I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my makeup was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100 percent has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere.
But there were days when we would lay in bed and binge-watch Netflix. They were my favorite. The thought of being with you for the whole weekend got me through the week. We’d run down the street to our favorite Mexican place, eat until we were stuffed, grab some ice cream, and watch “Chuck” until we fell asleep. We’d laugh until we cried. And we wouldn’t wake up the next morning until we felt like it.
Remember all those Saturdays we’d hop in the car and drive? Anywhere. Or we’d call up a few friends and ask them to meet us downtown in like 30 minutes? We didn’t have to be home at a certain time. If we stayed out late, it was fine because we could take a nap the next day. We went on lots of adventures, didn’t we?
And you got all of me. The very best parts.
Our life looks so much different now. It’s all we’ve ever wanted.
But you get the last of me.
When you get home, I’ve had as many toddler tantrums as I can possibly take. The baby is on my hip or reaching up for me or following me around. Dinner is always on the stove and I’m doing a hundred things at one time to make sure everyone’s blood sugar doesn’t drop before they grow three heads. The house is normally a mess. Toys are scattered everywhere. I yell over the whining baby and the noisy TV something about your day. You sit down and say, “I’ll tell you later.” Or you start to tell me and we get interrupted a thousand times because someone needs me or one of us have to intervene before they try to kill each other.
Finally, after we battle bath time, toothbrush tantrums, and ALL.THE.STALLING for bedtime, we are finally alone. And I get to look into your sweet face for the first time that day. You’re like a breath of fresh air, still. And gah, you’re so handsome.
Our days are now scheduled. There is no picking-up-going-there last minute. That doesn’t work with two toddlers. When we do go on dates, much-needed dates, we’re always watching the clock making sure we fit everything in before the babysitter needs to leave. Those moments with you are precious and they go by way too fast. There isn’t much binge-watching Netflix anymore. It happens, but we normally both are asleep after two episodes. And sleep in? Bahaha. Funny.
But this life, these babies, they are all we’ve ever wanted. It might be messy and crazy, but it’s the beautiful kind. All the “freedoms” of our past are now met with sloppy kisses and Sofia the First. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. I know you wouldn’t either.
But I want you to know, Honey, that I loved you first.
