Confessions of a stay at home drama queen

Maybe Jason is right.

Maybe I just have way too much time on my hands to just... think. I've always thought of myself as an analytical person, and I would be ashamed of myself if I weren't candidly honest that YES I have always thought way too much, analyzed far too often, and scrutinized the details of my life for as long as I can remember.

Exhibit A would be the collection of ten journals paging through my life since second grade when all I could account for was recess flirting episodes with Jordan. Exhibit B would be the dozen parenting books I've accumulated over the past three years that I don't think my mom acquired in 30 years of raising me and my brother. I guess my hyperanalytical tendencies also reveal my English major in college when I was down right expected to pick everything apart into deep thought.

So what is it this time?

Embarrassingly enough, again it is the damn vampire saga that has its grips on me. Was. Yes, Twilight, books one through four. Over the summer I submersed myself in the writings out of pure curiosity, and was engaged enough to read it at a painstakingly fast pace that emptied my ibprofen bottle to aleviate headaches resulted from reading four-hundred pages a day.

Why then? Why now? I'm addicted to what some have noted as girl porn. Hilarious, right?

Well allow this romance novel phene to elaborate. I was halfway through the third novel this past week when I found myself stealing time away from the kids stacking blocks or going-to-school-to-visit-daddy pretend play so I could return to Edward Cullen's monologues to Bella Swan declaring his chivalrous idealizations.

"You see, Bella, I was always that boy. In my world, I was already a man. I wasn't looking for love-- no, I was far too eager to be a soldier for that; I thought nothing but the idealized glory of the war that they were selling prospective draftees then-- but if I had found... I was going to say if I had found someone, but that won't do. If i had found you, there isn't a doubt in my mind how I would have proceeded. I was that boy who would have-- as soon as I discovered that you were what I was looking for-- gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand. I would have wanted you for eternity, even when the word didn't have quite the same connotations."

Sigh. Reading this completely fictitious literature from an idyllic character such as Edward Cullen left me phening for more. A modern day Romeo. While reading through this my stepdaughter made mention, as she did this summer, that she and her friends didn't want to date in high school unless the guy was a glimmer of Edward. I was stunned for a moment and absorbed her thought. Edward is the quintessential romantic man comprised of countless alluring attributes so hey, why not pass up the normal warped high school boy until Mr. Edward comes along? Perhaps she had a point.

On the other hand is there a self destructing prophecy here? Are young women deluding themselves with "something with no literary or artistic value other than to stimulate desire” which is what pornography simply is according to the Webster’s dictionary definition? Except the difference here is women are being misled by female escapism, vicariously seeking a romantic fairy tale of our own when in reality fairy tales are fictional. Purely. Are women setting themselves up for failure searching for a new standard of the ideal man?

I'd be lying if I said I wan't stunned by the idea of Edward. I am certainly not alone [as you sit there shaking your head at the computer screen in disagreement]. Really-- there are Facebook pages devoted to people who have unrealistic expections of relationships now as a result of becoming addicted to Twilight [I write that as if FB is quantifying anything]! I mean, this is female escapism on a completely different level, and it's one thing to obscure my own mind with hopes that Jason would one day recite lines of Romeo and Juliet as easily as he normally would recount the first five plays of Penn State's last football game. But he is not Edward and he would not watch R&J with me nor have the knowledge to whisper the lines to me like Edward, a la New Moon. And that's okay... because Jason is a real live man and most men I know don't suck blood either, so I'm fine with that.

I'm not proclaiming chivalry is dead but I am trying to reign in my thoughts a bit about the reality of expectations in relationships, and maybe trying to unveil them to my stepdaughter too.

Okay maybe more to myself.

Just as soon as I finish Breaking Dawn.

Lost in translation. And then found, again.

Prior to motherhood I used to think it was borderline ridiculous when I overheard families in public deciphering toddler speak as if it were as eloquent as my literature professor second semester Junior year in college.

Does it ever strike anyone else how indeterminable kids can sometimes sound when they are learning to speak? But to the child's parent[s] it's no sweat off the back to understand that Maddie just wanted to have her Elmo cup and some grapes please. Wow, that mom needs to get out more I would think with pity.

Now I am the resident toddler interpreter.

Prior to summer when Jason arrived home after a day of teaching and coaching, the kids eagerly wanted to talk to him; and it was fairly normal if not expected for him to look at them cross-eyed, shrug, and then look to me for a translation.

As the school year began to wind down I excitedly told him, "Just think: before the end of the second week you're home, you will be able to decode the babblings of the toddler ramblings."

How exciting!

I was looking forward to have some peace in knowing that someone else could spring to his feet when Peyton said "Buh buh" at the kitchen table while pointing to his cup, and could then get Peyton his milk. Buh and cup sound nothing alike, I realize. But tiny utterances that somehow I managed to decode these past three years, I was looking forward to Jason understanding too.

Then about a month ago we were getting the boys ready for bed. Each of us takes one of the boys and preps him for bathtime, then assists with the last chug of milk for the day, scrubbing the teeth, and a nighttime story. That night, Jason had Peyton, my mommy's-boy-until-daddy-came-home-this-summer boy.

"Listen to this, honey," Jason urged me while holding Peyton in his arms before tucking him in for the night. Jason leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

"Yah yew," Peyton said beaming at me.

"What's yellow, buddy?" I asked curious. Yellow is the new blue, his former favorite color. Every single object is yellow even if you tell him 57 times it was red with absolute certainty.

Another whisper in Peyton's ear.

"Mommy, yah yew," he said again smiling.

"Thank you?" I asked shrugging my shoulders in question. "For what, sweetie?" Yellow and thank you sound so much the same. Okay not really, but when he says it there is a subtle distinction between the two. I must have missed it the first time.

Jason smiled at Peyton and looked at him in the eyes and then over at me, still confused. I was beginning to feel out of place in my own job as a mom.

"I love you, Peyton," Jason said softly.

"Yah yew, Da-doo," he returned with a smile stretched across his face and gleaming at me looking for approval.

My first "I love you," and I was lost in freakin' translation. I conceded to squealing and showered him with kisses for a solid 45 seconds.

Jason earned his linguistics badge this summer, and though I missed the boat on a few occassions like the above, every now and then I have a moment when I'm reminded I still understand the kids. Pretty well.

Because this morning as Jason got the boys up to start the day, I heard Peyton following Jason from their room to the kitchen.

"Dodo! Dodo!"

"Yes, Peyton, daddy is here."

A minute later, "Mew, mew! Meeeew!"

"A cow? What cow, Peyton?"

I smiled to myself knowing that Peyton's first request was for his favorite stuffed animal dog that sleeps at his crib side "guarding" him nightly.

And the second remark was asking for his favorite book, Goodnight Moon. One that I happen to love reading to him. Maybe a little rusty, but I still haven't lost my touch. For now.

Enjoying the ride

Delayed as ever, I decided to take up the offer to join the Twilight band wagon and began reading the saga series last week.

I've never read Harry Potter or other mythical series like Lord of the Rings or Percy Jackson. I just don't really "do" fantasy-like books. Nothing personal against J.K. Rowling, but I'm just more acclimated with tragic drama and romance to really take up the idea of fiction beyond my imagination [or reality for that matter].

So why not read on some vampires and werewolves, right?

I'm currently finishing the third novel, Eclipse, in the saga series which should indicate that it's suspended my disbelief in fantasy fiction having any deeming qualities.

I have one confession, however, but I'll get to that later.

As I mentioned I am a fan of romance and usually reread one of my Nicholas Sparks novels and become indulged in the twisted fate of a couple who fall in love and likely ends in tragedy. I'll admit that some end happily, but mostly always end tragically; regardless, I read these tear jerkers repeatedly with the same result. Another trip to Costco's to replenish the tissue supply in our house. So why do I do that?

I asked myself the same questions about the Twilight series, but the question was phrased more like... why do I like this stuff?!

My step-daughter is also a pretty big fan of the series, being that all I've read is borrowed from her Twilight shelf of her bookcase. She'll be fifteen this Fall. When I was her age, I definitely focused on falling in love and looked for it everywhere, to put things mildly. I don't know that her thinking is quite as warped as mine was. I suspect she wonders what the love fall is all about too.

She forwarned me the second book in the series was a bore to her before I started the book this weekend. I finished it on Sunday and realized her boredom was due to the absense of details pertaining to the passion of falling in love that are exemplified in book one and three. I'm sure it's all over the final book as well, I just haven't reached that point yet. Without saying it, she too was drawn to the acute details of the two people falling in love-- the sheer physical, emotional and mental states that are completely overpowered by nature. Perhaps that intrigued her in a way of not having experienced that euphoria, the same way I would have viewed it at fifteen.

Enter: confession. At twenty-seven, I still look at it similarly, but in a way of nostalgia.

In a way of totally and completely missing it.

We lucky ones who have made a journey in our life and managed to fall helplessly, sometimes blindly, in love can remember the unbelievable array of emotions resulted from that first trip.

I was well into college when I realized that I was helplessly in love with a coach, yes my coach I met the last three months of my senior high school year, who I kept in contact with after graduating. I remember the visits to my dorm, our dinners out to local restaurants and the electricity that seemed to flow from him to me, and how the cheeks on my face would blush instantly when I thought about being around him. To say I had butterflies in my stomach with or without him in my proximity was a vast understatement and just one of the many physical results I felt after crashing head over heels in love.

I remember the first time he kissed me and how it literally left me breathless. When he returned to his home after that visit I remember replaying that kiss in my memory leaving me without oxygen again and again.

Poetic conversations, and lofty ideas of what the future could hold. I repeatedly thought of these words endlessly over in my mind during the time we spent a part. When I wasn't with him, I was completely out of myself and loathed the idea of feeling incomplete. Without any reservations I was overpowered by the notion that he was the one I would spend the rest of my life with, unquestionably.

The journey of falling in love is a profound, albeit an amazing experience too. I feel dismayed right now as I'm staggering through these vampire novels because it acknowledges that the high of falling in love is a temporary state, something I obviously knew before now. At the time, you feel compelled the emotions could last forever, and when it fades I think it's safe to say you miss it. Being in love is quite different and soon follows "the fall". The former almost always requires a commitment of faith and unlike the latter is not necessarily an amazing act of nature.

Regardless of the literature that gets me to relive those early days of our relationship, to be able to recount and revisit that experience vicariously through fictionalized characters, even vampires dare I say, is totally worth it.

Just in case you forgot

I am a Jon & Kate Plus 8 naysayer.

Most of the time when a friend asks if I watch it, I groan. I have three of those things I call offspring and so no, I steer away from shows devoted to the chaos "they" bring after they are in bed.

But yes, I have seen the above show. Sometimes in desperation I watched for a mere two minutes until Kate mouthed off to her husband or snapped at her kids then passed a knowing eye-roll to the camera crew. I avoid it because they've created a brand out of their family. Don't misunderstand that I just have a vengence for Jon & Kate, because I also scrutinize the Duggar's and other crazy Octomom type charades blasted over the vicious channels of media these days.

But last night I shamefully sat on my chair watching the overly publicized season opener of Jon & Kate Plus 8 which may have been the kiss of death for the show. And rightfully so.

The parents are just like me and Jason. No, well, not really. I just mean that they are a mom and a dad trying to raise their kids who are just numerically beyond the norms of society. And they've been taped by a camera crew, coached by a producer, and assisted by publicists but otherwise they are just parents.

And so to people like me, who mostly live under a rock when it comes to reality television, I understood in advance that there was some type of speculation of adultery going on off-camera as I watched last night while they danced around "the topic". If you've shopped at a grocery store in the past six months you could not have avoided their pictures plastered across the tabloids in the check out aisle. It was out of the question to avoid this topic on their own show.

I watched the train wreck as their premiere went from happy-awkward children's birthday party to estranged Barbara Walters style interviews focusing on each parent separately who discussed their point of view on the demise of their marriage currently dissolving before American family room TVs.

At one point, Kate pondered how their marriage got to this point, and how to fix it. You've got to be kidding me.

This is what gets me. As a mom and a wife, I completely understand how things can get skewed in a marriage making life at home a bit uneasy. I totally get that.

But to be baffled after signing over the privacy of your life to mainstream media that one day it crumbles at your feet? This is basic decision making 101. Pros and cons weigh our every day decisions, and if it was an afterthought that maybe turning family into celebrity may be a hefty con then at least while you're tumbling down hill in a hurry with your marriage and kids in the crux of the fall make a daunting escape to salvage what you may.

Before having kids I think we are all misled a bit. Friends and family promise you that the parenting gig is a priceless but difficult one. It's exhausting, but if you knew now what you knew then you would still do it all over again. And so I know that the peaks, valleys and mountains that me and Jason have faced already is only a picture of what's to come in our hopefully long journey together. But those are quasi-normal difficulties without the added influx of fame, money and media overexposure in our lives.

But I certainly hope and damn near expect that if a decision we made as a couple began to unravel our family I would make a graceful exit. Pronto.

It comes down to our priorities. Like I said, I know things get clouded when you're parenting. But turn off the damn cameras and focus on your family. My heart bleeds for these kids who are in the center of this mess. It's a sick twist in irony to see how a show that began because of the multiples, all eight of them, are now going to ultimately suffer as a result of it.

And any parent no matter how clouded their vision can plainly see that.

The trivial Mother's Day confession

I wish I could inject some humor into today's writing.

But it's not here.

I haven't, in fact, been here for a bit. This spring has been hectic in the most modest of terms. I have a love-hate relationship with this season as it is finally an end to cabin fever, but it also resumes to the craziest time of year because Jason is a track coach and spends 86% of the week away from home which I realize is still less than some.

With the toddler boys and a teenage lady of the house it makes my world spin on its side a little longer. Coincidentally I also find that I tend to appreciate my kids much less these three months out of the year which only furthers my bittersweet sentiments toward spring.

To add to this Jason has been going through a whirlwind of sorts too. Nine years ago, he met various doctors and underwent second opinions of a diagnosis doctors conceived was Multiple Sclerosis.

Jason at his very core, is an intense athlete and exudes the physique of an Olympic runner, in my very bias opinion. He's very inward about his diagnosis, and rarely talks about it to people mostly because I think he wants to avoid the very stereotype associated with MS-- disability. After trying two different medicines over the past nine years and without any physical episodes since the original in 2000 and his MRIs only showing improvement we decided to speak with a neurologist closely focused on MS instead of a doctor dealing with a dozen different neurological ailments.

The search to find someone at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital was not difficult. So about a month and a half ago we set out on a new journey with a doctor who is on the cutting edge and directing the neurology department at UPenn. His resident who spoke with us for 45 minutes even seemed to allude to a misdiagnosis.

"Most people I see in here are female, or unfortunately overweight. You seem to miss both of those characteristics, I see," he said making light of the situation.

We even spoke with Jason's doctor for another half an hour but his feelings seemed to be more realistic I suppose. "Your father has MS, too, correct?" he said grimly. We nodded in agreement and he resumed to order more MRIs, an eye scan, and a lumbar puncture [LP] which Jason never opted to do nine years ago which also happens to be the most critical diagnostic test used in pinpointing MS. I could see Jason cringe in his seat squirming at the thought of a nine inch needle entering his spine.

What Jason feared most ended up happening... probably in most senses of what he imagined being the worst. He never complains. He never appears to be scared of anything. He leads the optimistic conversation in our home and in his classroom, yet I knew he was scared of the possible migraines to follow the LP. He was in the 3% who earned the god-awful migraines that tapered off after two weeks.

I never wavered in my support. For the first time in years I mowed the lawn- several times, in fact. With a freaking reel push mower. On a half acre. After a week of rain. Complaints were out of question when I would think of what Jason was going through. The boys were out of control as we were stuck inside while all the rain in our backyards kept them caged, and with Jason in such pain he had no "Daddy Energy" for them either and I come nowhere close to that level. I have a new found respect for single moms who do it all and do it well. Because I was exhausted.

Then last week we met with the neurologist who confirmed the second fear.

"You still have MS, Jason."

I don't think I remember so much of the smaller details of that conversation. Eye scan was great. MRIs showed growth in lesion quantities in the brain and the spine. The LP was positive for MS.

"But isn't there a benign MS," I retorted. "Because I've read about this new category of MS," just in case he missed that on the latest Google searches.

"Jason hasn't relapsed in nine years, so couldn't stay in remission--"

"His MS is active. His brain is just keeping up with the growth and he doesn't show the physical affects of it," the doctor said cutting me off.

The hour and a half drive home was pretty quiet. I'm pretty sure that those words were chilling to me. They burned in my mind as we drove home. What does this mean? It means he is back on the shots and continues training and fighting it like hell. Because it means he doesn't know if and when it will show up again and if it does how strong it will be or if it will go away quite as easily as it did nine years ago.

That night I retold the facts of the appointment to family repeatedly as Jason tried to relax for the night probably running the months' events over in his mind without mentioning it to me.

A few days later I was looking forward to a day. Selfishly enough I was looking forward to Mother's Day. I'm a believer in age old selfish events like my birthday and new indulgent ones celebrating my new found love of being a mom.

The embarrassed part of me admits now how hurt I was when I walked out to the kitchen on Sunday only to find two cards from my kids. They were sweet and endearing, and Jason printed pictures on the outside of the envelopes which I carefully opened with a steak knife for safekeeping. I secretly hoped that my card from Jason was hiding somewhere in the house with a bouquet of flowers or something. As the day wore on, it became more obvious it just wasn't happening.

It was a huge conflict of emotions. A part of me felt so hurt that I didn't even get a "Hey, Wifey, I love you for all that you do and what you've been through with me this past month and all those before... and for everything you do at home 24/7. Oh and enjoy the wildflowers too."

The other part was thinking, "You idiot, how can you expect that? Your husband is in a tornado right now! You can't be in the forefront of his world, when he doesn't even know what end is up."

So there, I admit it. I was swindled by Hallmark, 1-800-Flowers, and the five-star hotel down the road a bit who hosts a lavish Mother's Day brunch. So when the kids napped, I painted our bathroom with Jason and then I prepared the grilled feast I was serving to my in-laws for the occasion. A drained mother I was, and I felt resentful for it. Our evening ended on a more dramatic note than I had hoped as all of my emotions guiltily surfaced. It was what it was.

But this husband of mine is the same one who took inspiration from my favorite book, The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks, for Christmas this year and built me my very own art easel, purchased some canvas, a set of brushes, and oil-based paints. He also accompanied all of this with the movie.

So he gets a free pass for this Mother's Day because I know it was certainly out of character for him to bypass a holiday attributed to his hormonal emotionally-charged wife. In the end, I realize to appreciate what I have as he suggested. To him, he meant the cards with my kids' pictures printed on the envelopes.

To me, I realize that I've been given much more in these past five years of marriage, and much more than what could be wrapped up in a holiday. He's okay, right now. I certainly hope the MS continues to avoid being physically present in my husband's nervous system, but for the nine years it abstained from harming him and the many more years I hope it continues in that same manner... that I've realized, is exactly what we need.

Sgt Pepper's, Torchy's and eight other reasons I loved Austin

I think it was literally after I unbuckled my "safety belt" in the plane in Austin that I could feel a different vibe of the city, and began to take on a new persona myself: Steph, and no longer Mommy. Half a country away from home, but I strangely felt at ease knowing our new home-away-from-home was only five minutes from the terminal with a cold Mexican beer and smokey homemade fajitas steaming. But wait! Our kids were not attached to our hips! My arms felt empty without a stroller to push, or diaper bag strapped to my back. My voice was not hoarse from its echoing mantra of "Mason. Stop. Peyton. No." Justine is a self sufficient teenager and requires little beckoning unless it includes a checklist of, "Homework? done. Dirty clothes? laundered. Showered? smelling like a rose." It's a broken record but doesn't require a droning voice and draining source of energy needed for toddler boys. How could this new place feel normal? Quite simply, I learned.

Yes. A second honeymoon. That idea could easily be followed by a third... fourth... maybe fifth honeymoon anytime soon. Just as soon as that stimulus check in debate could kindly float into our mailbox I would gladly hop a plane to Austin with Jason at a moment's notice.

Austin was awesome. And really, as a fellow Austinian commented to me and Jason as we awaited our flight in Baltimore, "Five days is plenty of time for y'all to fall in love with Austin." We certainly did. It wasn't even warm-- freezing by their accounts [all 60 degrees of it which is a heat wave to us Northeasterners].

Here are just a few reasons why you should book a trip to Austin and when you do try to hit up some of the recommended spots as I became a Tex-Mex junkie before leaving to come back to cow-pie country.

1. Citizens of Austin are just friendly. It's borderline weird to me for complete strangers to start talking to me in public as I'm wary of what they might sell me or how easily they pick my pockets only to find dryer lint. They are really just that nice.
2. You will soon realize how far behind your own community is in becoming a green town. Their recycling "bins" are as large as my trashcans, and their trashcan is as small as my recycling bin. Their roads are only littered with a few sparse SUVs, and the traffic is jammed with economy cars, and hybrids. Smaller is better and most people opt for that. Recycling is everywhere; farmer's markets abound with fresh-from-the-garden awesome food finds. Gardens are fairly common, and this leads me to number three...


3. East Side Cafe is unbelievable. It's a small restaurant based out of an old converted home. They have a large garden that produces a host of fresh veggies that make their way to becoming features on the menu when they're harvested. The flavors are fantastic from appetizer to desserts, and their adjacent gift shop has wonderful one-of-a-kind finds. It also happens to be the employer a favorite sister-in-law of mine, so perhaps I'm a bit biased.


4. Okay so a lot of the trip revolved around food. They have some uh-may-zing places that are great but won't break the bank. My favorite place was Torchy's. I insisted going there for round two after we ate lunch one of the days and I tasted the Fried Avocado Taco. Who knew you could fry avocado? The next day I enjoyed the Baja Shrimp Taco which was the best in my opinion. Hands down-- great bite to eat, and it was worth every penny of my ten dollar bill.
5. Bob Schneider. Need I say more? In addition to fabulous food, my brother and sister-in-law have found some of the best music in Austin and Mr. Schneider is the top of the list. Now, whenever I put his music in the stereo of our basement, it takes me back to Austin despite the toy-littered basement and two toddler maniacs running around me.
6. Going to the movies these days is enough to break the bank, but it was completely worth the money to see Seven Pounds [which I totally recommend] at The Alamo downtown in Austin. Obviously this has nothing in common with the infamous battlegrounds of the historic Alamo in San Antonio other that its shared name. This movie theater doubles as a restaurant, and serves up some delicious food. The lighting is dim, but worth the extra effort of focusing on food-to-mouth action and that on the big silver screen in front of you. Order up drinks, appetizers, and dinners as often as you'd like until "last call". Could it get any better than that?
7. Blue sky. Yea I know this is abundant just about anywhere, except for perhaps the smog-ridden areas of the good ol' USA, but the sky in Austin just seemed to stretch on forever. Colleen remarked to me one day that when they moved there, she couldn't get enough of the sky. It was so blue, and encompassed such a vast area that wasn't polluted with gray skies and smog. And I had to agree. Maybe not worth a $200 ticket to fly there, but I definitely enjoyed the perk of seeing it every day.
8. As mentioned a few numbers up, I fell in love with the fresh farmer's markets. The massive Whole Foods store was enough to be stifled by, but I thoroughly enjoyed walking from tent to tent at one of the farmer's market locations in town. We went at ten in the morning, but that didn't hold me back from enjoying some fresh Thai vegetarian egg rolls, red curry sauce, or chipolte pesto. The last on my list has become my obsession or sorts. Sgt. Pepper's pestos are fantastic. I purchased four containers, froze them, brought them home safely, and currently I am contemplating contacting the owner to send me more if I pre-pay in advance. From roasted jalapeno, to Serrano cilantro, to the less spicy black olive pesto, the flavors are amazing. The New Mexican red chile pesto lasted all but about four days in the fridge before I was tempted to lick the container clean. I wish there were an easier way to obtain it. GO GLOBAL Sgt Pepper's!
9. It was an odd feeling to literally feel like the oldest 26 year old on the Longhorn campus, but as a proud sister of a Longhorn graduate student we graced the UT grounds. Despite my insecurities, the college town is beautiful, as much as it is a tight knit community. I went to a small university, so really any campus over 15,000 students exudes an unparalleled camaraderie that I'm unaccustomed to experiencing. I would have loved to go to school there, but it was just as cool going there as a visitor.
10. Lastly, the best parts of Austin were hanging out with Josh and Colleen, and Jason. Reconnecting with my husband was long overdue, but just as much was missing out on my brother and his wife who at times just seem two damn far away. But that type of bonding can take place anywhere. It was just much more worthwhile to do this out of the proximity of our lovely darlings and instead in the comfort of their beautiful surroundings.

Cheers to Austin, finding family and regaining a marriage.

Cheap, hot date ideas... okay maybe they're just cheap

Flat line the bank account or grab dinner with my husband to escape the craziness of parenthood for one night? What a quandary.
Unfortunately I’m afraid this is the sentiment of all too many people in recent months as it seems fraudulent CEOs are just about as plentiful as the steady decline in personal stocks, checking and savings accounts nationwide.
While maintaining some gross income for the family to eat and stay warm for the week are the top of my priority list, so too is the priority of my marriage. But how to do date night on as little cash as possible has become a challenge of sorts. Perhaps you too are thinking how it is possible to get out of the house to breathe away from the kids, pile of laundry, mountain of junk mail, and never-ending overly ambitious to-do list that popped up post-New Year’s.
Below find some cheap if not completely do-able date ideas as we approach the hallmark-y holiday of holidays: Valentine’s. [If you’re a VD-hater, opt any choice below for any time other than feb 14!]
Most would require you to find a babysitter which also implies more money spent which may leave you digging in the couch cushions before you head out the door. Instead, if you have friends with kids, trade off. One week is your night without kids as they watch your darlings and vice versa for the week after.

• Make a thermos of hot cocoa [perhaps with or without irish cream] and go for a scenic walk or drive
• Cook-in with each other AFTER the kids go to bed, and do a dinner with movie inside the comfort and warmth of your own home… perhaps even in your pjs. RedBox is now available in many grocery stores nationwide for as little as $1 a day for a DVD rental! [check out www.redbox.com to find a location near you!]
• Enjoy some local music at a coffee house, or the like, over a cheap cup of coffee, tea or chai
• Rise early on the weekend and visit the local farmer’s market, where fresh food, free samples and sometimes music abound
• Physical activities are always free, healthy and beautiful. Dust off the bike, slip on your running shoes, or pack up some hiking gear and do something together.
• After eating dinner “in” go out for dessert to share. Whether warm apple pie a la mode or crème brulèe.
• Visit the galleries of local art schools during year-end shows
• Volunteer for something together-- whether its an event for disease awareness or helping out at the soup kitchen once a week
• Post-bedtime for the kids, turn on some music and dance together. Okay so maybe I couldn’t take myself that seriously, but we can’t afford dance lesson so self-taught activities will have to suffice.
• Adult beverage on order? Mix your own cosmo and throw it in a mug, with your hubby’s Corona and take a walk down town, or around your neighborhood if you’re not that thrill seeking to drive with alcohol in the car. Who’s going to pull over your mini-van any way, in search of open adult beverages?
  

When in doubt, there’s always just good conversation on a comfortable cushion in the family room couch, but I do dare to live on the side of wild from time to time.

Go ahead. Be crazy, and indulge in the romantic life of a thrifty Juliet.