Last night, for the first time in just shy of a year, Himself and I went out and I was neither pregnant nor toting an infant. Granted, I wasn't feeling well, so it wasn't totally all daisies and sunshine, but it was wonderful nonetheless. I had to refrain from skipping down the ice-coated sidewalk outside the restaurant as I thought of a whole dinner out without having to worry about whether or not Baby Girl's baby noises were going to drive anyone mad.
Here's where my not-so-maternal-instinct glowed in neon colors: I didn't feel bad about leaving Baby Girl with the sitter. Not once. Gasp, mutter and shake your head all you want about me not feeling guilty for leaving her at 11 weeks (I've had people tell me we should wait until at least six months - at that rate we'd all be in the looney bin), but it was a wonderful evening, and I managed to rationalize my way out of feeling guilty by making a list:
* Baby Girl's sitter will sit for free on Thursday nights if you pay on time. Miss Jan watches Baby Girl five days a week (more or less) anyway, so it's not like we were leaving her with just anyone.
* Himself and I REALLY needed some time alone, sans baby. A wild-haired, crackly-voiced, cranky, achy mom; bored-out-of-his-mind dad; The Hobbit Hole wildly out of control (more on that later); and the season's first snow - it's a recipe sure to entice someone to wring someone else's neck. A happy baby meant she was the only thing that didn't need fixing.
* Miss Jan is closed today for licensing courses, so I'm working from home - meaning I get to spend the whole day with Baby Girl, making up for the four extra hours we abandoned her for last night.
* We did go see Baby Girl between dinner, dropping the concert tickets off to the guy who bought them off of us and the movie. It wasn't so much the "oh my gosh, I haven't seen my child in hours and I'm going to start weeping if I don't see her" (remember I'm not instinctivly maternal) as much as the date was a last-minute thing, so I had to drop off one more bottle of milk ensuring she didn't starve (and she didn't - she conned Miss Jan into thinking she was starving to death, prompting an extra feeding - which she spent the rest of the evening burping up).
The whole night was magic - even if I looked like hell and felt just about the same. Himself was the charming, talkative guy I fell in love with. We had sushi at the sushi bar. We talked food and work and life and sports (his beloved Packers got trounced last night - too bad). We discovered a Spanish grocery and found all things (or most things) Goya - meaning Himself's Puerto Rican Chicken, Beans and Rice dish will be served tomorrow night, after six months of not being able to make it. We laughed at our obvious maturity as we entered the movie theater to see The Bee Movie (which is cute - and has amazing animation).
The best thing? Himself planned it. He decided on where to have dinner. He found the theater and gave me a choice of two films.
I might not have maternal instincts, but it was worth it for one night of remembering the reason Baby Girl came along.
(For those of you appalled that I would leave my child at not-quite three months, it appears any insult regarding being left with the sitter last night are forgotten, as she's napping soundly next to me while I type.)
2 comments:
Ummm...I left my newborn at just over three WEEKS old for a dinner date with Oliver. Granted, she was with my mother and slept the whole time, but still, you won't hear any words of condemnation from me.
I left Goose with Oliver and Kristin at less than three months to go downtown for a date which was like, over an HOUR away.
Post a Comment