Sunday, August 28, 2005

Happy Anniversary

After a long week of shots for the kids, turning in preschool paperwork, genetic testing results on me (longer story later), 3 nosebleeds for Nick, pink eye for Sophia and lots of interrupted sleep, James and I finally had a night to ourselves to celebrate our five year anniversary. Thank you to Cecelia who watched the perfectly behaved Sophie, as well as Mom who watched the always charming Baby Jaguar.

The evening felt forced at first. It was one of those deals where you wonder if all the headache of getting the kids to their respective places is worth the energy, only to pick them up 12 hours later. I was terrified Sophie would scream a lung, causing Bob to reconsider procreation with Cecelia. I was worried about Nick having a fourth nose bleed attack and passing out on my mom's ottoman. And most of all, I was worried I wouldn't stay awake. I have been off Diet Coke for one week, and my new bed time is 11 at night. For someone who normally can't shut up, my mouth now runs dry around 9PM. James didn't say much on the way to Beverly Hills (which is hardly new for him) but I could tell from his "no radio" and "no talking" posture in the car that this was one of those "We've got to go out, we never go out, but I really don't want to go out" trips.

I was determined not to argue. I was determined to enjoy my strapless dress, compliments of Christine. I was determined to bask in my fabulous hair that wasn't being pulled on. I had sixty dollars in my pocket and it was going to be spent frivilously on a valet, a nice tip, and bag of toffee peanuts from the AMPM.

We dined.

We drank non-caffenated beverages.

We half heartedly talked about nothing over mediocre garlic cuisine.

And then something happened. Right before the bill came. We finally unwinded. The hustle and bustle of getting there was over. Food was in our bellies. We didn't have to do the dishes. Dare I say, it almost felt romantic? With the kids sleeping at other people's for the first time in over a year, the night was ours. Would we sit at the bar? Would we tour Melrose? Would we go home and drink a new bottle of vino?

With all this delicious possibility, we opted for the very enchanting activity of walking around James' work. His company specializes in high-end speaker equipment, so to get to his office, you have to stroll through a stadium sized warehouse of machinery. Nothing says "Happy Anniversary, Baby" like the view of a 10 by 10 subwoofer grill. Walking hand in hand past the great sleeping machines, I had to admire how well James was doing - to keep all the I.T. running for this huge business. I didn't even go to the well of "why am I not as successful in my career?" I thought of my life rolling down those conveyor belts that spread out before me: sometimes it worked in perfect unison, sometimes it had breakdowns. But most of all, it was there... full of hope. And possibility. With all the wires of obligation and responsibility getting tangled in my own personal subwoofer of Andrea, I marveled at how anything gets done at all, but it does. After such a stressful week, I was absolutely overwhelmed at the good fortune of my life.

Then I went home and slept like the dead.


K said...

Ah yes. As a sister of your computer geek overlyromantic husband I must comment. I know that there is not a single wife out there that really has it all, but why does it seem like it? I'm over the fact that "life is not an episode of Friends"(direct quote out of my husbands mouth when I thought he should be writing me love notes and painting my toes several years back). So, why do we obsess on what could be? Don't get me wrong(this is the official disclaimer) I Love My Life. I am blessed. I know this. For the most part I am 95% thrilled 100% of the time. I just wonder, why do I sometimes obsess on the people who look like they have it all. I've gone from thinking romance is like the movies to being totally ok with how things really are. I guess it makes the few fabulously romantic moments that much better.

Diet Coke. I too have gone cold turkey. Be careful my friend. I was once up to 10 cans a day and went to nada. It wasn't pretty. I am now content with 2 cans a day and obnoxious amounts of ice tea. I am afirm believer in a little chemicals to even out the organic free range eggs I buy at Trader Joe's. AND..tell James "butthole" is a nasty term.

Mama P said...

I love you!