Date Night

So tonight, after receiving 3 desperate text messages and one desperate voicemail from Tyler begging me to come rescue him from his boredom and starvation (also known as his office), we decided we were going out to dinner. Like a date! But not just a date.... a family date! As in braving a sit-down restaurant on a friday night with a two-year-old and a 5month old. I can see the word NIGHTMARE flashing in many of your minds as you toss that idea around in your "been there, tried that, won't try it ever again" brain compartment. Face it, we moms have an entire brain compartment devoted to those kinds of things. But when your husband offers to take you to dinner, you have to jump all over it because:

A. He gets all chivalrous and opens doors and dishes your salad for you (cute!)

B. You don't have to cook (which also means you don't have to dishes)

C. It's Olive Garden and who doesn't love Olive Garden?

Well, about half way through the date, I found myself looking at my little table of four as if from a distance. Rylan was on my lap, terrorizing a mass of mushiness that once was a breadstick (she apparently loves Italian food as much as her momma!), Tyler was smiling with that smile that I love so much, taking pictures of Rylan and her new love, Mr. Breadstick. And Parker was driving sugar packets up and down the arms of his chair while softly singing "happy birthday to you". And my heart just melted right there next to my plate of ravioli. So this is love?

Many would have looked at the same scene I was seeing and say, "This is a date? It looks more like a circus to me!" But I saw my whole existence, together, content and in love and I wish I could freeze that moment forever! Now don't get me wrong, I think dates consisting of just my hubby and me are all kinds of magical but I have to say tonight was one of the best date nights EVER!

On another note, if you haven't read about the Barbaramobile, you probably should here to fully appreciate this bit. On our way home tonight, I was hardly surprised when Tyler decided to mortify me with his gangster antics. At several stop lights I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of our pimpmobile with my window rolled down (not my doing), some awful base-blasting song on the radio, my seat vibrating with each beat. Tyler was raging a little faster than usual because Rylan was declaring her anger from the back seat for separating her from her previously mentioned breadstick. We came up behind another car and, apparently, they were overcome by Barbarella because they flung their 4 Runner to the shoulder, let us pass, and crept back out behind us. Seriously. We own the road!