My husband and I have not been on a weekender – i.e. taken a romantic reprieve from our kids – in a little over a year. It has been a rough period in our lives as my first love, the man who stole my heart,Â my dad passed away in May of 2011. My dad was our go to sitter. We could literally just drop the kids and our dog on his doorstep sans clothing, food and any of their kidcessories and upon our return we’d be met with three smiling, well-fed, bathed and happy go-lucky creatures whose hands we’d have to pry from his staircase so that we could pile them in the car to go home.
My dad was as close to a living-breathing Santa as my kids could conceivably get close to on our Earth. He was that perennial force of laughter and love – he was their Mrs. Doubtfire, minus the wig and skirt. He was their touchstone and they begged us to leave them there, which of course we did on occasion with great pleasure and a feeling of total certainty that we wouldn’t be called at 3am by a child crying or that they were at an ER getting stitched up.
Suffice it to say, my husband and I are gravely aware of the fact that we need to find a sitter so that we can be alone, not just in the biblical sense, but alone with each other to explore adult only pursuits like drink wine till we fall off the bed, watch any type of movie without worrying a little person will surprise us with a nighttime bed visit and just be together as a couple, free of the constraints that having kids inevitably creates. In other words, I’d like just one night where I’m not expected to serve up a nutritious dinner, help someone pick out their PJ’s, read a bedtime story or have an existential conversation about the existence of GD. I just want a weekend alone with my husband, where we can talk, or just ignore each other and bask in the quiet blissfulness of a child-free zone.
Alas until we find that babysitter who is a mix of Mary Poppins and a grandfatherly sweet balding old man, I’m looking for any and all tips when it comes to creating romance with your boo – in spite of the small fact that your kids are in the room next door.