Reality Check

On friday night Andria and I went out to eat at our favorite local Italian restaurant. Earlier in the day Andria pointed out that it was our six year anniversary, not of of being married mind you but of dating. I do not know how i am supposed to remember these things. I do recall that on a fateful February night six years ago, I told Andria that, “ if we kissed it would be all over.” I was right.
That kiss lead to three months of dating. The three months of dating lead to a ten day visit in Alaska Where i was working for the summer. I realized in a tent in Talkeetna that she was the one. I cried when she went home and i called every night. Sometimes we talked for twelve hours at a time. After a few life changing phone bills, i gave up my end of the summer bonus and went home early because I couldn’t stand being away from her.
An Engagement in the Oakland airport and a dance in Pac Bell Park after a Giants game lead to driving home in time for fall semester and my A’s turned into B’s because watching Andria play soccer was more important then reading Arthur Miller and Shakespeare. We got married three days after graduation celebrated by loading everything we owned into a storage shed and going on tour. We spent the first three months of marriage crammed in a van with three other guys. I vaguely remember a small fight at a bluegrass festival in Fairbanks when i said i didn’t want to have babies for a really long time.
We spent six years coming and going. We went on weekend trips to Hawaii and cruises to Mexico. Camping trips in Zion and long trips with the band. So here I was six years later in a little italian restaurant on Center Street in Provo, Utah, and somewhere between the balsamic vinegar dip and side salad, life came up and slapped be as hard as he could in my face.
This was the last time we would ever go out on a date without worrying about something other then ourselves. From now on we would have to find a babysitter, pay a babysitter, and be home by a certain time. There would be no more surprise weekend trips to Maui. No more playing soccer on dusty backstreets in Puarta Vallarta. From this point on there would always be some mechanism turning in my mind asking, “What is the baby doing right now?” Some guilty puppet master pulling the strings of my conscious saying things like, “ do you really need another guitar Matthew? College is expensive, she really wants those designer jeans. You can watch Hannah Montana instead of the Jazz, Laker game. Do you really need to play a show in Ft. Bridger this weekend? “You can’t leave Andria and the baby home alone and babies aren’t allowed in bars anyway.” Actually I wouldn’t be surprised if babies were allowed in bars in Wyoming, but i read somewhere that second hand smoke is bad for babies, so no bars.
It seems like every time I talk to somebody about the baby they say something like, ” Enjoy your last few days of sleep,” or “ your whole life is gong to change.” I guess I am just experiencing a dangerous encounter with logic, but i am not all that concerned with the change. I have experienced a lifetime of adventures with my wife and now we get a new little companion. I do however have the occasional break down of nerves that one can only experience when they know that something irreversible is about to happen.
My nerves are all the more acute in this dark room at Timpanogas Hospital. Andria is asleep and can hear my little girls heart beat on the monitor. It speeds up every time I get close to the bed. I think she knows that her time has come and she is as excited as i am.
I like to think of her up there somewhere getting last minute advice, Maybe from my Father. I imagine he is telling her about this life, It’s ups and it downs. He is reminding her that her dad has a lot of imperfections and to that he might need a little slack every now and again.
I can see my father giving her a long embrace and telling her he is excited for all of us. Then right before she leaves he reminds her, Hannah Montana should never take precedence over the jazz and the lakers.