I think the number one question I’m asked in connection with this space is how I make time for my husband and myself, in the midst of running my own business and taking care of two kids. And my usual answer is, “Who, now? What? Oh, you think my husband and I have quality time? Ahahahahahahaha!”

That’s a terrible answer, by the way. I don’t recommend it.

In the grand scheme of my various life responsibilities, I think I fall down on the job most often in my role as wife. And I don’t say that because I think I should be ironing my husband’s shirts, or anything like that, but because my husband is of the longsuffering sort. The kids need me. Clients need me. My husband is patient, and just about always willing to sit back while I tend to those who need me “more,” which is both awesome and sad. I love that his tolerance is so high, but I hate that it has to be. He deserves just as much (more?) of me as everything else.

Tonight we’re stepping out, and I couldn’t be happier.

This was actually very hard for me—harder than it probably should’ve been.

We received an invitation for a fancy dinner. Perfect! Except that:
1) I think we’ve been out on a school night exactly once,
2) We’ve used a sitter only a handful of times since marrying two years ago,
and
3) We are currently without a sitter.

The last time we used a sitter was sort of a landmark event, for me. My kids didn’t used to be rotten for babysitters; it was always sort of a treat, for them. But the last time we had a sitter I realized that my kids are older now, and at a tricky age. A young teen was a perfectly acceptable sitter when my kids were in preschool. A young teen when my daughter is nearly eleven is a recipe for disaster. (And it was a disaster. A disaster completely of my own making, because apparently I am not good enough at math to realize that only having a few years difference in age between my daughter and the sitter could only spell trouble.)

My kids aren’t old enough to be left alone, yet, but they’re too old to have a teen watch them.

Which meant I had to find a new sitter, and also that I needed to be prepared to pay a much higher rate.

My solution to this issue was to… not go out. Well, that’s not entirely true—when my kids visit their dad, we go out. And for one event a friend of ours was kind enough to host an extended playdate while we went out. But we haven’t had a bona fide sitter in months.

And now we have a fancy dinner to attend, and my husband started making “it’s not that big of a deal” noises, which kind of broke my heart.

Because it is a big deal, and we need to do more of this sort of thing, not less. This is the man who takes my kids to school every morning, who is down in the trenches of parenting with me, and who happily takes them out of the house for an entire day so that I can work. He has gone above and beyond the call of stepparent duty, so far as I’m concerned. He deserves a nice night out with his wife’s full attention.

So I found a sitter, and for the first time in my entire life I’m leaving the kids with someone I’ve never even met, before. (She comes highly recommended, I know people who have used her, and she’s been background checked. This is still hard for me, but I know it’s going to be fine.) Tonight I’m going to put on a fancy dress and pretty shoes and take a night off from work and the kids and focus on my husband, who happens to be one of my very favorite people.

And it’s about damn time.