Thursday, May 5, 2011
Keeping The Love Alive.
Seventeen years is a long time to be married in our current culture.
Add two kids to that mix and we might be breaking records.
I think even The Husband would agree keeping the romance alive is a challenge.
We have to make an effort to spend time together. A big effort.
Babysitters are like gold dust and often as expensive.
Assuming we secure a babysitter that the kids like - staying awake to go out is the next hurdle.
Not talking about the kids when we are out, finding something we both want to do, not falling asleep.....
My motivation to spend $100 to see a movie is low. If we just wait a few weeks we can watch it at home for $5.
Some date nights one or both of us hears the couch calling and going out is the last thing we want to do.
Vacation is no different. if your full time job is your children and they are with you - calling it vacation is a stretch.
It's one of the reasons we have embraced All-Inclusive Hotels. Truthfully, I have spent considerable time mocking Club Med for being generic. Not now.
Now, the idea that someone wants to look after my kids while I lie by the pool is just about the most appealing thing in my year.
This past trip, we waited a couple of days before taking the kids down to the kids club. We wanted to make sure they knew their way around and maybe had met some of the other children at the pool first.
They skipped in happily. The husband and I took a great hike down the endless beach and swam in the ocean. It was fabulous.
When we went to pick up the girls, it fast became clear it would be our last free time.
The two year old had been hit by another child. The staff were horrified. The offending child was banned but the damage was done. The two year old was not going back to kids club happily.
So we are a team of four again.
The husband and I had planned a sunset stroll, no big deal, the kids love sunsets too.
As we sat on the beautiful, white sand beach watching the sky turn pink, I must admit that I was a little sad we weren't alone.
The husband perhaps sensing this strolled off.
He came back with a beautiful flower. A tiny pink bud sticking out of a cactus pod. Beautiful.
I was really touched at the simple, romantic gesture.
I showed it to my girls. We were all wondering what it was, what it might be called until it became painfully obvious.
It was a prickly pear. Emphasis on the word PRICKLY.
Ever touched one? Don't.
It is covered in teeny, tiny razor sharp hairs which lodge into your skin and cannot be removed by any method.
I still have two of them lodged under my skin. They are still quite painful.
I may have them forever.
Who said romance is dead?