Ten years. Our first major milestone since getting married and it seemed worthy of celebration. At first, we decided upon a trip and I’ve long been obsessed with Nepal. But since we don’t have $10,000+ to drop (though this REI trip is still at the TOP of my bucket list), we decided we’d go to Mexico when my childhood BBF Allison announced she was getting married next month. But then we subscribed to every fare alert out there and realized we just couldn’t afford it right now (sob) and so here we are in Denver.
I had grand plans leading up to our anniversary that included a 10-day countdown with notes and presents. I did something similar our first Christmas together but then everyone got sick (including myself late last week) so survival became the new celebration standard.
Oh, how the great have fallen.
But it was still memorable. Jamie’s sister Lisa generously took the kids so we had a full night and Jamie plotted to take us to the Briarwood Inn restaurant, where he originally popped the question. The second time, that is. Though I said “yes” the first time, a girl dreams of her engagement and getting proposed via email just ain’t it.
I’d been battling a cold for a couple of days and an hour before we were supposed to leave, I–fresh from a shower and still in my bathrobe–took one look at our warzone-of-a-house (three weeks of illness will do that) and started cleaning. And cleaning. I figured Jamie could just take the kids over to Lisa’s at 4:45 p.m. and I could leisurely get ready–after all, our reservation wasn’t until 6:15 p.m. Ten minute before he was supposed to leave, Jamie came upstairs and freaked out. “Why are you not ready? We have to leave! You are coming with me to drop off the kids so get dressed and put on your make-up, NOW!”
I knew something was up so begrudgingly went to get ready. A few minutes later, I heard him call, “We have to go!” I raced downstairs, flew out the door and there was my white chariot! 
My sweet husband had recreated our engagement night to the fullest, even renting a limo that he had scored for $60 via Living Social.
The kids were out. Of. Their. Gourd. I was so excited he had the foresight in his planning to have the limo take them to their sleepover at Aunt Lisa’s, grab her and even loop around the block. He left no stone unturned and had brought Sparkling Apple-Pomegranate Martinelli’s and put together a CD of our favorite songs including our wedding song, Sting’s “When We Danced.” 
“No wonder Daddy was so bossy trying to make you get ready!” Hadley mused as she stretched herself out in her seat, settling into a life she thinks she was born to live. Bode was darling. “This is 1X better than the WiiU!” he exclaimed.
We’re still working on multiplication but I gave him the benefit of the doubt that he meant at least 2X better.
“If I sold cookie dough, I would have ridden in this!” he continued. I didn’t pursue this one, either. It’s a sore subject in our house that I refuse to sucker our friends into buying the school’s sub-par cookie dough and instead write them a check. A check not big enough for the grand prize of riding in a limo.
As the kids bounced around from seat-to-seat, Jamie and I cuddled up, reflecting upon this beautifully imperfect life we’ve been fortunate to build and how much it has changed in 10 years. After dropping off the kids, Jamie had mapped out a long detour that stretched along the foothills that were on pink fire that evening. I marveled that these landscapes had been so foreign to me during that first limo ride and now I knew every trail and climb. Quite simply, they are home.
Upon arriving at the Briarwood Inn, I noticed Jamie’s car in the lot–a kindly gentleman from our ward had helped him drop it off earlier (sneaky, sneaky). The Briarwood Inn is old-school elegance and one of Colorado’s finest dining traditions nestled against Clear Creek in Golden. We ate, lo did we eat. Beef Wellington. Extensive appetizer and dessert trays. We talked about our future hopes and dreams, past happenings, opened each other’s cards (I had mustered up a Top 10 List for him) and the whole evening was pretty darn memorable.
Late the next morning, we picked up the kids, Jamie’s brother Chris and Lisa and went to brunch at Tag Burger Bar, a newish, hip burger joint. Oozing with originality and gourmand fixings. I opted for the One Night in Bangkok burger with green papaya slaw, crushed peanuts, mint and lime Sriracha aioli while Jamie loved the Blind in Texas with chile-rubbed crispy onions, aged cheddar, chipotle BBQ. And then we ordered the five different kinds of French fries: Old School Russets, Sweet Potato (yum), Finger Lickin’ with Cheez Whiz and pico de gallo and then our two favorites: Duck Fat Fries with Tag sauce and their Truffle Aioli and Parmesan Fries.
When we arrived home, we went into a romance- and duck-fat-induced coma and called it good. Definitely good enough to hold us for another 10 years….
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 