Tomorrow night, Mike and I have a date. An actual, real life, child free, evening out together, just me and him. We’re going out for a meal in a child free restaurant, for once, I am not driving and there may even be… wait for it…. alcohol!!! (Shock horror!) It might not sound like a big deal, but this is the first real ‘date night’ we have had since Neve was born (almost 2 years ago), and to be honest one of the only real date nights we’ve had since becoming parents. Thanks to Nanny and Grandad, we are getting on our glad rags, getting the train to Birmingham, and hoping to enjoy each others company completely undisturbed.
As parents, the thought of a rare night away from all the responsibilities of parenthood is pretty special, yet the reality of a date night might be somewhat different. I can almost predict what our date night will look like already, and it goes something like this.
- Despite not drawing attention to the fact that Mummy and Daddy are going out, the youngest will sense my desperation for freedom. She will notice the glint in Mummy’s eye at the prospect of escaping the bedtime routine for one night only, and as a result, she will spend the entire afternoon clinging to my leg whilst I try and shave it/apply fake tan/moisturise. As a result, I will leave the house with a small stubbly patch on one leg in the shape of Neve’s right handprint, and have to sit with one hand resting over it for the entire duration of the meal.
- Having bought three new potential outfits for my date night, I will realise at 6pm the stark reality that NONE of them actually look very nice at all, despite the fact that I was totally bought into them when I purchased them just a mere few days before. I will then proceed to remove the contents of my entire wardrobe and throw it on the bed, wishing that some of the items flung around the room weren’t in a size 10, and that actually went past my thighs or could fasten up without gaping at the bust.
- After approximately three hours after starting to get ready, we will drop off the children at Nanny’s house, trying to present a calm outer exterior whilst we kiss the girls goodnight. I will close the door quietly behind us, and then leg it to the car in a style not too dissimilar to Forest Gump leaving the office on a Friday.
- We will jump on the train to Birmingham, and sit like two slightly nervous teenagers heading off on their first date. Having forgotten what public displays of affection feel like I will wonder if I should potentially hold hands or something, to at least put on some kind of united front of coupledom.
- Ten minutes into the meal, I will start thinking about the children. Are they behaving for Nanny? Are they asleep yet? Are they missing us? The conversation will start to dry up, and I will feel the sudden urge to show my other half some photos of the girls on my phone.
- Half way through my first alcoholic drink of the night, I will notice how incredibly HOT the restaurant is. WHY IS IT SO FREAKIN’ HOT?! I will start fanning myself with a napkin before realising that it’s not, and that I am actually just a little bit drunk. Despite only consuming half an inch of a weak vodka cocktail, my virtually tee total body is having a drunken malfunction and I will wonder how I will ever survive the evening.
- After dessert, Mike will start to give me “the look” – the one which implies that he wants to make the most of our first child free evening in forever. We will both have strong desires to get back home and back in to the bedroom; however unfortunately for him, mine will be for one thing and one thing only – SLEEP.
- We head home feeling like we’ve been out for hours, my feet aching from wearing heels for the first time in about 8 months, and my ears ringing slightly from the bustle of the restaurant (does it have to be so loud!) before looking at the clock and realising it’s only half past 9.
- We arrive home, and Mike jokingly tries to carry me over the threashold, before realising I have just consumed my entire body weight in steak and ice cream, and opting for more of a semi romantic shove instead.
- We head up to the bedroom, only to remember that the bed is covered in all of the size 10 dresses I will never get to wear again…. I face plant the mattress, and wake up 8 hours later with a H&M label imprinted on my face. *Sigh* (this one definitely won’t happen as Neve is coming home!!)
I jest, and hopefully this isn’t quite the reality of how our date night will turn out, but the reality is date nights for parents are somewhat different from the way they used to be!
I am not setting high expectations, but for me, just the chance to eat without someone poking me saying Mummy, singing Jingle Bells in June or declaring they need a poo half way through the meal will be a pleasant place to start. If we get to spend some quality time together and have a laugh at the same time even better! 🙂
Wish me luck!
Lucy
