ah, romance...

when fai and i first started dating, it was pretty common to find us in the clubs on the weekends dancing the night away. we would get all dressed up and gather with a fun group of friends, and hit the town...well, as much as one can hit the town in lexington. we would be out until two in the morning sometimes and not think anything of it. it was great!

fast forward to nine and a half years later....

i can't seem to make it past 11:30 without feeling completely wrung and date night seems to come along every three months or so and involves finding a sitter, not bothering to dress up beyond throwing on some clothes that don't have baby spit on them and pulling my messy hair back. clubbing? ha! unless you count ordering a club sandwich at subway, clubbing is no longer a part of our scene. i'm too old and my poor head wouldn't be able to handle the chest vibrating kind of music they play after spending all day with screaming kids. we would be "that couple" who everyone knows is too old to be there and must simply be making a pathetic attempt to regain the good ol' days of their youth. gosh, i'm old.

romance these days consists of the occasional rented movie and some pop after the kids are in bed and the house is cleaned up for the third time of the day. it is the meaningful stroke on my back as he drops his dirty lunch dishes off in the kitchen where i'm trying to bounce the baby and cook dinner at the same time. it's when he offers to clean the kitchen or make the dinner or, lord willing, take the baby himself so that i can do these things in peace. it's the sweet little messages he sends through email while he's at work or posts on my wall on facebook.

as for dancing, we haven't quite given it up. a few nights ago, as the kids were all sleeping and the house was quiet, he plays a song on youtube and coaxes me onto the living room dance floor. we suddenly found it amusing in the middle of "hero" that this is what our love lives had come to: youtube in the living room where the baby was sleeping on the couch, trying not to step on the creaky spots on the floor that may wake her up. the music was cheesy and our clothes were rather unflattering, and yet there we were, swaying to it and feeling lucky to have that moment. i guess what's funnier than that is that i was perfectly happy. in fact, i think i'd take those nights over the college clubbing any day. because, really, what is more romantic? bouncing around to obnoxious music in a sweaty crowd of strangers? or the fact that your husband worked to make the moment special, the sweet sway to soft strains in the comfort of the home you've built together?