My parents just spent a week and a half with us, and despite a few of the typical parental visit annoyances, we had a lovely time with them. E especially had a GREAT time playing with my mom and making my dad say funny things over and over while laughing hysterically.

Best of all, John and I were very happy to leave E under their care for a few dates, something we do so infrequently. It's always interesting to me how our level of comfort on dates follow a very similar pattern. As we head out, having just left the kid, there is a giddiness and excitement that flows between us. Then when we reach our destination, there is a brief period of almost awkwardness where we acclimate to being alone together and come to the realization that we can completely focus on each other. I almost feel a sense of panic as I try to figure out what we can talk about besides E. Then before I know it, we are our old, childless selves, joking around, debating health care or which baseball team is better this season, flirting in that old married way, and just enjoying each other.

I love E in a way that is primal and intense. It is a kind of love that was unimaginable and impossible to understand before he arrived in my life. Watching him grow up is bittersweet because I love seeing the person he is growing into, but I know time is fleeting and he will soon be off doing his own things. So I cherish all of our time together, both ours alone and with the three of us. But enjoying an evening alone with John is a reminder of the kind of relationship we had before E and it offers a glimpse of what I have to look forward to again when E is older, when we can again focus almost exclusively on the amazing love that John and I share.