I had a few ideas for what to give Steve for Father's Day yesterday, but I wasn't sold on any of them. He had suggested a gift card for some woodworking classes, but I wanted to give him a gift he could use right away. I contemplated buying him a hammock for the back yard, but I suspected it would not be enjoyed as much as we'd like to think and would probably just get grimy and take up real estate back there. I tried to think about what he really wanted and could use, and it was obvious: some sleep, and some time away from the daily grind, I mean miracle, of parenting a toddler and newborn.

We had known about night nurses since Paul was a newborn but the idea seemed too frivolous to consider seriously at the time. Now that our workload has doubled, however, it seemed like a more rational idea (especially since my friend Sara, who is a normal person, confessed to hiring one and I figured if she was happy with the experience, then maybe it was worth trying.) I investigated two different companies from a basic Google search: one was called Sweet Dreams and the other Bliss Newborn Care. Bliss was slightly less expensive than Sweet Dreams but, more importantly, was the one that Sara had used, so after a phone consultation I booked them for Saturday night for Steve's and my usual sleep schedule: 9:30 PM - 7:30 AM. Just to round the night out, I hired a babysitter for the evening and made dinner reservations at Quince, a nice restaurant in Evanston. The last time Steve and I had been out, just the two of us, for a meal was March 12 so I was ready for some adult time (not to mention some where I could enjoy eating and drinking without a child stomping around in my uterus.)

I decided to make this all a surprise, and reserved Saturday night under the pretense that my cousin Regina and her husband Jeff would be coming over for dinner. This was the only part of the plan where Steve suspected anything, because Jeff and Regina have two small children and he couldn't understand why they would get a babysitter only to come over to see boring old us, but whatever. A small benefit to this plan was that Steve started tidying the house a little bit before the babysitter came over, too, which I suppose I could have discouraged, but we were hosting my parents the next day, so I took it.

About a half hour before the babysitter came, I started saying to Steve, "I keep meaning to tell you something, but I forgot," which is actually something we say around here all the time because we both have diminshed brain capacity. When the doorbell rang, I said, "I remember now what I was going to tell you: Jeff and Regina aren't coming over--we're going to Quince! So let's get dressed!"

A difference between Kid #1 and Kid #2 is that with Kid #1, about the first 10 times we had babysitters over I worried I wasn't telling the babysitter enough and that s/he'd be left in a panic over the one contingency we forgot to cover. This time, though, we basically threw the baby at the sitter, yelled "Bye!" to Paul and were out in a puff of smoke.

Dinner at Quince was heavenly, and not just because of the tender short rib and deliciously fresh and light strawberry panna cotta. Just having an uninterrupted conversation with Steve was a luxury on its own. If I could change one thing it would be that we have nice weather because I had planned on us having a drink or two outside after dinner, but it was storming. No big deal.

We got home from dinner and I gave Steve his next Father's Day present: a bottle of LaPhroaig. I was on "first sleep" with the baby but said I was willing to stay up a bit late and have our drink. Then, at 9:30, the doorbell rang.

"This is Dana, and she's here to watch James while you and I sleep!" I said. Steve was super-surprised by this, and I think a little bit weirded out, which is understandable, because I guess if some woman you've never met just shows up at your house and is going to spend the night while taking care of your baby, yeah, maybe that is a bit strange. I was well used to the idea by now. So that was the only aspect of the "surprise" that maybe wasn't the best.

Again, see the Kid #2 thing though--I was just ready to get my sleep on, and to see this whole plan come to fruition. I showed Dana, who is a registered nurse, James' room and where all his stuff was and invited her, if she wanted to, to watch TV or doze on the futon in his room, although she said that she usually just read while the baby slept. I didn't care what she got up to, personally, as long as she didn't rob us or kidnap the baby and I was just tired enough to gamble that she wouldn't. (Also we had our home alarm on and our big dog downstairs, which I figured would dissuade her from trying to do so, not that I thought she really would, obviously.)

And that was it. Steve and I had our drink and got ready for bed. I even took 2 Benedryl to ensure I'd sleep well, so I fell asleep during the first four minutes of "30 Rock" that we put on. Ultimately I didn't sleep as great as I would have liked--I need to practice putting together more than five consecutive hours of rest, and having a few drinks is never good for my sleep. But still, I'm glad we did it. It was expensive, but definitely fit the bill of "what Steve needs and wants." (And it didn't hurt that I got to enjoy it, too.)

In the morning I checked in with Dana who was feeding James, who seemed content, and all was well. Paul woke up and was amazed and delighted to find a completely new person in the house, so he put on quite a performance for her, showing off and goofing around until he spilled his cup of milk on the floor and had a hysterical fit about it.

"Back to reality," Steve said. But then, after I bid Dana thank you and adieu, we had donuts for breakfast. I think it was a good Father's Day.