This weekend I got dressed and put on makeup three days in a row. Two of those times included actual dresses. And heels. Yup, heels. You know it’s serious when it includes heels. Perhaps you need to know me in real life to embrace what a big deal that is, but I’d say I fully conquered the “mom time” thing this week.
Thanks to some advanced notice (read: invitations) and some loving grandparents, we had a weekend packed with events and celebrations. The only thing missing? A baby. I hadn’t planned to spend more than a night away from my son until the middle of this summer, but with a weekend crammed with countless wedding festivities, it suddenly became clear that we needed to call in some reinforcement. So with the baby happily spending time at his grandparents’ house, the husband and I tackled a series of grownup events: a wedding rehearsal dinner Friday night, a bridal shower Saturday morning, and a wedding Saturday night. Before I knew it, the weekend was over, my baby was back in my arms, and Monday morning had arrived. The whole weekend was like a flash back from our past, when we were a couple of young social butterflies. I cherished every moment of adult fun we had over those few days, but something was missing the whole time. I couldn’t wait to cuddle my rambunctious toddler again. Although apparently he had too much fun away from Mom and Dad; he was less than pleased to be home and certainly let us know as he proceeded to cry and whine the rest of the day. This morning isn’t much better. Anybody want to borrow a toddler for the week?
Just kidding. Although the “mom time” was refreshing and revitalizing, it wasn’t exactly relaxing and I got very little accomplished. It was a nice reminder that even though we may not get the freedom of the pre-parenthood days or quite the same active social life, spending each and every day with our toddler is exactly what makes me want to get up every morning. Although I wouldn’t mind if getting up in the morning meant sleeping past 5.