„Did you just hear him as well?“
„No, I’m sure he’s sleeping.“
„I’d better check.“
„And?“
„Fast asleep.“
„What time is it anyway?“
„Half past nine.“
„Should we…“
„…go to sleep?“
„You’re reading my mind!“
Sometimes, before we collapse into our bed at half past nine, I remember my friend Miriam’s advice from when I was still pregnant: Go out! Just the two of you, five course dinner, the whole nine yards. But then I was always so tired that all I wanted was to put up my heavy pregnant legs – and would promptly fall asleep in front of the tv.
Arlo is four months old now. On the one hand it feels as if the time with him is passing at lightning speed. Probably because our son is a human power bar. I’m going to boldly assume that his first word is going to be „faster“. Faster, Mama, carry me, carry me, carry me, now sing to me, sing to me, sing to me, Papa, I want to eat, eat, eat, eatsomemore, now carry me again, go, go, go. Even after he’s had to go through surgery, which he did last week, he’s still amazingly full of energy and cheer. He discovers so much about life that he finds absolutely fascinating every day that even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t find time to miss much about life without him.
On the other hand: Wasn’t there a time when I showered before 6pm? I’m also reasonably certain that I used to shave both of my legs. Seriously, a couple of days ago I simply forgot to shave my right leg. Forgot! I could write that I took care of it the next time I showered. But you wouldn’t believe me anyway. I also didn’t use to think that the elasticated waistband was the biggest fashion innovation of the century. Or rate meals by whether I could eat them with one hand.
Here’s the beautiful thing: when we sit together in the evenings, impossibly weary and with big bags under our eyes, I still wouldn’t want to be any other couple than the one this kid has turned us into. We didn’t know beforehand what we would be like as parents. Now I think we’re doing pretty well. Certainly we’re more patient and more resilient than I ever thought we could be.
But we were also pretty good together beforehand and I miss that other couple sometimes. So one night next week we’re gonna be those two people again, the ones that are more fragrant and don’t refer to each other as Mama and Papa.
I imagine our date night looking something like this: we will wear clothes that are dryclean only. We will eat together, maybe steak, definitely something that will require both hands and sharp knives. I will put on too much red lipstick and wear stupidly high heels, and after two glasses of red wine I will be so tipsy that I’ll want to make out in the backseat of the cab and let James totally take advantage of that. And we will stay out really late. So until about 11pm.
I’m wondering, how do you do it? Do you go on regular date nights? And how do you manage not to talk only about your baby the whole evening?
„The Castle“ clutch from Olympia Le-Tan | „Rouge Louboutin“ nail polish from Christian Louboutin, via The Corner Berlin | shimmer brick eye shadow palette from Bobbi Brown | „Orgasm“ blush from Nars | instant eye lift brightener from Trish McEvoy, via Liberty | „Le Volume“ Mascara from Chanel | „Teen dream“ lip pencil and „Lady Danger“ lipstick, from MAC
