Yesterday Matt and I came off of a two week stretch with the kids. In the last two weeks Parker battled a three-day cold, Ryen had a 102 fever, we hosted my in-laws for a week [which meant I disinfected everything twice so I didn’t look like a bad wife], trekked up to Santa Ynez twice, survived a heated argument about American Idol, and I successfully gained three pounds from dining out [and by successfully I mean pathetically].
I love the kids but when the door shut on their way out to school, I stood in the kitchen and heard angels singing Handel’s Messiah in silence. Because yes, after two weeks of white noise there was silence in the house.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halleeeeeeeelujaaaaaaah!
Matt came home from dropping the kids off and we almost didn’t know what do to with ourselves. He thanked me for being a good partner [and by good he meant ROCK STAR] and promised it would be date night if we got all our stuff scratched off the to-do list.
Do I hear a challenge? YEAH! I’m on it!
Here’s my day:
- Work
- Work some more
- Go to gym
- Work
- Eat (only green leafy things with low calories content because it’s DATE NIGHT)
- Work
- Tap dance and sing a show tune in the kitchen for Matt because everybody needs to hear Hello Dolly at least once
- Work some more
Tadaaaa! I finished and I was about to change out of my yoga pants and put on some makeup [at 5:00pm] when Matt asked what the plan was.
Girl Talk: Uh, it’s date night. Like, you know, bonding, a dinner with no kids fighting, maybe a candle, perhaps a movie, maybe a kiss or two. You know, “date night.”
Boy Talk: Yeah, um, I’m wiped out. Let’s spend an evening in, make dinner, and catch up on television shows we missed. You know, “date night.”
Girl Expectation: Me + House + Cooking + Television = Lamest Date Night. Ever.
Boy Explanation: Me + You = Date Night
In my yoga pants and makeupless face, I rolled over and thanked him for a great date night. And then realized I have a great partner. Even if he does hate American Idol.
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