After six weeks of allowing diapers and spit up to dominate our lives, Matt and I decided it was time to shift our attention for a few hours and get out of the house. The time for date night had arrived, and last week we left CeCe in the care of friends two separate times. As you can see, I somehow survived to type another day.
As you know, CeCe is in daycare, so a baby-sitter shouldn't bother me so much, right? Wrong. When the baby is in daycare, I am at work. A baby-sitter means I would be out of the house enjoying myself. What kind of parent does that? I was quickly convinced that a sane parent does that.
Our first trip out was a quick meal, just about an hour in an effort to ease me into the whole baby-sitting deal. One of my best friend's was the responsible party and I figured if not her, then who would I ever be comfortable leaving my child with?
When I walked back in the door and saw that my baby was not screaming, bleeding, crying or calling out "Maaaaa-maaaaa!", I felt that I could handle a little more time away.
Saturday night was a major event. Two of our friends, who happen to be sisters, came over to watch the baby. One of them is pregnant, the other is very pregnant. They wanted the practice. I was happy to lend my daughter for the purposes of mommy-training. She is a fine specimen of a baby.
Matt took me to a movie, the first I had been to since I was in my second trimester. It was a different experience since I didn't have to pee every thirty seconds this time around. Although that might have been because instead of the $12.00 large soda I opted for the $11.75 medium-sized.
At the insistence of our sitters, we even went to dinner after the movie. Whoa now- I know. Movie AND dinner? What had I done right this week to deserve such a treat? The answer was I had pushed a child through my birth canal six weeks ago and wanted a reason to shower the baby spit out of my hair for once.
Although my attempts to limit the talk about the baby ultimately failed, I have to say it was nice to just sit with Matt and have both hands free to hold his. 99.9 percent of our time is spent as parents. And while I know that license doesn't expire just because we are at a restaurant instead of in the nursery, getting out of baby-mode and getting back to the basics of us was more than nice. It's necessary.