It was Spring of 2010 when my mom surprised us with Switchfoot tickets. I was going to Cincinnati for a conference, and Dave was tagging along. Dave’s mom kept a baby Graham.
It was our first and last trip away without kids. We sang and danced through the concert. Strolled hand in hand through the art museum. Meandered through the farmer’s market. Toured the Creation Museum. Drove the bridges. Talked architecture. Just Dave & Lyndse.
This weekend will be our very first trip away without our three kids. And our first time away together since that lovely time in Cincinnati. We are headed to the place I was raised. Where Dave proposed. Where we honeymooned. The land of Graham’s first vacation.
No washing diapers, pouring bottles, cutting food, giving seizure meds, unloading a wheelchair, folding tiny laundry, singing/signing Old MacDonald, wiping poop from a 5-year-old’s bottom.
Just the two of us. A man and his bride. Reading books. Making love. Blasting our favorite music. Touring a castle. Talking about anything and everything and nothing. Enjoying one another with no distractions.
Of course we’ll miss our kids. We’re parents. We will talk about our three blessings. Wonder how they’re doing. Call our moms and ask to hear little voices.
But ‘The Ballews’ were a couple before they were a quintet. Dave & Lyndse. Just Dave & Lyndse. And we are going to hoard this time together like a dragon with his gold. Selfishly wrapped up in one another’s arms and gaze. For ninety blissful hours.
After we pack.
Someone pinch me as I include my honeymoon lingerie and leave the Transformers toothbrush…