This weekend we got breakfast in bed. Twice. Which now brings the number of times in my life that I have ordered room service to a whopping four.
Last week was rough around here. It was good, as we looked at apartments, found a new apartment, signed a lease, picked out paint, booked movers, got boxes, and started sorting through stuff. It was good, because we started another Whole30, spent time with good friends, and enjoyed being back home after the holidays. It was good, as I did endless loads of laundry, lots of work for the upcoming semester, and actually found places to put away all the Christmas stuff.
But it was rough. All of the aforementioned productive busyness came with stress, late nights, tight schedules, tense conversations, budget crunches, big decisions, and frustration. James and I felt like we kept not connecting, kept getting things done, but having more tight-lipped conversations than is our norm. We kind of pride ourselves on being A Couple Who Communicates, and last week– we just weren’t.
This past weekend I needed to go to West Virginia to photograph a wedding, and James decided to come with me since I am a pregnant-fainter and long car trips with me driving by myself make us a tad nervous these days. I insisted he should stay home and get stuff done, but eventually we hit the road late on Friday night, rolling into West Virginia after 1am. In a final moment before crashing, we opted to hang the room service menu on the door, enjoying breakfast in bed before I rushed off to photograph the wedding.
And like that, the stress of the week started to wash off us. Starting the day in a pile of pillows with food on a tray is a very good thing. I went to meet the bride feeling pampered and relaxed, and James settled into the hotel for some work, followed by his version of a spa weekend: 40 chicken wings consumed over an entire afternoon/evening of football watching.
On Sunday, we decided to do it all again, sleeping in and then reclining on pillows to dine in bed like the rich and classy people that we emphatically are not. We were able to talk, to process the week, to relax and not feel like we should be boxing and folding and sorting. We left the hotel and headed back to DC feeling once again like a team — just the two of us. A team that will soon include a third, but will always only be as strong as the bond between its two original members. Sometimes a quick weekend away is all we need to remind us of that.