What a difference from the first and second years…

Back tomorrow with more crazy travel tales.

It’s been a long couple of weeks.  As the morning person in our relationship, I have always been the one who gets up with the kids. I’m pretty much on-duty by myself from the time they wake up until dinner.  Thankfully, M usually gets home for dinner time and does the vast majority of bath and bed by himself.  I’m grateful for that.  But still, the days can be long and repetitive.  At least on the weekend I usually have some sharing of responsibility, so I look forward to it.

The last two weekends, unfortunately, have not been so restful.  M was taking a professional development course that met Friday night (so no relief when I’m burnt out at the end of Friday) and all-day for two Saturdays in a row.  Did I mention that the kids take a parent/child swim class on Saturday mornings? Doing that by myself was nerve-wracking, to say the least, though they did well.  Plus, last weekend, my in-laws were in town.  And while that meant some extra hands and eyes, I don’t have to tell any of you about houseguests not being exactly relaxing.  This weekend, solo swimming again, followed by a birthday party.  Fun activities, but I’m damn tired.

So I really wanted my husband to just take care of the kids this morning so I could climb back into bed, and generally be off-duty for a little while.

He’s a good guy, of course, so he got his lazy butt out of bed and went downstairs.  The next thing I know, Rebecca is running back upstairs to me.

“Mommy, mommy! We’re going to go see Dora!”

Lord only knows what he Googled to arrive at this choice, but he discovered that the Nickelodeon Live stage show was in Boston, today is the last day, and there was a show in an hour and a half with tickets available.

I helped get the kids dressed and stocked the man bag with a potty and some snacks, and off they went.

My house is quiet.

I think that guy is a keeper.

I can complain about him sometimes, of course. His inability to wake up at a normal hour of the morning, for instance, will drive me nuts until the day I die. Everybody has their “thing” that bugs the shit out of their partner.  And when it comes to outings, sometimes I hate it that he seems to have no sense of timing, as far as how long it takes to get somewhere, how that fits into our schedule, and how long a shower he can take before I go stark raving mad.

But sometimes, man.  Sometimes he goes big. He wants to do something special and fun that the kids will love.  He doesn’t have as much experience going out solo with the kids as I do, of course. And he’s a worst-case-scenario worrywart by nature. So driving downtown and going to a theater by himself with two not-quite-three-year-olds makes him a little nervous.  But damn if he didn’t see my need for some quiet time and turn it into something great.

Not shockingly, I have not seen a movie in the theater since before the kids were born (for the record, it was Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix and I was gargantuanly pregnant and just praying I wouldn’t go into labor before it was over).  I’ve seen a small handful on cable, but when it comes right down to it, I have seen pretty much zero recent movies.

But we haven’t lost our touch.  No, we can still repeat strange-sounding phrases to each other, and we immediately catch the reference, and respond with the next line or otherwise work the source material into conversation.  Witness: this afternoon.  We were playing outside with the kids.  M walked up to me, where I was sitting and watching them play.

M: “Honey, I’m trying to remember…. is it sausage casing day, or is it doily lacing day?”
Me: “Are you sure it isn’t nervous pacing day?  Or perhaps doggie chasing day?”
M: “Wait, I remember.  It’s racing day.”
Me: “Ah yes. Today’s the day we race.”

Sad, isn’t it?  But damn, it sure is catchy.

C’mon. How many of you instantly knew where it was from?

It was a pretty quick drive up to Kennebunkport, Maine, where we stayed at The Breakwater Inn and Spa.  Cheap? Nope. But if you get away maybe once a year, I say splurge.  We arrived at around 9:30pm, and the reception desk was closed.  It’s a quiet town, that’s for sure.  Well, they had basically taped up an envelope with my name on it, our room key, and a letter welcoming us.  The room was lovely and spacious, and for a little extra ambiance, they had the classical station playing on the stereo when we arrived.  Aaaaahhhhhhhh.

Saturday morning was “me” time, for both of us.  M… well…. slept.  That’s what he wanted, that’s what he got.  I was, of course, wide awake at 7:30AM, but no biggie. I lounged around and read blogs on my iPhone. Took a shower without wondering what trouble the kids would get into. Walked over to the complimentary breakfast and took in the view while sewing. My time to do whatever I so choose.

The one “scheduled” thing about the weekend was my pair of spa appointments.  Aaaaahhhh. My first massage since I was pregnant was absolutely delicious, and the pedicure was not only lovely but overdue now that we’re in sandal season.

Spa loveliness was over around lunchtime, so we hopped into “downtown” and had a very tasty lunch at Hurricane Restaurant. Highly recommend it, tasty food complete with lovely views of the water. We lucked out, as it was warm and sunny after a nasty week of cold and rainy.

After lunch, we soaked in the lack of schedule and restraints.  Walked around, hung out. M actually suggested that we hit a quilt shop we saw on the way in (yes, he loves me).  More on the cotton-y goodness on my other blog.  After that, his one request was to… play mini-golf.  Yep.  Mini-golf, it is.  Who won?  Yours truly! Not that either of us was particularly impressive.

After a stop at one of the countless ice cream shops, we headed back to the hotel and I took a whopping two-hour nap.  At 5PM. What a treat!  Then we went out for a late dinner.  Let me tell you, if you find yourself in the greater Kennebunk area, make it a point to have a quiet dinner at On the Marsh.  Service was good, ambiance was lovely, food was delicious. We even lucked out that they had a prix fixe menu in anticipation of Southern Maine Restaurant Week.  (The mahi mahi was so good, I’ll even forgive them for spelling it “prefix.”)

Sunday was a quiet day. I got up and lounged around the free breakfast again, M slept in some more.  Snapped a few photos of the copper wind sculptures and the bit of rocks and sand along the river right in front of the hotel.  A bit of shopping and the most delicious roast beef sandwich I may have ever had at Henry VIII, and we were on our way home.

And so, I say unto you: get out of town.  If someone offers to watch the kids for a day or two, don’t think twice. Go someplace fun and relaxing, splurge a little, and reconnect with your non-nap-dictated self, and maybe even your beloved as well.  Good for you to get a break, good for the kids to have some time with other people.

Our plan for Saturday is that M will sleep until lunchtime, and I’ll take the morning and hang at the spa.  I called today to book appointments for a massage and a pedicure. (Oooh, I’m excited just typing it.)  For one thing, the person who answered the direct hotel line did the booking for me, no “press 2″ here or “please hold” there.  Just done.  Excellent, checked that off the list.  But a few minutes later, my phone rang and I saw the caller ID of the hotel.  It was the same person.  She said she’d been thinking about it, and wanted me to have more time after my massage to take a shower and relax before my pedicure, so she pushed the pedicure appointment back by 15 minutes.

This is going to be a lovely weekend.

I love that Daniel adds an “L” to his “arrrrgh!” And, just like his dad, he cracks himself up.

On a related note, anyone have a recommendation for good pirate books for young toddlers? M really wants to capitalize on this one…

Anyways, partly in honor of my beloved for playing Mr. Mom today, I saw this little meme on dooce and thought I’d throw it out there.  A bit more about me and M…

What are your middle names?
Mine is Anne, after my mom. It’s also the middle name we gave to Rebecca. His is David. I think his mom just really liked the name, second only to his first name.

How long have you been together?
Eight years. Dated a year and a half before moving in together, and lived together two years before getting engaged. Engaged 4 1/2 months before getting married.  Once I get the green light, I don’t mess around.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Not long at all. We had only met three times (in November and December of 2000) before we started dating mid-January 2001.

Who asked whom out?
Hard to say.  There was a series of extremely flirty emails that got the ball rolling, and I think it was me who started the exchange.

How old are each of you?
I’m 30, he’s 34.  When we started dating (at 22 and 26), I was pretty fresh out of college and tickled at the idea of dating someone “older.”  I quickly stopped noticing, unless specifically discussing something in the 1990s.  Then it was a big game of “oh, you were in high school then? I was only in 7th grade!”

Whose siblings do you see the most?
M’s sister lives in Boston, so we see her most weekends. She and I have become good friends, even though I don’t think I made a good first impression.  And she’s an awesome and adoring aunt.
My brother and stepsister live in Chicago, and my stepbrother in Vegas, so we don’t see much of them.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Huh.  I think division of labor is a sticky issue for us. Chores, getting things done.  I tend to be a little more “get up and go” than he is, which causes some conflict.  And we pretty much cannot talk about home renovations, especially with regard to the kitchen.  Guaranteed argument.

Did you go to the same school?
Nope.  He did his undergrad here in Boston, mine was in Chicago.  I moved out here for graduate school, and he was still living in the area post-college.

Are you from the same home town?
Nope.  I grew up in Illinois, he in Connecticut.

Who is smarter?
M is wicked smart. A voracious reader and knowledgeable on tons of topics. But sometimes he’s overconfident and just starts pulling smart-sounding things out of his ass, when really he has no knowledge of the subject at all.  And he has no sense of time.  Not only is he always late, but everything was “two weeks ago.”  Even if it was three years ago.  I have a much better memory for dates and details.  M prefers to embellish stories and it drives him nuts when I start correcting the details.  “That wasn’t last Thursday, it was the previous Monday!”

Who is the most sensitive?
Well. Hrm.  When we first started dating, I would have said me.  But not only has the more practical, hard-ass side of me come out thanks to M, but he’s also much more sensitive than someone might initially think.  He can be brash and crude, but things really do get to him.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
We love sushi.  Our favorite little sushi place in Cambridge switched owners, and we don’t live very close to there anymore.  But on the rare nights when we get someone to watch the kids and go out, it’s most likely going to be for sushi.  Which I had never tried until he took me to a sushi place the very first weekend we were sorta-dating.  Since then, I’ve become a bit more adventurous with the kinds I’ll try (though not super daring), and have developed a much heavier hand with the wasabi.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Mexico (Acapulco) for our honeymoon.

Who has the craziest exes?
M, hands down.  While some are/were nice, he’s got a lot of nut-jobs in his past.  He was… ahem… busy in college.  Mine is a much shorter list, and everyone on it is pretty nice. I didn’t date any lunatics.

Who has the worst temper?
Me. For sure.  I get really mad and want to hit/throw things.  M doesn’t generally go that direction.  If he’s mad, he gets quiet, just like his dad.  And it’s kind of scary.  I’m louder and easier to set off.  Don’t get him started telling stories of my road rage.

Who does the cooking?
Me.  M has a few dishes he can do, especially steak.  But if he cooks, it tends to get  kind of free-form, which can be hit or miss.  Plus, if I waited for him to get home to start dinner, we’d never eat.

Who is the neat-freak?
Neither of us.  Though sometimes I think he was simply born with a different optical nerve, as someone in my MOT club put it.  The things he manages to just not see boggle the mind.  But I shouldn’t talk.  I’m a terrible housekeeper, and you will have to pry my cleaning ladies from my cold, dead fingers.  I’ll cut back on all manner of things, but I will continue to pay someone to clean my bathroom for as long as I can.

Who is more stubborn?
Hard to say. I’m obstinate stubborn.  He’s ‘refuse to make a decision’ stubborn.

Who hogs the bed?
Me, or so I’m told.  I believe it.  Except that once M comes to bed, he snores so loud that I often end up moving to the guest room somewhere between 3 and 6AM.

Who wakes up earlier?
Me, for sure.  I’ve always been a relatively early riser, and M is my polar opposite.  He often stays up well past 2AM, whether playing Warcraft or reading or whatever.  He really never comes to bed before midnight.  And he could sleep until 2 in the afternoon if I let him.  It’s unreal.

Where was your first date?
We didn’t really do “dates.”  The first weekend things started rolling were mostly spent at my apartment in Kenmore Square watching movies.  And making 3AM runs for ice cream.  Except the Store 24 around the corner was inexplicably closed, so we hopped in his car and drove across the river to a 24-hour White Hen Pantry, then back to my apartment.  We will go to great lengths for ice cream.

Who is more jealous?
Probably me, but I don’t think I’m especially so.

How long did it take to get serious?
Almost no time at all.  I think we’d been together two or three weeks when I told my friend Marci that I would marry him.

Who eats more?
We both do, though M almost never has breakfast but is more likely to make himself pasta at 1:30 in the morning.  See previous question on sleep habits.

Who does the laundry?
Me, and I tend to prefer it that way.  M helps when asked.  Except I have to be really specific.  If I go to bed and ask him to get the laundry out of the dryer before he comes up, he will do exactly that.  And I will come down in the morning (with two cranky toddlers demanding breakfast) to find the previous night’s laundry crammed into the basket, wrinkled and unfolded.  So now I have to say “will you please get the laundry from the dryer and fold it.”

Who’s better with the computer?
Well, M does computer networking for a living and is really quite good at it.  I’m no slump in that arena, but he takes the cake.

Who drives when you are together?
Depends what car we’re driving, or what time of day.  The minivan is almost all me, the Jetta is almost all him.  But if it’s early in the morning, I’ll probably drive.  If it’s after dark, it’s all M.  I get road hypnosis and have a hard time staying awake.

Today is Happy Thursday, indeed, because the Daddy is finally home from a business trip to Canada.  A two-day trip turned into a three-day one, and it was all to do something he knew wouldn’t fix the underlying problem, anyways.  Not a fun trip to the Frigid North for him, and certainly sad for us to miss out on quality Daddy time.  But, very late last night, he finally returned to balmy New England (seriously, it rained yesterday. WTF?!), and managed to not spin out on the highway on the way home.  The kids are excited to see him, I’m excited to see him.  And we hope he doesn’t have to go back any time soon.  No offense to the nice people of Winnipeg, but we’d rather be right here.

Mommy: Sorry, buddy, Daddy’s not here.

Daniel: Ees-ee? (“Where is he?”)

Mommy: He’s in Canada. [Business trip, already prolonged by an extra day, not happy about it.]

Daniel: Can-No!

Mommy: I agree, buddy. I agree.

For me, there’s a clear winner:

After a rough morning and a 5-hour delay, M finally arrived in Chicago late Saturday afternoon.  We couldn’t be happier to see him!