Slipping through my fingers

Today my sweet husband called me from work to ask me out on a date. He'd already been in touch with a babysitter (my mom, who else?) so everything was set. We went to see Mamma Mia and I loved it, which is what I expected. I never met a musical I didn't like.

I was excited to go on a date, because the last movie we saw in a theater was Juno and it was February. I put on makeup and changed my outfit and everything, so it was reminiscent of college. Jordan and I have fond memories of the days when he'd come visit me in Manning Hall, the girls' high-rise. We'd talk on the phone and I'd ask him if he wanted to come over and watch a movie. He'd say sure! I'd say "great--just give me about an hour." After I'd showered, brushed my teeth, blow-dried my hair and put on makeup (plus probably made him wait in the lobby at least 15 minutes) I'd go down and get him. All to sit in a crummy dorm room and flirt. It's amazing the silly little things one can find to worry about before she has a baby.

The thing about post-baby dates is even when you drop the baby off you still have her with you. You look over your shoulder without thinking to see if she's sleeping in the car seat just to see it's empty. Your eyes tear up during "Slipping Through My Fingers" because you realize in 19 years that will be your daughter and even though you're on a date with your husband you wish she was in your arms. When you discuss it in the car later he admits he had a lump in his throat, too.