Last night was our first date sans the Little.
I was actually really sad to leave him. His little chubby face probably withstood 37 kisses in 2.483 seconds and I fought back any ideas of tiny tears in the back of my eyes. But I had to hurry to that baby's daddy who was coming home from a weekend in Chicago. He needed that many kisses and then some.
Do you know that weird things happen when you become parents?! Suddenly a date of just talking and taking a nap sounds ridiculously amazing. Yet you want to cram a whole weekend of dates into those short 6 hours. Movies and dinner and shopping and talking and ice cream and walks on the trail and . . . and . . and of course hanging all over each other like obnoxious teenage lovers. Then the resisting the urge to look at your cell phone every five minutes to see if baby has had that inconsolable meltdown yet or how much time you have left before the girls explode from a superhuman, overproduction of milk. Oyohboy.
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Seriously though. Dating this boy is good for my soul. That's why we chose to start as soon as possible after Emmett was born. It reminds me why I fell in love with this boy and just how amazing he is. It reminds me how silly the frustrations are over that pile of dirty clothes in the corner or the three abandoned coffee cups in the back seat of the car. It reminds me that I need to get worked up over less and say 'thank you' more.
And of course I am reminded that this world needs more six second kisses in the middle of the mall, more wives dressing up for their boy and more husbands that are enraptured with their girl. Because although marriage is crazy hard and crazy beautiful all at the same time, it should be celebrated for the life-changing gift that it is.
The cute little people that are made are nice bonus too.