Out on the town

Before Roscoe was born we were movie fanatics. In a typical week we would see a movie in theater, and rent at least another (or two) through netflix.

Our last outing to the movies was a disaster. We found seats in the last row on the far left-hand side, which seemed like a great location because we didn't have to worry about anyone peeping over my shoulder, and it was a straight shot to the exit. Roscoe was almost three months old at the time and spent the duration of the 2 hour movie alternating between nursing, fussing, and crying. In an effort to spare the other movie-goers from his newborn wails we exhausted ourselves bounding frantically up and down the aisle and out the door--no sooner would we settle back into our seats than he would begin again. Up and down, back and forth.

We received a fair share of looks--some dirty, some full of pity--and one random woman even gave us some unsolicited advice. We each missed about a 1/3 of the movie, including the end by which point we had thoroughly given up. Lesson learned. We didn't want to be those people ever again!

It's been over 6 months since then, and more than nine since we've been out as a couple. Roscoe's new routine has recently made it possible to consider the evenings a safe time to venture out and so we decided to schedule our "first date".

We bought our tickets in advance, and our friends who live across the street generously agreed to give up their Saturday night. Their daughter is due in only 8 weeks so they were more than happy to take up baby watch. When all the pieces were in order, I suddenly felt indifferent to the whole idea. Is seeing Avatar in 3D really worth leaving Roscoe?

Saturday morning I was feeling particularly unsettled, and as the day wore on I tried not to think too hard about it. At 5 minutes to departure we threw on our clothes, and scribbled out the appropriate emergency information. We checked on Roscoe one last time, and gave some last-minute over-involved instructions: a demonstration on how to adjust him in his swing, how to properly drape his blanket, and the location of a nightlight (just in case). Before I knew it we were two people pulling out of the garage and away from our warm, dimly lit home--inside of which, our whole world was soundly sleeping.

Just as our conversation turned to a topic unrelated to Roscoe, nursing, or sleep, his latest toy began to play a mischievous little jingle from the back seat--as if we needed a reminder of our parental status. With every bump, turn, stop, and go, the toy was activated. I tried to silence it but there was no way. We finally stuffed it in the glove box and drowned out the sound with the radio up at a decibel level we've not been able to enjoy since Roscoe's little ears entered the picture and, hand-in-hand we proceeded with our evening.

In short, Avatar was one of the most beautiful movies I've ever seen. The imagery was incredible, the story was fascinating. Watching it in 3D was fantastic. Despite thinking of Roscoe every 5 minutes, we sent only one mid-movie text, just to check in. We grabbed a milkshake on the way home and we arrived to peace and quiet--Roscoe hadn't more than stirred in our absence.

It was a little wild to enjoy 3 1/2 hours together, alone, and then get to come home to our little guy who seems to have our hearts wound tighter with each passing day. We feel pretty lucky and content, to know that from here on out, in addition to the everyday joys of parenting, our lives will also include some of the pleasures that came before.