A Little Bit of Eye-Shadow...

I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror and realized something absolutely remarkable: (you ready for this?) I am wearing makeup.

Well, I guess I should amend that: I am STILL wearing makeup.

That's not such a big deal, really - I'll often swipe on some powder and mascara and leave it on for a few days (showering but not washing my eye makeup off - super time-saver) which is gross, but eh, whatever. No no no, what makes this special is that I've got the works on: smoky charcoal eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, eyebrow... stuff, blush. Wow!

Why? Why am I looking at a sultry-eyed reflection at 6 a.m.? Why is is significant that I am all sex pot-y (not to be confused with sex "potty" which is weird and gross) this morning?

I'll tell you.

I went on a DATE last night! With my amazing husband. For basically the first time in a decade. (Which is only a slight exaggeration.) I put on some smokin' hot makeup (never mind that I did it in the front seat of our minivan while I was waiting on him to put air in the tires at 7/11 on the way home from my dentist appointment) and put on a cute-ish dress and some charcoal tights and my fabulous 4-inch (how I missed you!) heels and tossed my hair in a slightly more calculated pony-tail and we went out to dinner!

The kids' "Pawpaw" is in town for the weekend and he so graciously volunteered to watch the kiddos to allow Justin and I a night out. There aren't many people out there who are willing to watch 3 kids under the age of 3 during the most hectic time of day... also known as Jordan's "witching hour" so we take advantage of him when he comes to town graciously allow him the opportunity to spend time with his looooovely grandkids.

What I won't consider is that we left the house at 4:45 and were done with dinner and home before 7. I won't point out that we used a gift certificate on dinner because we have this lame thing called a "budget" (his choice, not mine!) to adhere to, and I still ate inhaled my food in record-smashing time even though I didn't have hungry babies to feed. Who cares about all that? It was a date!

And it was AMAZING.

We sat in a darkish restaurant and held hands across the table and DID NOT talk (much) about the kids and laughed and remembered and looked forward and loved. It was w.o.n.d.e.r.f.u.l. We talked about politics and about our future and about the decisions we've made and about our faith and about our relationship and we determined that, with the exception of the politics thing, it's good. All of it. Hard, sometimes, yes, but good. We've made solid choices and we've faced adversity and we're about to embark on a totally new adventure but it is all good.

We talked about how lucky we are.

We discussed the Holy Roman Empire and NASA and old ladies and beer. We laughed at our own misfortunes and shook our heads at the impossibility of where we are today and tried to figure out how God's plan for us works and then laughed some more about the absurdity of trying to understand and agreed to just go along with it.

So long as we're together. My best friend and I.

And you know what else? We came home (we drove the long way) and discovered that all 3 kids were doing great and Pawpaw had survived. Jack had conned him into letting him sit in Jordan's high-chair for dinner (what?) but it was okay because he ATE dinner. The girls only barfed on him a little and didn't scream their banshee screams at him too many times.

It was a stinkin' great night. So I left my sexy eyes on so every time I look in the mirror today (okay, let's be serious: and tomorrow and probably the next day) I can remember how awesomely much I enjoyed The Date 2009...

It's the little things, right?