Honeymoon.

There are countless times when you're a new parent that you look back on your former life and realize that it is gone. Gone gone. Even the little things--showering when you're sweaty, going to the bathroom when you have to, staying up until two just because you're not done living for the day, getting all dressed up just for the hell of it--now require planning, plotting.

Jason and I got a rare privilege for new parents this week. I don't know if a lot of people who followed our path get to do the whole "honeymoon" thing. If you decide to forego the shotgun wedding then your post-nuptial life is instantly consumed with parenting. But thanks to the generosity of our families and our determination we went on an actual vacation. Jason and I have been together for a long time and we've never really done that. We've been to Memphis countless times, to Atlanta for a night, and to New Orleans for three days. None of those trips, though, felt like a vacation from our lives. It was just more of the same, in a different location.

This, though, was a completely other world. We had the freedom to sleep in, to lay on the beach all day, to wander around aimlessly, to drink beer on our rooftop deck overlooking the ocean to our hearts' content, to drive to another town without an obvious destination, to shower for as long as it took to get every piece of sand out of our toes. To be our old selves.

It took four hours into our drive to Florida for us to flip through the photos of Addy on my phone. My god we missed that girl. My eyes shot open at seven a.m. every morning, sometimes earlier, my entire being aching to call our parents to check on her. I'd sit on the beach, staring out at the waves, beer in hand, and try to persuade myself not to call again.

We chose Seaside, Florida because it looked like a peaceful, quiet town right on the ocean where we'd be able to enjoy ourselves, by ourselves. We didn't want a touristy-experience or an agenda, we just wanted to be.

And of course, without knowing it, we chose the baby-capital of the Gulf. My formerly un-maternal self had to stop short of freaking out the other vacationers by staring at their babies just a little too long. There were so many of them. Sitting on top of their dads' shoulders giggling at the waves crashing against their feet. Grabbing sand with their little fingers and flinging it at their mothers. Crying in their parents' arms because they didn't want to put on sunscreen. All we kept thinking was how excited we were to do this with our daughter.

No matter how hard we fought it our conversations always turned to her. Her squeels, her smiles, her new habit of chattering to herself before we come get her out of the crib. Our family.

That's not to say that we didn't have an amazing time, because it was truly one of the best trips of my life. Spending five straight days with someone you've seen every day for seven years is still a new experience. After all this time and swerving from our plans and Jason still makes me laugh to the point of tears at least every hour. Something about him still surprises me every day.

My mom kept telling me how important it is to have a honeymoon, and although I was excited about our trip I didn't really get it. We've been together so long that the romance-induced butterflies come more from cuddling up on the couch watching Lost than strolling along the beach holding hands. But she was right. I got to watch him from afar, when he was way-too deep into the ocean on his body-board, and tell the people next to me who were watching him that it was just his way, this husband of mine, to push the adrenaline limits a little too far. My husband. I got to introduce myself to people with my new name.

By Wednesday we missed Adelyn so much it consumed us. We had to force ourselves to stop dwelling, to stop calling our parents because she was just fine and was having a great time, too.

And on Thursday, we'd set our alarm for seven-thirty so we could leave Florida by nine. We wanted to be back to her before her bedtime. We'd stayed up late the night before, drinking and talking, looking over the beach for the last time, and Jason grumbled about how early we'd been waking up this whole vacation. My husband likes to sleep.

When the alarm went off that morning Jason wasn't beside me in the bed. I groggily found my way downstairs and he was dressed, showered. Our bags were packed and put in the car. The trash had been taken out.

"Let's go get her!" He said. And we did.

It turns out it wasn't so much the actual vacation that I needed as a mother, it was the vacation from our new life, just for a moment, to remind myself what I have. Being at the beach and staying up late and drinking and being free is all well and good--and it's necessary, I think, to do such things every now and then--but I have never been as excited to return to waking up at all hours of the night. Adelyn spit-up all over my new Seaside T-shirt this morning and I just don't care.