Last night Jesse and I went out on a date. Baby-less. It was a Christmas present from my sweetheart, he got tickets for the musical, “Footloose”, it’s 10 year anniversary tour (10 years since the musical, not since the movie, obviously) and we went out to dinner. We got dressed up, me in a black dress and boots and Jesse in a tie. I wore a new necklace and earrings from santa and a bra that was not built for nursing (it was strapless and I took it off halfway through the night). First we went to dinner at Cheers and had fish and chips and a smokey burger. Then we sat in the car in 17 degree weather while I pumped a whopping 1.5 ounces (it was too cold) before walking down the street to the show.
We had a wonderful time, but in the 5 hours we were gone, I missed my baby so much! I worried that she was having trouble eating from a bottle. I worried that I hadn’t gotten enough milk ready for her for the evening. I worried that she wouldn’t want me when we got home. I worried about nonsense.
When we got home, I was so happy to see her, she was more beautiful than I remembered. She was happy to see me, too, we sat on the couch and gazed into each others eyes (no, seriously) for awhile before going to sleep. It was the longest I’ve been away from that baby since she was born. The longest by, oh, about 4.5 hours! I kept wanting to tell people about Elena, that I was a mom and that she was the best baby, ever.
Geez, having a kid makes you weird.