Vol. 64 - Date Night Pt. 2
Now, us.
A few years ago, when our son was around two years old, Emily and I hired our friends’ daughter to watch him for a few hours so we could go on our first date since becoming parents.
As we were still unsure about anyone but us putting our son to sleep, we figured to keep it early; a mid-afternoon hang of some kind, the details of which have fallen victim to time and exhaustion.
As the appointed time neared, Emily and I got ourselves ready. We took showers (rare at the time) and made our best efforts to look sexy (even more rare at the time). We sat our little boy down and prepped him for the evening, told him that one of his favorite teenagers was coming by to hang out with him for the afternoon and that they could do whatever he wanted, up to and including watching whatever movies or shows he chose.
He assured us that he was ready.
Of course, the minute our friend showed up, our son became attached to either of his parents’ legs, suddenly shy, suddenly terrified of us leaving, suddenly disinterested in one of his favorite people not named “mom” or “dad.” We tried for an hour (an hour we were paying for) to calm and convince him that we would return soon, to no avail.
Eventually, we gave up, took our nice-ish clothes off, changed into swim gear, and headed to our local pool as a family. As our babysitter had blocked off the afternoon to watch our son, she joined as well.
So there we were, mom, dad, little boy, babysitter, all at our local swimming pool; our first official date since becoming parents.
It got a bit easier as our boy got a bit older and more confident, though I can count on one hand the number of times Emily and I hung out together in his first few years. Still, we managed to sneak a few dates in.
Then—as she did with all of the other routines we worked for so long to figure out—our baby girl arrived and threw it all into complete upheaval.
Back to square one.
Now that she’s nearing two (and, being a true second child, far more independent than her big brother), Emily and I are once again dipping our toes into the dating pool.
In fact, this past weekend, we hired babysitters TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW! The first time that’s ever happened.
On Friday night, my new band played a show. Though Emily used that as an excuse to take our son out on one of their now-regular dates (to see us play, of course).
Then on Saturday, Em and I went out alone to a friends’ farm where a group that included one of my dearest friends from New York City was hanging for a cookout. I brought a small selection of heavy-duty fireworks and drank way too much (a dynamite combo, no pun intended).
Though there were two days of hangovers to deal with—which is why I don’t drink much anymore—it was more than worth the price of admission to actually be out in the world with my wife alongside other actual adults, doing the things that we love to do with no consideration for the tiny humans with whose wellbeing we’ve chosen to center our lives around.
And while it’ll still be some time before Emily and I going out together becomes a regular thing, it was great to get a little taste of what’s to come, of what the evolution of parenting looks like, and of those times that so many other more experienced practice would return, “someday.”
What is the name of the new band?