I went on a date with my husband last night. We sat at the bar on stools; my knees kept knocking into his because I bounce my legs when I sit. We sipped on cocktails and discussed whether or not you’re supposed to drink from the skinny little black straws or if you’re just supposed to use them to stir. We flirted and giggled, and you’d have thought we were on our very first date. You would’ve thought it was last call on a Friday night and that he would soon walk me to my car before we went our separate ways.
In reality, it was a Monday at 4:59pm. We met outside of the restaurant just minutes before it opened. We were the very first customers of the evening. We felt embarrassed at first as the bartender hesitantly moseyed over to ask what we wanted. Like do these people know what time it is?
We must have looked like children on Christmas morning, brimming with anticipation. That’s when he couldn’t keep it in any longer, and my husband explained,
“This is our second date since we had our baby.”
I recently read a brilliant tip on dating when you’re married: Instead of leaving the house together and finishing your make up in the car while hubby finds a parking spot, meet there.
So we did. I got ready at home. My husband left work a little early, and we met there. I got giddy and checked my lip gloss in the rearview mirror.
When we met up on the downtown mall, I felt pretty and put-together and prepared.
He didn’t know that just minutes before, I was wiping spit up out of my hair with one arm and writing notes with crayon for the babysitter with the other. He didn’t realize that I cried in the car on the way over because Leann Womack’s “I Hope You Dance” came on the radio.
Our date went from 4:59pm to approximately 6:35pm. I had to be back at the house to nurse at 7pm, so it wasn’t your traditional dinner-and-movie evening. But it was necessary and so decadent.
I think it’s vital to a marriage to stay romantic even if you have to piecemeal your way through making it happen.
My husband sent me a text after I left to drive home: “That felt like our first date.”
So, piecemeal or not, I think it worked.
Brett is a faith and lifestyle blogger in Charlottesville. She and her husband, Nathaniel, have one human son, Simon, and one doggy son (their “first-born”), Turk. Read more of her work at brettbattenbaker.blogspot.com.