Dinner for Two

   

     That crystalline lake matched the sparkle and hue of my children's eyes and the tip tops of the jagged peaks were still dusted with snow. Just out of frame were cherry red canoes that dotted the blue and, from our perch high up on the hotel balcony, they looked as if they were barely moving. Seems like yesterday that the photo was taken. Those now adult children were 10 and 8 and we were vacationing in the Canadian Rockies.  Thousands of mental picture postcards, as well as the days and years, can rush by like a slide show on fast forward.
     From the moment our babies were born we knew the days would come when they would make their own way in the world. The family vacations would be farther and fewer between. The dropping off and picking up would abruptly stop when the drivers' licenses were earned. Family dinners for four would be replaced by romantic dinners for two. Romantic? Yes, I said it. Romantic. My husband and I have been planning and looking forward to our days alone for a long, long time.
     Don't misunderstand. I've loved every stage of raising children. Granted, I wish my son's terrible twos hadn't lasted for four years and I think I could have happily skipped, or at least shortened, my days spent with an adolescent girl, but all in all it's been a very sweet ride that we knew wouldn't last forever.
     When those kids were babies we promised each other that our goal was to give them life, raise them right and increase their responsibilities in ever larger increments so that once they hit 18 they didn't go plunging off a deep end and drown in stupid decisions. And we committed to making our marriage the number one priority and our children the second. I know that sounds backwards but we believed that a happy couple makes better parenting decisions. And for all the times that we weren't happy, when I foolishly swore I'd pack a bag and leave, better sense prevailed. We remembered our promise to stick it out for richer and for poorer, in good times and through wildly raging hormones. They're grown and the hours they spend with us are dwindling fast.
     New parents are always to told to cherish every day and every moment because time flies and you can't get it back. But they also need to know to nurture their own relationship because once those kids are gone it's just the two of you staring across the dinner table. It's easy to get caught up in the kid's schedules and never pencil in a dinner date or weekend away with your partner. When you feel like you're ragged around the edges and mentally frayed and when you're too tired to even think about a romantic dinner...that's the exact time you need to plan one.