Hurdle
When you don’t have the option of asking family members to babysit your child(ren), you either learn to rely on other people, or you never have time to work, or time for yourself or for your marriage.
When we hired a nanny in LA to care for Mini once a week while I worked, it was a slow adjustment for me. Weeks passed before I felt comfortable with the arrangement. Then, I was thankful for it—for her.
I procrastinated finding this type of help in Miami, but my difficulty managing time—and the growing list of personal and professional tasks that I wasn’t accomplishing due to said difficulty—drove me to do it, and I did it. We found help. Eight hours a week to myself for aforementioned tasks, plus a weekend evening here and there for marriage maintenance (not a romantic term, but that’s what it is, isn’t it?!).
Last night was the first time, ever, that we left Mini with someone who wasn’t family—not for work, but so that we could go out.
Before leaving the house I fumbled with my shoes and purse. The sitter reassured me: “Call me every five minutes, if you want.” Mister and I drove in silence, which is rare for us. We arrived at the Wynwood Art Walk, a once-a-month event in a gallery-filled area of Miami when the galleries stay open into the night and offer drinks and music. We parked. We met friends. At some point the knots in my stomach loosened. At 9:30 I called the sitter. Everything was fine.
Everything was fine.
By the time we drove home, I felt hyper with this new reality: We can go out, at night, not only when our family is in town, but on a regular basis. Until Babytwo is born in four short months, that is. Then we reset the timer.
We walked into the house. I looked at the sitter. I said, “We did it.”
She laughed, walked out the door, and said, “See you on Monday.”
Hurdle jumped.
