we've now known each other for 19 years), but the first nine seem a lot longer than the second nine.  You'd think people would get bored with each other after nine years - at least, I would, or rather, I did - but, amazingly, miraculously, we're not.

Family members and former DeMolay may not want to continue reading past this point.  Consider yourself warned.

My parents kept the kids Friday night so we could go to dinner, a movie, and have some incredibly rare grown-up time (I'm out of the house from 7:30am - 7:00pm or later, he's out of the house from 8:30pm - 8:00am, and if I'm home the kids are home.  If I have to work late, we sometimes go days without seeing each other).  We ended up with a funny sort of theme night, accidentally.  Dinner was PF Chang's China Bistro, I had Dan Dan Noodles.  Movie was Kung Fu Panda, and noodles are a recurrent theme.  Then we went home.

You know, when you've been with the same lover for an extended period, you learn his (I say "his" because I have a "his," but this goes both ways) likes and dislikes, favorite places and touches, favorite naughty whispers, etc.  Your body knows his, and you have a conjugal rhythm that you naturally fall into together.  After kids, which means a huge loss of time and energy for fooling around, intimacy does get to feel somewhat scripted because you always want to do the favorite things and have your favorites in return.  Which is not to say that it's bad or boring, it's usually fantastic (after all, you're giving & receivng your fave tricks), but it does lose the spontaneity.  You get to thinking, "Here's where I pull his hair," and, "Okay, he's going to bite my neck now," instead of going with the flow anymore.

So we get home after the movie, and I have mixed feelings.  On one hand, I'm eager because we hadn't had grown-up time for almost four weeks due to various issues at work and with family health.  On the other hand, I'm kind of suffering performance anxiety.  I want to be fresh and exciting, but somehow have to make sure I hit all the right buttons, and I don't want to follow the same old script.

I'm not going into detail, but I didn't have to worry.  I will say that we didn't try anything new or particularly adventuresome, but OH MY!!!  After a decade as lovers, I still had never experienced anything in my life that could hold a candle to what happened that night!  And I don't ever expect to again!  I'm surprised I survived it - I have high blood pressure now - but what a heck of a way to go!  Husband was strutting, albeit a bit stiffly, the next morning, and he had every right.  He was brazen enough to do a little crowing at my mother!

I was pondering the experience Saturday, trying to figure out what was different.  Then, I had an epiphany... I am 34 years old, and a woman.  I have achieved my sexual prime!  Merrowwwwrrr!  I am Cougarlicious!
I put forth this theory to my mate, and he laughed himself silly.  Ah, love.