One of us was determined to get both of us out of the house early on in Ezra’s life. It only took us 36 days. Since then, we’ve tried to make a habit of it, and it helps that he has a couple of doting grandparents who’ll sweep him up any chance they get. I’m pretty sure they now mark time in units of D.U.E. — Days Until Ezra.
But they also travel a lot, and Nana Adrienne had some arm surgery that prevents her from picking up anything heavier than a cantaloupe, and, let’s face it, Ezra’s weight has moved well beyond produce. Supermarket-wise, you’ll have better luck measuring him against sizes of turkey. The upshot being we’ve been forced to expand our catalog of babysitting options beyond his grandparents.
This has been strangely difficult for us. We are very lucky to have gobs of cousins in the area, but really only one of them was of proper babysitting age and talent, and she just up and left to study abroad. We’ve got a few more years before the next generation is old enough to be trusted with getting a kid fed and kept out of the poison cabinet. (What? Where do you keep your poison?) Of course we have friends in the city, but our plans always arise last minute, and if you’re our age and childless, last minute isn’t ever the way you like to make plans, especially if those plans involve cleaning up drool and poop. (Though let’s be fair, those costs are way outweighed by the lift in spirit you get from all those giggles.)
That leaves one demographic: ours. New parents. We’re part of a pretty close group of new moms and dads, most of whom live nearby. So it was to them we turned this weekend when we were facing an eventless Saturday, and there was movie that we really, really wanted to see. We suggested a trade: our baby now for your baby on an evening to be named later. We got a answer back in minutes — Claire & Greg graciously volunteering their energy to watch our little man while we went rumpus-ing.
We dropped him off at 3:45. I’m not sure when the separation anxiety starts, because he barely batted an eye as we turned our backs on him to leave. By 4:15 we had received a picture via email of him rolling around the house, having a ball. When we picked him up three hours later, we learned about his successful nap, multiple diaper changes, and photo sessions with his girlfriend Veronica:
Tomorrow we return the favor and watch V. while her parents get a chance to relax sans baby themselves. If all goes well, I expect this will be the beginning of a trend. I hope so. As much as we adore this boy, it’s important to get out and switch on our adult brains once in a while. (Though it’s often a real effort to steer our conversations away from everything baby.) A few hours is all we need, then we start to realize how much we miss the giggles and rush back to get our fix.