We swore we'd never be "those parents." The
ones who use up all their energy on their kids and don't have time for each
other at the end of the day. We took the relationship quizzes years ago and
agreed that our relationship would always be the most important thing, and we
would put each other first no matter what. We probably even felt a little superior about our
priorities when we heard stories of people who lost sight of themselves and
their relationships because they were too busy raising kids.
And then we had two of them in two years.
I'm not saying that Seth and I are on the rocks, or that our
relationship is headed south. I'm saying that we're normal, and we're tired,
and every night last week Seth fell asleep on the couch (and most nights woke
up to do schoolwork right around Ford's second nighttime meal) while I collapsed
into bed as soon as both kids were asleep and daycare bags prepped for the next
day.
We may not have watched TV together after the kids were
in bed, or chatted about the news, or relaxed with a glass of wine... but we
still felt like a winning team when we high-fived over pizza on Friday night.
We had survived our first week on our own with two jobs and two kids, and we
were ridiculously proud of ourselves.
We know that this crazy period of our lives- complete
with assembly line dinners and tagteamed bathtime and half-finished sentences
and overflowing diaper genies and way more takeout than we previously thought
acceptable- is temporary, and we're doing it. But we're going to try to find a
few minutes this week to talk about something other than Finley's new
hairpulling habit or where all the plastic pieces of the breastpump disappeared
to. Goals are good. So are realistic expectations.
And a morning nanny is the best idea we've ever had. We
have one now, and she gets the kids up and takes them to daycare so we can both
make it to work and occasionally even squeeze in a workout without having to
wake them up at an ungodly hour. It's been smooth sailing since we finally got
the carseat situation sorted out, and I can't think of money better spent.
(Although, as a good friend of mine jokes, "when they said it took a
village, I had no idea I would have to pay a staff of villagers!")
We were so proud of having survived the week that we
risked a day trip with the crazies in tow. We were long overdue for brunch with
the Alexanders in Baltimore, but got smart at the last minute and realized that
four kids under three in a restaurant was everybody's worst nightmare. Instead we
picked up brunch from an amazing place in Little Italy and decamped to the
Alexanders' rooftop deck with views of the Inner Harbor and a blow up kids'
pool. Pure genius. We enjoyed sangria while the babies napped in bouncers and
Finley and Zoe made messes with watermelon and danced their little hearts out
in the pool. No one had to chase kids under other diners' tables or utter
ridiculous phrases like "please stop stabbing people with that fork"
or "please don't put your grits in your milk glass."
Also, Finley peed on me after begging me to pick her up
out of the pool (a trick!), and this was not a huge cause for concern. My pants
eventually dried.
Jen and I agreed that we are never having brunch in a
restaurant again.
Sunday we divided and conquered (our MO more often than
not these days), and I took Finley to Rick & Anita's to see the Causeys,
where she played with bubbles and ate play doh and we discovered the
aforementioned vindictive hairpulling when AJ took her toy. And Seth got to
stay home with the nonviolent Nieman kid, who is growing like a weed. (This is
him snoozing in his 6-9 month clothes!)
I rarely think Finley and Ford look alike, but they do
share a mischievous look, evident in two of my favorites this week:
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