This isn’t a post about struggling as a working mom. I suppose it’s better described as a post about a struggling, working mom and wife. The folks over at Parent Bloggers are having a contest – write a post about why you need a date with your partner. It’s something they are doing with E-Harmony Marriage. I’m all for contests and harmony in marriage, what I’m not typically for, at least for me personally, is writing about flaws in my marriage. The idea of publicly airing why I need a date with my husband seemed like another way of complaining.

I think we get bombarded with how hard marriage is, the unrelenting lack of glamour in being a mom, the list of gripes is limitless. And it’s not that I disagree, I just think the more important message is the other side. It’s why I blog. Day in and day out I see little bits of magic. We are coming up on four years of marriage and three years of parenting. There are less “just because I love you” bouquets of flowers, fewer notes and cards of undying love and rabid passion, and the times we spend one-on-one are rare. Of course we argue and disagree, I huff and rant, he slams and stews, but we always come back. We always love.

Last night I slipped into bed next to Sean well after midnight. I had stayed up to write a post about our life. It was simple, born from something as mundane as parking the car. It wasn’t particularly romantic, other than its message of love for our girls. This morning, going about my day, reading another post about the Parent Bloggers contest that I had no intention of participating in, an email came, the subject line said simply: Socks.

I thought about posting this on your blog, but decided
against it, for some reason. I waited for you last night,
as you moved the car. I watched from the window at
the top of the stairs.

Waited (and waited) until I started to get nervous—a
watched pot never boils—then your headlights swept
the street as you turned off Lincoln onto our block, then
into our driveway…where you sat.

I wondered what you were doing. Now I know. I watched you take your socks off when you got out, and wondered about that too.

Then you walked barefoot down the sidewalk and aroundthe corner of the house, out of sight.

Which is when I turned on the bathroom light.


Last night he watched me from the window…

Today I think I’d like to say that yes, I really need a date with my husband. Help us draw the sash and power down, so that we might spend an evening holding hands and looking at one another from across a table for two.