The number of times Madison has spent the night away from us
the last two years could be counted using two hands as it isn’t very often that
all three of us aren’t together once the sun comes to rest over the
horizon. Rarely do Allison and I share a
meal at a restaurant without requesting a booster seat and a children’s
menu. We spend the first few minutes digging for crayons and making
sure Madison is situated. A routine that has evolved from the beginning
stages of carriers and high chair configurations, a routine that has become
second nature. Normal. Something we will find ourselves missing several years from now,
I’m sure.
Sometimes though, it’s nice to have a conversation with your
wife uninterrupted with pleas for help finding a rogue corn kernel that
plummeted from a toddler fork during a shaky journey from plate to mouth… also
known as an all hands on deck recovery mission through a bib or lap that ends
buried in a napkin. Sometimes it’s nice
to have a conversation with your wife in complete sentences instead of
fragments with inserted phrases of don’t
put that in your hair or don’t play
with your food or small bites, chew
with your mouth closed. Sometimes
it’s nice to look across a candlelit table and see the woman you love as your
wife instead of the mother of your child.
Thoughts I often feel guilty for thinking, but find myself coming back
to. While we love Madison with every
part of our existence, it’s okay to have a meal without her once in a great while. It’s okay to spend time as husband and wife versus
always being the parents. It’s okay to
feel this way and to acknowledge it.
It’s okay.
Epiphanies I struggled coming to terms with until now.
The other night we had reservations for two at eight o’clock to celebrate our anniversary, the last five years we spent adding to our collection of little moments that make up our lives together. It was nice to hold hands, to have an adult conversation between just the two of us, to share our dreams and goals both old and new, to show our hearts to one another in a setting other than nightly pillow talk before we give in to the exhaustion from a week of day-to-day life.
The other night we had reservations for two at eight o’clock to celebrate our anniversary, the last five years we spent adding to our collection of little moments that make up our lives together. It was nice to hold hands, to have an adult conversation between just the two of us, to share our dreams and goals both old and new, to show our hearts to one another in a setting other than nightly pillow talk before we give in to the exhaustion from a week of day-to-day life.
It was nice.
Allison and I always agree to implement some sort of date
night into our routine at least once a month in effort to recreate this moment. The kind of moment where we check in with
each other sans child and refocus ready to take on the world together. Yet somehow we always find our house unsettlingly
quiet when Madison stays a night away from us and once she returns home
again we seem to forget that little agreement until our next anniversary rolls
around… 365 days later. That's okay, too.
Until then, it’s a table for three because I know a day is
coming when Madison will not want to spend as much time with us as she does
currently. I know there will come a day,
probably sooner than I realize, where Madison will have a date night of her own
leaving her mother and I to share a meal without her whether we want to or not.
Of course, dating won’t
be allowed until she’s 25 so we have a little
time to work with.
We also tried to institute date night once a month. Fell by the wayside. And then you know, like you said, "365 days later" happens. You're so right that pretty soon, they won't want to go out to dinner with us.
ReplyDeleteSometimes it can be really difficult to maintain that balance. How sad will that day be when we discuss dinner options and she informs us she already has plans... I can't even think about it.
DeleteWhen we lived in Greenville, we had date night almost every weekend. The grandparents all loved having the kids for a night, and we loved the chance to catch our breath, or a meal, or a movie, or a local band.
ReplyDelete