Ed & I went out on an actual date (read: Jack free) the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I've been trying to find a reputable babysitter on Craigs List the last few months and we've finally found 2. And, while we did return home to this first babysitter watching a Lizzy McGuire movie (oh my), she seems like she'll keep Jack entertained and safe.
Anxious to tour this city we've been living in for three months (!!) now, Ed suggested we go to a trendy Mexican restaurant near Newbury Street (thanks Rachael Ray). For those of you who don't know Newbury street (and why would you?), it's consumer heaven. Well, heaven if you have quite a bit of spending cash. There's an Armani store, the Gap, quite a few independent outfits, plus a dizzy array of ultra hip boutiques. Because we didn't leave the house until around 7:45, most of the shops were closed - which is probably good since dinner and a babysitter is roughly the cost of a cashmere sweater.
Ed parked on Commonweath Ave near Back Bay, not sure how far the walk was to the restaurant. As we strolled along in the frigid Boston night air, I commented that if this was a first date, points would be lost at how far we were walking. When, after about 15 minutes, the snow flakes began to hit my nose, I thought that complaining might make me a bad date (I still complained). The walk was lovely, though, despite the cold. On our left trees hanging onto their last leaves graced the median; and on our right, gorgeous apartment buildings and old three-story town house homes took our thoughts away from our cold hands (note to self: always bring gloves with me until next Spring). I love the rot iron fences and window flower boxes. I adore the elaborate entry ways, with real plants, benches, framed art, and elegant area rugs. I kept imagining what the people were doing inside the rooms with the lights on, knowing they were feeling warm because of their historic homes and the contrasting cold oustide. Somehow, walking that sidewalk and soaking in the atmosphere warmed me up. Ed, too, I think. By the time we got to Casa Romero, the winter weather was more festive than miserable.
Good thing, too, they asked if we had reservations (which we didn't) and so we were put on a list and told to come back in 30 minutes. So, we walked Newbury Street, visited a Nike store (it was open) and updated Ed's sweatpant collection.
Casa Romera is located in the basement of a building; the entrance is off an alley (called "public alley" - which is good, I guess, because "scarry, dark alley" might be too intimidating). After checking our coats (first time for this South Tacoma native), we snuggled into a table next to a (locked) wine cabinet and listened to the specials. Authentically Mexican, the waiter delivered the specials in thick Spanish accent, of which I heard "sea bass" and "capers." I just wanted Mole sauce. Ed, too. He went more exotic, ordering chicken stuffed with cactus, cheese and mole. I chose the chicken enchiladas with mole, in part, because the entrees were so pricey. The enchiladas cost $14.00! They were good, but not that much better than the $7 mole enchildas at Guadalajara Hacienda in West Seattle. Apparently, Boston is limited in its Mexican dining experience, so they can jack up the prices. My $8 margarita complimented the meal perfectly. There's really nothing like a leisure dinner with drinks and conversation with your spouse when you haven't been "out" in nearly four months.
It's Tuesday now and we're back in the swing of things- returning to a relatively carb-free lifestyle after our carbolicous weekend, balancing work, school, Jack, and details like paying parking tickets (damn meters). The babysitter is coming back this weekend - I can't wait. It's funny how just getting out to play becomes so crucial and yet so low on the priority list. It's nearly December, and well, we've "made it" so to speak. Back in August, I wasn't sure what things would be like in Boston, but I knew that whatever they were, we'd have adjusted into some sort of routine. That we have :)