Dear Beloved,
This morning, I awoke to my sweet 2-year-old’s finger poking my nose, her head resting firmly on mine, and her warm breath creating a sauna effect on my forehead. Today has been a marathon of little ones climbing on me, tugging at my clothes, and, quite frankly, using me as their personal napkin. They poke, squeeze, sneeze, cuddle, and wrap themselves around me so tightly that at night, I dream of being smothered by octopuses.
As much as I adore you, I’m going to need you to keep those charming hands of yours to yourself for a moment. Mama needs some PERSONAL SPACE to transition from mom mode to wife mode.
So, as you prepare to set the romantic mood, here are a few things to consider:
- It’s date night, but our kids spent what felt like an eternity today pinching my stretched belly button just before I felt the thud of the baby’s diaper in my palm. So… let’s dial it back a notch.
- It’s date night, but I haven’t even had a moment to myself to use the restroom since waking up. During my solitary bathroom trip, our newly trained toddler followed me in and even offered to help me out. Let’s just take a moment to erase that from my mind, shall we?
- It’s date night, but I’m still wearing the same bra from yesterday, which I crashed in last night. The baby even managed to spit up into my cleavage, and that lovely aroma has lingered there longer than I’d like to admit. So… give me a minute to regroup, or I might have to incinerate the Victoria’s Secret catalog lying under a sprinkle of orange macaroni dust on the counter.
- It’s date night, but our daughter decided that my arm was an acceptable canvas for her nose, later proclaiming it was mashed bananas. (Spoiler alert: It was not.) So… why don’t we maintain a little distance until I can scrub both my arm and that memory clean?
- It’s date night, but I’ve spent the majority of my day on my knees. And no, not in the way you might think. I was busy scraping dried spaghetti sauce off the floor, gathering what felt like a billion sensory beans, and cleaning pee off the carpet. So… as fashionable as my holey mom pants are, I think I need a breather.
- It’s date night, but that wild look in my eyes is due to the incessant barrage of toys that light up, honk, or belt out “Let It Go” in Spanish. So please don’t take it personally if you find me in a corner mumbling to myself instead of swooning over romance tonight.
- It’s date night, but I prepared three meals today while being attached to the bigger kid, holding the little one on my hip who was busy sucking on my ponytail, and dealing with the middle one sprawled on the floor, crying for attention. For dessert, I think I’ll take a double order of silent meditation.
- It’s date night, but I finally managed to get the baby to sleep and have already made a deal with the universe to keep her down for a while. If she wakes up, I’ll be nursing her for another twenty minutes, and let’s just say my ta-tas are questioning their purpose right now. So, let’s keep the noise down for… oh, I don’t know, six more hours?
I love you, you are incredibly attractive, and I promise I’ll make us a priority soon. But today, our kids were so attached that they might as well have been inside me, and I desperately need to recharge before I can look into your dreamy eyes without thinking about how amazing it would feel to just shut mine and pass out.
For now, let’s enjoy some wine and strawberries that haven’t been quartered yet. Let’s sit by the fire and remember why we fell for each other in the first place. Hold me close tonight, shielding me from the toddler who attempts to pounce on my face at 3 a.m.
Thanks for understanding. Happy Date Night!