Accomplishment one: I packed and wore really cute clothes that I dug out of the back of my closet (behind all the Lululemon black lycra)! And I even packed super cute jewelry.
It’s kind of magical, the thing that happens the minute the wheels take flight, you’re on the airplane, just the TWO of you. No mini backpacks to keep track of, no tiny Lego guys to fish out from under the gross fabric airplane seat. You kind of see each other in a new light…’oh yeaaahhhh, that’s why I married you. Uh huhhhh.’
Accomplishment two: We actually, after awhile of unloading kid stuff, started the kind of brainstorming-y ‘what do we want to do with our lives’ chatter that feels so frivolous and carefree, and well, indulgent. We never ever get that kind of freedom, to just while away the hours dreaming about our future, what it’s all for, where we see ourselves 5 or 10 years from now. Not sure we figured much out, but it was very fun to aimlessly chat over vats of wine.
Accomplishment three: We really truly did NOT feel any guilt. This time, and maybe it’s just because the kids are 7 and 9, we truly owned this weekend for us. We deserve to know each other on a different level, one that doesn’t involve third grade geometry or fighting over the Wii. We talked about how, if the goal of having kids in the first place is to equip them with all the tools to be independent and live on their own, then it’s our DUTY to let them fend for themselves every now and again (with a babysitter, of course) while we nurture this marriage thing.
I just asked Paul what his favorite part of the weekend was, and after giving the obvious ‘guy’ answer that I won’t print here, he said it was just sitting at Pastis, our favorite brunch spot, and having no time crunch, just eating and drinking and being.
So go – even if it’s for a day or one night – somewhere, anywhere, ALONE. Without kids. Later, when you’re still married, those kids will hopefully thank you for it.