The "last" hurrah.
It made me remember my own days of hearing, for the umpteenth time from store clerks, "Wow, you're just ready to pop now, honey!" During the last, heavy days of my pregnancy with Baby J, I sat down (with a thud, I'm sure) and created a "couple's last hurrah" list for Sean and I, ensuring that we enjoyed doing everything we couldn't do once the baby arrived.
I think I came up with two things: Go out to a nice dinner, and curl my hair. I should've added "Shower daily. And enjoy having time to shave your legs."
It's easy to take your state in life and bemoan all that's denied to you. As I picked up our online P.F. Chang's order tonight, I thought back to the days when Sean and I dined out together weekly, when I curled or straightened my hair each day for work, and heck, when I used to actually wear all the high heels in my closet.
But now, we are three. And while it's tempting to extend that list of baby-related vetoes, I'd be lying if I said that I don't thank God every minute for my little man. Because as long as the list is of couples-only activities, the list can be just as long for a family of three, four, five, seven or 10.
Got one kid? You can easily stick 'em in a grocery cart and enjoy, with some peace, an easy shopping trip. Got two? Well, you can finally buy those "I'm the Big Brother" shirts from Carter's--and, you get to enjoy babyhood, another precious time. Got three? Ahh, that means you probably have one old enough to help pick up the living room before dinnertime. Got four? Man, lucky you! You can finally fill up your minivan! Five and more--heck, throw dad and mom in the mix, and you've got, as a dear friend of mine says, "a basketball team and two subs."
The grass is always greener--fewer weeds, nicer outdoor furniture, or more red wagons and water guns--on the other side of your life. And there certainly is much to be said for escaping once in a while to your former state in life. My parents recently provided Sean and I with a night out, and I'm not sure when I've savored a meal more. But in returning home to Baby J, I return to who I am now: mom to my little boy. And as lists of "hurrahs" go, he tops any list.