With both of us working full time and being busy with household chores and childcare, my husband and I haven’t had much time for one another lately.

I remember a time, about five or six years ago, that we could decide on the spur of the moment to drive to San Antonio, or Port Aransas, or wherever – and enjoy a romantic evening or weekend together.

This is no longer the case. First of all, if we go anywhere or do anything different on the weekend, then I don’t have time to get the mountain of laundry done. Secondly, we would either have to bring our children with us, which tends to be a lot of work, or we would have to leave them in the care of their grandparents, and then I would miss them. (Even though I would really, really enjoy the uninterrupted sleep).

Plus, we have no money left over at the end of the month for such diversions, so we have to be a little more creative about doing fun things together on a budget.

My husband made plans to bring our dogs in for grooming early on Saturday morning. He asked me if I would like him to take our four-year-old with him. I thought about it for a moment, and said, "Why not make it a fun family trip!"

So, we all woke up sunshiny and cheerful on Saturday morning, dressed and got into the car with the whining dogs in their little cages.

It was raining a little bit.

And then it began to rain some more.

When we dropped the dogs off, we were told it would be a three or four hours. I wanted to go home, but my husband thought it would be fun to drive into San Antonio and get something to eat and maybe do some shopping. He was sure the rain would stop soon.

So we drove into San Antonio in the pouring rain. It was a lovely drive – with the children in the back having yelling contests and my husband and I talking about our respective jobs. It’s always very romantic to talk about work while driving in the car with two small children.

We ate in a restaurant packed with other people’s small children who were making a lot of noise, which is okay with me because it drowns out the sounds of my own children making a lot of noise.

A dress shop was nearby and I thought I would go in to see if I could find something nice to wear to the little dance we were planning on attending that evening.

Of course, being 7-and-one-half months pregnant, nothing really fit properly. I looked all lumpy and weird in everything I tried on. I came out of the store empty handed and a little down.

We drove fifteen miles before my husband realized I hadn’t gotten a dress at the store.

"You didn’t get anything?" He said.

"No. Everything looked ridiculous." I said. "I’m so ugly."

"Oh no, you are beautiful." He said. "You are glowing like an orb."

I laughed. An orb. A big round glowing orb.

It’s okay though. When we got home, he watched the children so I could get a nap. We glowing orbs need our beauty rest.

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