Sunday, March 27, 2011

date night with my sweetie

Spring break is winding down, and tomorrow it's back to work.  The days left with my students are limited--just 15 more days until my leave starts (unless the baby has other plans).  The days left as a 'mom of 2' are limited as well.  This past week was the perfect mix of busy, relaxing, entertaining, and memorable. 

Last night, Randy and I had the opportunity to have what we're assuming will be the last 'date night' out in Denver for a while.  I donned one of the least 'maternity' looking tops I have that's long enough to cover my ever-expanding belly, *stupidly* wore sparkling, strappy sandals, and accompanied my handsome hubby to LoDo (lower downtown to the non-Coloradoan). 

We chose a restaurant we found through an online city search, and our based on the reviews we read, we liked what we saw.  The menu looked interesting and tasty, and the wine list was comprehensive and fun (not that I could really enjoy more than a glass), and both the chef and sous chef have quite the resume (especially considering that the chef is just 29 years old!).  For the local readers...check out 1515 Denver and you won't be disappointed!

Our dinner...was fantastic.  I did not want my lamb dinner to end...and it was pretty evident as I practically licked the plate clean.  Randy ordered a strip steak, which was amazing (well, I have to assume so, as he ate every bite and didn't share--well, he shared the spinach--which was so yummy!).  We decided to split dessert...and I'm slightly bummed that we did.  We chose the chocolate tasting, which featured a milk chocolate pudding (omg), a *fun* chocolate cotton candy (o.m.g.), and a white chocolate panna cotta with dark chocolate 'caviar' (OMG!).  Why did I opt to share?  It must've been the glass of Malbec I enjoyed that lowered my inhibitions toward my obsession with chocolate.  Oh well...I guess we'll have to go back sometime (hmm...when will we have the time to do that?!)

After dinner, we decided to check out Peaks Lounge in the Hyatt Regency Denver.  I can't believe we've never been here in the six years we've lived out here (well, I guess I can...we have kids...date nights are rare!).  Amazing views of the city from 27 floors up, a fun drink menu, the appetizers and desserts sounded fabulous (too bad I was still full from dinner!), and the ambiance was ideal for a fun gathering of friends (30th birthday coming up soon, babe! ;) If you haven't checked out Peaks Lounge, you're missing out!  We want to check it out earlier in the evening next time, to watch the sun set over the Rockies.

Precious time started ticking away faster and faster, so we decided to stop by one more place before heading home to relieve our babysitter.  On 16th Street Mall there's a great little bar and grill called Appaloosa.  Each night, they feature live music starting at 10 pm.  We arrived a few minutes before 10 and were fortunate enough to get a table (my feet were absolutely killing me at this point...what kind of crazy lady wears stilleto sandals at 37 weeks pregnant and treks all over the city!).  The Grown Ass Man Band was playing, and they were awesome.  Their second song, a cover of Johnny Cash's 'Folsom Prison Blues' gave me goosebumps and brought a couple to their feet to dance (no way that was happening for me!). 

Randy and I found the couple *interesting* from the moment they came in.  They were an older couple, however their attire suggested otherwise (possibly they raided their teenager's closets?).  They had a 'hippie/free spirit/Boulder' look about them, which resulted in an 'we-don't-care-what-anyone-thinks-about-us' attitude.  I felt badly thinking they were trying too hard to stay young, especially as I sat there watching them dance with one another.  They were totally 'into' the music, 'into' the experience, 'into' each other.  They were pretty inseperable, couldn't really keep their hands off each other (in a relatively tasteful manner, thankfully), and were thouroughly enjoying each other's company. 

Watching them made me starte to feel sorry for myself, sorry for my husband.  When we arrived at Appaloosa, I had text our sitter to see if 11 would be ok for her, so our 'Cinderella' clock was ticking (quickly).  The purpose of going out was to enjoy a rare time together where we were alone, out of the house, away from the responsibilities of kids, dogs, and homeownership.  Here I was, shifting my attention between the obviously-infatuated older couple and my watch, rather than relax a little and enjoy the music with my husband.  I felt like our *fun* evening out was winding down with a bit of a melancholy mood.  As the time ticked away, my responsibilities crept back and I wanted to make sure I was home in time for our sitter.  Randy was more relaxed about the situation.  While he knew we needed to get home, he was chill and enjoying the band (possibly the beer...most likely it's just that he's just the calmer one in the couple!)  He sensed my anxiety as I was maneuvering through traffic on Market Street.  I think he was slightly annoyed that I so easily switched gears from 'fun date' to 'responsible mom'.

The role of 'mom' is always prevalent, date night out or not.  I know this is true because I checked my phone all evening, just in case I missed a text (when we were at Peaks Lounge and I had no service, there was a slight bit of apprehension about the lack of 'open lines of communication' between us and home).  I know this is true because there were quite a few times throughout the night when we found the conversation shifting in the direction of our little 3 and 4 year old munchkins at home.  I know this is true because throughout the night, there were little feet, elbows, knees, and hands moving all about in my belly to remind me of the upcoming *huge* change we're about to experience.  All these reminders of our children while I was supposed to be dedicating the evening to the man with whom I share those children.  Don't get me wrong, I had a fabulous night out with Randy...and there's a part of me that feels badly because I don't want this to be misconstrued in any other way. 

I guess I'm feeling apprehension.  In a few weeks, we'll have three kids.  Three little people who rely on the two of us for everything...from refills on their sippy cups, to diaper changes, to teaching them how to make good decisions and be kind to others.  We've done the whole 'parent' thing now for about 5 years, so it's not a question of 'how' to parent.  It's more of a question of how to add yet another dynamic to our 'established' family.  I know we'll find our groove, get things figured out, and before I know it, I'll be posting an entry about how I can't believe our littlest baby is teething, learning to crawl, walking, turning 3...

I'm not doubting my abilities to be a mom of 3 little kids.  I know I'm going to be bananas on some days (or most), be exhausted often, be overwhelmed weekly (if not daily), smile a ton, and feel amazingly blessed every time I look at their sweet little faces. 

I'm not even doubting my abilities to be a good wife...but I am apprehensive about my abilities to be a fantastic wife.  One who remembers the moments that make us, 'us'.  Like last night, when I was splitting my attention between the 'totally in love couple', my watch, Folsom Prison Blues, my swollen achy feet, my handsome husband, and the lemon seeds in the bottom of my water...Randy leaned over in the middle of the song, put his arm around me, kissed me on the temple, and asked me how baby was doing.  I realized that moment I was spending too much time worrying about everything else when I really needed to  be 'in the moment', and focus my attention on my husband since we were blessed to have those few precious hours of just us...so that 25 years from now, we might be that couple, dancing together at the Appaloosa, without a care in the world but each other...(but maybe we'll dress a little more age-appropro!) ;)

Love you sweetie :)


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