Dear Z,

Last night we were given our second date night since J was born. Your mom was in town and she insisted that we leave for a little while and take advantage of this opportunity for uninterrupted time together.

She couldn’t have given us a greater gift. We thought through the options: go for a walk in our neighborhood, see a movie at the nearby theater, use the rock climbing gym gift certificate you gave to me for my birthday back in January, maybe get some dessert at a restaurant.

We ended up going to Whole Foods and buying an extravagant amount of mochi (the ‘ch’ pronounced like Christmas, not church, yes that’s the hill I’m dying on) – 6 for $10. Then we took them upstairs, above the wine gallery, near a group of men discussing basketball, and picked a table near the railing. From there we could slowly work our way through our dessert and do some people watching.

Compared to our first date, strolling through a Babies-R-Us (R.I.P.) to find some teethers for the little guy while my parents were in town, this was a bit less utilitarian. As we shared our treat, first mango, then cookies and cream, you told me how easy it was to talk with your mom in person.

You told me how you both responded to J’s crying with the same words and intonation, how you both love walking around our neighborhood, sharing cups of tea, and tackling a bar of dark chocolate together. You told me how it can be hard to remember these things with the artificial medium of a phone call.

As we continued through the mochi (next vanilla, then salted caramel), I told you about a lackluster day of work, then asked a “what if”:

“What if you could take one of the massive wheels of cheese home with you but had to finish it in a week?”

“If I can share it, yes! If not, then never. I’d gain twenty pounds.”

Our conversation jumped from silly to sad to serious future-planning and back to silly again, as it often does.

Finishing the last two treats (coffee and strawberry), we descended back downstairs and picked up a little babysitting gift for your mom as we strolled through the store and out to the car. You noticed a stack of lovely artisanal baskets at the door, remarking that they looked almost too good to place mere groceries in. To my utter delight, you picked one up and acted out how one would have to walk with such a basket (fancy with a dash of pretentious).

As we strolled out into the cool evening air, you took hold of my arm. I took a deep breath and relished one of our first moments since J was born just taking our time. No phone calls or text messages to the babysitter, no running into the next room to make sure J hadn’t pulled a blanket over his face, or rolled off the big living room chair he was snoozing on.

When we returned home, it was only because we missed our little guy and wanted to finish our night with him in our arms. Needless to say, we’re obsessed with him. Mochi and all, our date was still barely longer than an hour.

Yours,

S