Why I Cling to Date Night

My husband and I joke that we grew up together. That's not exactly true—we met while in college, so by voting standards, we were adults. But of course, if you look at our wedding photo, we look like we were adolescents, at best. I met him the very first day of my freshman year of college; our first date came about one year later; a year after that, we were engaged, and the following year, we were married.

And then the babies came: one, two, three four. Our kids are the loud, bustling, sometimes self-destructive center of our universe right now. A household with young children, as all parents know, is ruled by naps, feeding schedules, diapers, diapers and more diapers, crazy antics to get a defiant toddler to eat their peas, terrifying, middle-of-the-night trips to the ER, giggles, tickles, excited phone calls to tell everyone in the world, "He said 'Ma-Ma!!'" There's the daily worrying and second-guessing, hoping you're doing the right things to raise a responsible, smart, independent, compassionate human being.

Then, as an afterthought, is your marriage. Raising children is a 24/7 marathon that lasts for 18 years. Who has time for deep conversations or romantic getaways?

Our very first date was spectacular. He scored box seats at the opera. We tentatively held hands for the first time as the soprano's voice soared over us. I will never forget it.

But marriage changes things. And once the babies came, we weren't going to the opera. We were lucky to stay awake for a movie on the VCR after we had tucked everyone in bed.

Somewhere along the line, we started fighting for the right to date night.

I probably read it in a magazine article somewhere—that regular dates strengthen a relationship—so at some point, we started scheduling date nights. We wrote them in on the calendar, just like we pencil in doctor's appointments and haircuts. For a while, we had date mornings. There was a stretch where our night-owl kids ate up every free moment of our evenings, so we set the clock for 5 a.m. so we could sneak downstairs while our babes slept in their beds. He would run over to the local bakery and pick up a warm cherry strudel, and we'd toast the new morning with steaming cups of coffee.

Every so often, the powers that be can foil date night: a babysitter cancels, or a child gets a fever. Guilt is a powerful deterrent, too: A couple times, we've literally had to peel sobbing children off our ankles as we left for a night out.

Even our budget has tried to ruin date night. But we've learned that dates don't have to cost a thing: some of my favorite dates have been walks in a nearby forest preserve, or a picnic on a blanket. Once, we even went to the library together. Go ahead and laugh, but when you spend 100% of trips to the library in the bookshelves squeezed between Dr. Seuss and Curious George, sometimes you just want to see what the grown-up section has to offer.

I still love date night with my husband. We've made it through diapers, spit up, tantrums and potty training, and it turns out we still really like each other. And yes, we find things to talk about other than our kids. Thank goodness. We still have the teen years to weather together, though. Then, in a blink of an eye, the kids will be grown and leaving the nest. When they're all gone, beginning their own life stories, I cling to the hope that I'll still be able to look into his eyes and see that young boy who, back when we were kids, took me to the opera once.