Before Violet was born, I thought that Linda and I would make time to go out – just the two of us – at least once a week. I imagined that if it didn’t happen, we’d start to feel trapped, sequestered from the rest of the world. It hasn’t happened. We don’t go out once a week, and although it’s probably something we should be doing, I’m surprised that I’m not missing it like I thought I would. It’s true that it’s partly because the words “getting ready to go out” now involve a much longer list of tasks. Contemplating that list prior to an evening out can’t help but make one wonder, “Wouldn’t it be more fun just to stay home?” Besides, it’s still hard to leave our little girl.
But I know we should go, so we do, as we did last night. And I enjoyed holding my wife’s hand in the darkened movie theater. I enjoyed, as we walked to the car, talking with her about why I liked the movie and why she didn’t. But it was also really nice to go into my in-law’s bedroom and see our sleeping daughter, to whisper her name and have her open her eyes, to watch her eyes find mine and turn bright with a sleepy smile.