Losing Together

For our anniversary, my wife and I went out to dinner, just as we had done so many times before a stork driving a Uhaul showed up at our house and unloaded a box truck worth of kids toys, clothes, furniture, bottles (both wine and baby), and other various items into our living room. After securing a baby sitter (thanks guys), we hopped in the car and hit the riverfront for some brick oven pizza and one, maybe two locally brewed beers. Just another reason I love my wife.

It was over crab dip and pita chips that I first peeked at my phone, positioned stealthily on the bench under the table. No missed calls. Okay. Maybe grandma and grandpa haven’t burned the house down. It was 6:14, normally the time that my son passes out in my arms on the rocking chair. I’m a creature of habit, and being out after work without my son was no longer habitual.

But I’m told this is healthy, the getting out and all. I’m told that we need to spend time together as adults. I smiled at my lovely wife, and took this picture. That way she couldn’t bust me looking at pictures of our son. We marveled at how the time has flown by. Two years already. And our son is going on 7 months. How did this happen? Well, I know how he happened, but the time, it’s flying… 

I ran into a friend and said hello.  And then another thing happened. I became one of those people… It’s our anniversary. First time away from out son. I love him by the way, my son. The other day he was in his jumper and I started jumping and he just thought that was the funniest…. 

“Wait, where’d he go?” I asked, coming out of my gush fest. 

“He wandered off when you were going on about how soft Simon’s feet are…” 

“Oh.”

We had a good time enjoying each other’s company. And we had a whole conversation about topics other than diapers or nuks or breast milk. We may have touched on breast milk, but still. As we were leaving, we noticed a mother with her child and I was struck once again by thoughts of our son. I could tell that my wife was doing it too. 

We climbed into the car. She mentioned getting into pajamas and I said something to the effect of us being losers. 

“I like being a loser with you.”  My wife said, and for a second I forgot about my son and enjoyed the moment with her.

 Me too honey.

Happy Anniversary!

Two years ago today, I woke up knowing I was about to make the best descison of my life.  Family and friends were in town and things were getting hectic with all of the last minute activities.  I had few loose ends to tie up myself before I could attend a 6 o'clock wedding.  My wedding.

The week had been a hazy blur of last minute errands. The temps were in the 90's and the Yankees were complaining.  At around 4 o'clock I was on the way out with two of my groomsmen when the sky turned black.  A thick glop of rain pelted the windshield.  I held my breath.  The trees swayed, flashing white as the leaves turned upwards. And then it started.  A beast of a storm emptied itself as we drove.  Not good for an outdoor wedding...

But just as quick as it came it was gone.  As we turned onto the gravel driveway of the manor house, the clouds parted, revealing patches of blue sky with time to spare.  The weather had changed its mind. Tables and chairs were hauled out, we were getting married.

We exchanged vows right on time and had a party. It was a wonderful evening full of family and fiends, smiles and laughter.  Even my brother behaved.  My face hurt from all the laughing.  It was a magical evening, and love was in the air.  But I still owe her a honeymoon.  We almost had one last fall but then came a surprise.  A big surprise. 

Now two years later we have other things to celebrate. We have a son…and he’s already a half a year old and he’s cuter, smarter, and better than anything I even attempted at imagining he would be.  He’s amazing….she’s amazing…even our dog’s are amazing….in there own way. 

I’m a very fortunate man to have her in my life.  And I’ll try my best to remember every single day of our marriage instead of just one.  Because I take her for granted.  I forget what a special human being it takes to put up with all my crap.

These days our time together is limited.  We have quick snippets during a nap or while he sleeps in the back seat of the car.  Sometimes we get twenty minute chat on the porch or a quick exchange while preparing dinner in the kitchen.  I admit that sometimes I put our son ahead of her, it’s just the way it works at this stage.  But I want her to know that she is the greatest.  She’s the glue that keeps it all together.  I’m only pretending when I say otherwise…

So here’s to two years, and then three, and then 40.  Here’s to keeping this thing going, to growing old together.  Here's to looking back at our naivety. Here’s to rocking on the porch, looking back on our lives and wondering who in the hell are all of these strangers on our porch before being told that this is a Cracker Barrel.  Here’s to looking back with wonder and asking where the time went.  Here’s to—you know what?  I’ll just tell her all of this stuff at dinner tonight.  Thanks for listening.