A Weekend With An Angel & Two Little Devils

Six years and two days ago I started drinking earlier in the day than I was accustomed to (except during the NFL season). I spent a lot of time pacing and humoring a handful of my closest friends as they cracked wise about me and the things that I would be leaving behind. It was my wedding day.

Of course, the joke was on the fellas, because the only things I left behind were freedom and fun. Ha, suckers!

I gained much more though, as is evident by the fact that I am sitting here writing this some 6 years hence.

My wife may have a different take.

I remember that our wedding took place on the eve of Mother’s Day. I toasted my mom and the other mothers present. I poured out a bit of my forty for those that weren’t. Somewhere in a trunk covered in tin cans and shaving cream sat a collection of baskets filled with bath, body works, and assorted foo-foo crap. The moms got theirs.

It’s fitting that our anniversary is closely tied with Mother’s Day. My wife, following 2 years of childless bliss emptiness, is now the doting mother of two little boys. We have a family, a home, and no wire hangers.

This weekend was our life in an emblematic nutshell. Friday, our anniversary, we took off for three days at the Disneyland Resort and their annual Food & Wine Festival. Saturday was a time of play. Sunday, Mother’s Day, marked the transition to parenthood. Three strange days for 6 crazy years. Two years per day. I love easy math.

The only thing different in this Reader’s Digest condensed version is that we were hounded by the kids throughout. They were not on top of their game. It was an exercise in frustration.

At one point I had to put Atticus’ sweatshirt on over his DadCentric t-shirt, lest someone actually read it and realize that my parenting credentials are about as valid as a degree from some med school in Mexico.

However, they did have their moments, and when they were hitting it was soaring over the fences. Kids have a way of quickly righting their wrongs.

A lot can happen in 6 six years and it has. It’s been worth every minute of it. I’m looking forward to the next six, and all that follow after.

There is something right about celebrating Tricia as a wife and as a mother in the same weekend. They are forever entwined. It’s a good thing.

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