Last night, Doug and I went to the Taste of Texas with a big group of really fun people. When I say fun people, I mean that I haven’t had sore abs in 27 weeks. I woke up this morning with sore abs from all of the laughing I did last night.
All of my friends who have recently become parents have encouraged us to go out one more time, to take one more trip, to spend just a little more time as a couple. Well, I think we did just that last night. I can’t imagine how long it will be after Daniel arrives that we can spend four hours at an eating establishment and not worry about what time it is, how long the baby’s been with the sitter, or how much we miss him.
I happen to be one of those people who doesn’t believe that you need one more night on the town or one more exotic getaway. Sure, we happened to go to Costa Rica when I was 11 weeks pregnant, but that trip was booked long before we knew I was pregnant. Besides all that, we were there with my parents. Of course I had fun last night, but my social life isn’t going to be on my radar for too much longer.
Call me crazy, but I’m really looking forward to being a family of three. I’m excited about taking Daniel to Chick-fil-a on a Friday night and watching him zig and zag through the jungle jim with ten other kids he’s never met. I can’t wait for Easter to be a chaotic event - one with stained hands and too-expensive outfits that we’ll only wear to church once. The idea of not giving a rip about what’s under the tree with my name on it, but really enjoying my son’s face light up with glee when he opens something he’s been eyeing at the toy store - that’s what I’m living for now.
Sure we had a blast last night. Sure I’ll probably miss adult interaction like that. Am I worried about it? Nah. Do I think that life is going to change in about 13 weeks? Well hell yes I do. Do I care? Hell yes - I care and I can’t wait.
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