Two Year Anniversary Dinner: Celebrating Us
“Just last night, your Daddy and I went out to celebrate our two year anniversary. It was our first date night since you were born. We got semi-dolled up, got a baby sitter and went to a fancy little restaurant to celebrate us. The us that we were before we were married, the us we became after our vows, and the us we are now raising a chubby, crazy haired little toddler…”
My relationship with my husband has changed so much since we decided to procreate. You hear people talk about it all the time, about how much a baby can change your life, but you don’t truly feel it until your living it. Before we had our baby girl my husband and I were your typical couple. We did everything together; laughed at each other’s jokes, picked on one another, went to the gym together, shopped together, cooked together. We were it for each other, we are best friends. We have a bit of a “Pride and Prejudice” love story, and from the outside looking in, we look like your every day happy couple. Now that we are married and have a gorgeous little chunker of a baby girl, our lives have completely changed. Our time together is much more precious now, than it ever was before our daughter came along. The only problem being, we don’t get a lot of it. We adore our daughter and all the new and fun things that we get to do with her, but our time comes far and few in between. We don’t live near any family members that can watch our little girl for us, so the “built in” babysitters we hear about people having are an impossibility in our lives. It makes it so much harder to schedule alone time for ourselves, but makes the times we do get absolutely priceless. Before we were Mommy and Daddy, we were just us; two goofballs who loved to eat out, listen to folksy music, and binge watch our stories on a lazy Sunday. So, when our two year anniversary rolled around we made sure that we were setting aside time to celebrate the us we were before we became parents, and to toast to the parents we had become.
Our anniversary fell on a Monday this year, so we decided to go out for a romantic dinner on Sunday night instead. When the weekend hit I was starting to think that we would have to cancel our plans, as our daughter had been home sick the week before. Thankfully, she was starting to feel better and I had dodged whatever her and all the other carrier monkeys at her daycare were spreading around. When Sunday morning came and we were all in good health I was excited I was finally getting an evening out with my Mr. Darcy. I’m not really sure why, but I was a little nervous about going out on our first date night together. Whether it was having to squeeze myself into a decent outfit or the fact that I was leaving my daughter behind, I felt like a nervous school girl. It’s been so long since we’ve had an evening out alone that I was afraid that we would have nothing to talk about or that the spark that we have always shared would not be the same. Either way, this night was happening and I needed to get my shit together so that I could look half way decent for my husband on our special night out.
I rarely get to dress up anymore, so I was pretty pumped about wearing something fun for him. I wear combat boots, oxfords, and dirty jeans throughout the week and look like a homeless person the moment I get home. I’m the kind of person who changes into pajamas the second they walk through the door. So my poor husband goes from seeing me in my tire lady gear, to a hot mess mom within seconds. When we first met I used to wear dresses, suits and six inch heels to work, so to say I’m quite the disappointment these days on the visual effects is an understatement. So, I wanted to wear a dress and get super dolled up for him, but it was freezing out so that just wasn’t going to happen. I’m not in my twenties anymore, freezing for fashion is just not an option for me. It’s why I have a closet full of fabulous coats, once you hit a certain age it just isn’t worth being uncomfortable for anyone. Let alone someone who has seen you throw up and push out his nine pound kid out of your special place. Anyhow, I decided on a nice pair of jeans (the only pair of jeans that fit me currently) a blouse, and heels. He was paying for dinner, so I compromised some comfort for him with the heels. I showered and even shaved bits of me that haven’t seen a razor or the light of day in months. Slapped on some makeup and said a quick prayer that all my parts would stay in place for just a couple of hours. I walked down the stairs and my husband and baby girl were on the couch reading a book. It was adorable and almost made me want to stay in and cuddle them instead, but our sitter arrived shortly after. After explaining her dinner and night time routine, and giving my baby a million hugs and kisses we started toward the door. I looked back and saw my schnitzel playing with the sitter, and she had already forgotten that Mommy and Daddy were leaving. She was going to be just fine, but was I?
It was like we never skipped a beat, on the way to the restaurant my husband and I were complete nerds. We listened to our wedding song on repeat, sang to every word, and held hands the entire way. I don’t know what I was nervous about, he’s Mr. Darcy after all. Our evening was perfect. After our first cocktail at the bar, we were sat in a cute and quaint dining room, had exemplary service, and if I hadn’t wore my pearls I would’ve licked the plate clean. We talked about the first time we met, our first kiss, our first apartment, and all the things that had to happen for us to become husband and wife. We toasted to our bond, our love, and all the coming adventures we would go on with our daughter. We were having such a great time, and I had caught the best buzz. The kind of buzz where you can’t stop smiling, and being grateful, and making moaning noises at every bite of food because it was so damn delicious. The kind of buzz where you feel like you are completely alone with your husband, but then quickly realize you’re not when you loudly say, “I hate that I had to wash that taste out of my mouth…” after taking a sip of your cocktail once you’ve devoured your meal. Pure class… Apparently, thats what happens after one and a half drinks when you’ve become a lightweight, but I was unbothered. Our night was amazing, and we both were wishing we could have a night like that every week, but we knew it was impossible.
Before we were even finished our entree’s we had decided to get our desserts to go. Not because we weren’t having a great time, but because we wanted to get home to our little stinker.
“You were already asleep when we arrived and we heard you were such a good girl. Your Daddy and I didn’t say it aloud, but we both felt like we could breathe again as soon as we saw you on the monitor, knowing you were only a flight of stairs away if you needed us…”
She was the biggest part of our celebration, because she is the biggest and greatest change in our lives. We had made it past all of our pride and prejudices about each other, our arguments about work, our family issues, our long distance relationship to creating the perfect partnership and bond to get here. A place where we count on each other for everything, put each other first, and love each other even when it seems impossible. A place where we put our family first, and steal small pieces of time to ourselves. I say we are perfect, but we are only perfect for each other. I couldn’t imagine going through this life without him. We argue and bicker, we love and live, we laugh and learn from our mistakes. We just work. Somehow, through the struggles of being on our own, so far away from our families and having to just figure things out on our own, we have become this force. A force that I’m so grateful to be apart of.
After our first night out together we were in bed, eating our desserts, and watching our favorite show all before 9 o’clock. Such nerds… but it was the best way to celebrate our two years together as husband and wife. We were fat, happy, and rested by the time our little life changer woke up the next morning. Now, we just have to make sure we aren’t waiting another fifteen months to plan another date night out. So, who wants to babysit?