My husband and I had our “Date Night” last night. We call it “Date Night”, but ever since having had children, “Date Night” has morphed into something completely unrecognizable; so far removed from the idea of the Saturday Night Date Night’s of old, that I think we refer to it as such just to make it seem as though we haven’t lost that one part of ourselves since becoming parents.
I remember when Date Night used to actually MEAN something- I’d get dressed up fancy (fancy for me is something other than jeans and a t-shirt, of course), fix my hair up nice, do my make up, and then we’d head out to a nice restaurant- you know the ones. They don’t have a drive thru option or paper place mats. After dinner, we might have even gone to a movie- one NOT G-rated, thank you very much.
It never ceases to amaze me how kids can change your life.
After Cameron was born, Date Night morphed a little:
~No longer did I get dressed up. Now, I just got dressed. Nothing fancy. Jeans and a t-shirt. But hey- there are some really nice jeans out there. Just because I didn’t OWN any of them, that doesn’t mean anything. If a super model could walk down a run way with a pair of jeans on, I could pull off my $15 pair I bought off the clearance rack. And who says that you can’t wear your maternity shirts after you’ve given birth?
~I’d fix my hair- usually curl it, but occasionally I’d straighten it. The point was to do something OTHER than the pony tail.
~Minimal make up. Mascara. Lip gloss. Blush. Possibly eye liner. Okay, so it wasn’t totally minimal. I didn’t want to look DEAD, though- I’m pasty as it is.
~When choosing where to eat, we knew it would have to be somewhere where babies cries would go unnoticed. And going to the movies was laughable; watching TV at home was hard enough- why would we pay money for THAT?
After Jacob was born, Date Night morphed even further:
~Date Night now meant finding something to wear that wasn’t stained- for all of us. Clothes without holes was preferable. If it was clean, it was optimal. Clothes that matched, however, was an option.
~I embraced the pony tail. After all, ponies like them, right? What’s so bad about that?
~Make up consisted of cover up, and that was it. With the amount of sleep I was getting, cover up helped with the black circles. And the crows feet. And, in all honesty, if I didn’t at least put on cover up, I might have missed the post pregnancy acne, and there fore, would have gone around looking like a Clearasil drop out.
~As for where we headed to after we were all finally ready, it was usually a place that wouldn’t immediately kick us out once Cameron started acting up, Jacob started crying, the fighting began, or all of the above. More often than not, all of the above.
~And Movie? As I said before, what movie?
Now that Nicholas is here, Date night has officially gone from scant to non-existent:
~Outfit- Pjs. The way I figure it, if it makes him think of the bedroom, that’s a good thing. On the other hand, if it doesn’t, then I’m just being prepared. Like a Girl Scout. Guys like uniforms, right? Or is that just the Catholic school girl thing?
~Make up- None. I’ve got 3 kids now- 10, 4 and 2 months. Make up takes up valuable life saving minutes. Like when one of them is hurling a piece of furniture at the other, getting all dolled up is using up minutes it takes to keep that furniture from causing a concussion. I’m saving lives here, people. I’m a hero.
~Hair- I’m lucky if I can wash it now. Styling is a foreign word. Besides, if I’m lucky, all the stress of raising boys will undoubtedly cause me to pull all my hair out, saving me hours of primping and loads of money on hair products. *fingers crossed*
~Restaurant- Che’ Home. Home is where the heart is. The way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. The kitchen is the heart of the home. These are not coincidences. And, as is the case for many families, our boys have successfully drained us as well as our bank account. We aren’t completely unromantic, though- the boys are in bed… most of the time. Dinner is only occasionally punctuated by Nicholas crying to be held… or Jacob getting out of bed for no reason… or, as was the case last night, an unforeseen diaper catastrophe followed by what will forever be known as “The Cheesecake Incident”.
~And Netflix was created for a just a couple such as us.
Look- we finally got our dinner and a movie back. A little unconventional, but I never said we were normal.