Date Night

15 Aug

Recently I stumbled across an article on why breakups are so horribly depressing.  One reason being the areas activated in your brain when you’re in love are the same general areas of brain activity that occur in an addict.  Yes, really, an addict.  That’s wild.

Another reason given was the fact that when one couple breaks up, it has a domino effect of sorts.  Did you know that your chances of getting a divorce are 75% higher if another couple you are close to splits?

That’s wild too.

So I was moved to plan a last minute date night.  Quick.  As in Thursday evening, I was making plans for us for Friday night.

When I was younger, I imagined marriage as this stifling place where Date Night occurred once a week.  And the mere thought of that gave me the blues.  If only I’d known.  Once a week date night is a luxury.  And when you have little kiddos, a funky job schedule that you can’t complain about (it is a recession after all, be thankful if you’ve got a job) and live life sans nanny (as we do) it’s hard to get a date night once every other week.  So we work on once a month (or so).  But back to school plans and end of summer family plans got in the way.  August had been left unplanned.

Until I read those stats, and reflected on how easy it is to get caught up in L.I.F.E. and forget about dedicating time to you, just the two of you, without guilt.  At least I feel guilt whenever we embark on a plan that doesn’t include the kiddos.  Perhaps that’s the pitfall of stay at home parenting.  You’re so seeped into the lives of little people, so enraptured by their awesomeness, so grateful for the blessing, that you (or at least I) feel guilt when you take time out for yourself as parents.  Of course, being a parent is just one identity among many, and being a spouse is just as important, after all the love of your spouse led to the beauty of your family.

So I called up our neighborhood babysitter, who was thankfully available last minute for a Friday night.  C. you rock!   And off we went last night.  Awesome Chinese at the River Market with a view of storm clouds rolling in over the horizon.  People watching over a drink at our favorite Italian bistro in the rain, under an awning on the 2nd story balcony.  After the hottest day of the year, a night in the breeze of the rain was so liberating and romantic…

Capped the night off with dancing at a local spot to jammin’ music by a great D.J., so good, we city slickers thought he must have been from out of town.  But no, he was a small town Kansas boy, who grew up hunting and farming (yes, DH did ask).  So, I learned to throw another stereotype out of the window.

Normally, I drink Guinness.  Unless it’s a fancy pants night, or they don’t serve it, and then I’ll have Riesling.  Those are my standards.  Last night, for some reason, I ordered a Cosmopolitan.  You know, one of those modern vodka martinis made pink by a splash of cranberry juice.  And then I had another.  Just two, which seemed fine at the time.

Note to self:  don’t do vodka, not after pot stickers and Gong Bao Shrimp…

My stomach lodged a complaint this morning at 5 a.m. and proceeded to complain all day long.

I was in bed all day which, if you know me, never, ever, ever, happens.  I’m usually up by 6 at the latest.

So much for romantic memories, right?

Actually…

DH got up with the kids (he’s a wonderful father, but early mornings aren’t his style, especially not on a Saturday morning), played with them, dressed them, took them for their back to school haircuts, cooked and fed them lunch, played with them some more, snack time, another outing, and dinner.  I do believe he even threw in a load of laundry.  Won’t know until tomorrow because I have no intention of thinking about laundry until tomorrow (except, I guess, for this brief mention in blogworld).

Yes, he did everything except dust the ceiling fan.

And date night ended up being 10 reasons why I love my husband, and one step closer to that 1 in 4 couples who survive the travails of friends breaking up, and one rare time when we won’t have to fight over who gets the leftover Chinese.  It’s all yours babe.

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One Response to “Date Night”

  1. Melissa August 19, 2010 at 4:34 am #

    Another great story! I loved reading about your date night. Thanks for … sharing? Seems a bit paradoxical to say that, no? Ha.

    Sorry about the tumultuous tummy. =/

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