Date Night

by Patti


This past couple of weeks has taken me on an unexpected ride of revelations. My baby girl has suddenly morphed into a full-fledged little lady, complete with long legs, a defined waist, and opinions much different than my own. In short: She is growing up. And with that growing up, I have learned rather quickly, comes not only tangle of emotions that only a mother who has to come to terms with the gradual letting go of her babies can truly understand, but also the startling realization that: OH, YEAH. Once these babies leave? You're kinda stuck with that person you chose to be with for the rest of, like, ever.

When your kids start growing up, you realize with a start that they will eventually leave, and that all those what-feels-like-a-million years that you spent nurturing and loving and guiding and doing-for and being-there-for... well, those years have suddenly cumulated into this one moment, and you realize that they have kind of conditioned you to be a mother and think like a mother and love with the laser-like focus and intensity of a mother; and though you truly loved your husband through it all, you may have inadvertently forgotten to kiss him good night a few times. Multiply "a few times" by a million years, and that can equal one big, fat uh-oh.

All of these thoughts swirled in my already jammed-up head this past week, and, during a lunchtime check-in with M at work one day, I brought all of this crazy up to him. "We have to do it," I told him. "As much as I hate even the phrase 'date night', we need to start making them happen." He agreed it would be nice; though, in true M style, his idea of a date night was a week in Italy.
"Let's just start with dinner out once a month, okay? Just you and me."
I felt much better after our little chat. The kid was growing up, and M and I had the time and space between us that virtually every couple experiences after becoming parents, but plans were in place. That alone made me feel hopeful.

And then, like magic, a mere few days after "our talk", I got a text: "Dinner Saturday night, 9 pm. You and yo."  I couldn't believe it. I asked and I received. The night of our dinner, M donned a crisp shirt and cologne. I wore a black dress and heels. And we talked over candlelight (well, yelled, really. The restaurant was obviously a very popular choice and was jam-packed with other 'date night-ers'.) about stuff that didn't have anything to do with being parents, or bills, or groceries, or things that needed to get done right now or else the house might just fall down. It was just... stuff. The stuff we used to talk about when we were getting to know each other. And though our candle kept going out, and we had to keep saying "WHAT?" to one another because we coudn't hear, it was still really fun, and a really good first date night.

And as we, together, see our baby off into womanhood, and experience the bittersweetness of letting her go, there will be many more to come. Just him and yo.