From the Momplex archives, 2009:
Today my husband and I begin “date nights,” honoring our commitment to set aside Wednesday nights for just each other. Of course, like any other night in our home, these nights will have to start out with nursing and rocking (the baby, not my husband) and wondering why, oh, why my husband thought it would be wise to show our daughter the enticing little crawlspace that leads to our sump pump in the basement. Also, mindlessly eating a dollop of penne con salsicce that I’d dropped on my nursing baby’s bared groin. Bleck. Bedtime for the kiddos has to be handled, too, so I just finished nursing the wee one until even the lung under my boob nearly collapsed. My husband’s still working on the older kiddo’s bedtime.
Wednesdays kind of suck for me, because they’re the one weekday my daughter doesn’t have preschool. When your kids wake at 6 a.m. and go to bed at 7 p.m., and you barely interact with another soul all day, it sort of makes you want to get your tubes tied. (If you’ve never played an hour or so of Mommy Has to Talk for a Herd of Miniature Plastic Horses, you might not know what I mean.) Anyway, I tried. I took the kids out for a walk to the park. Then we went over near some giant rock and dirt piles so that my daughter could play mountain goat. A game of hide-and-seek in a nearby woods followed. As did some tree-climbing. Then we were off to my daughter’s swimming class. Next, to a cafe for lunch before heading over to the zoo to play some more and ogle and harass the meerkats. All this time, by the way, I was wearing our three-month-old (lest you forget, which I surely shall never let you do).
I should mention the baby has his first little cold and was spitting up milk left and right. We were both covered in it. So, I stopped off at Target to buy some magic formula that’s supposed to help reduce spit-up. When I got home, I commenced cleaning and getting dinner started as fast as I could. Then I made a noble effort at dolling myself up in high-heeled boots and jeans and a sexy black blouse before sitting down to nurse the crying baby while also reading a book about dinosaurs to my daughter.
Well, as the royals say in Windsor Castle, screw that horseshit. Seriously. Tomorrow, it’s back to mediocrity, which as far as I’m concerned, is aiming high enough right now.
Wanna know what my husband said when he got home from work? “Awww, man! You didn’t use that $5 formula coupon on the fridge?” Wanna know what he’s getting out of this date night? Scrabble.